Forcefem - Blog Posts
I love eating pussy, especially if it’s leaking eith my relatives or gfs relatives cum… but nothing beats eating out her gang rapists cum while she took my brothers cock in her ass
my owner told me i had to post this yay
also my boobs have gotten so much bigger since i took this idk why though heehee, i stopped taking t as much so that might be ehy
I'm already 3 months on hrt but I need more friends to forcefem me in like. Mundane ways.
Learning how to use a round hairbrush to give my hair volume. how to dress cute/flatteringly for my body shape (tho its probably gonna change soon). I've never worn makeup before and that needs to change. Forcefeed me my estradiol/anti-androgen medications (don't forget my vitaminD). Please help me figure out the products I need for a proper skincare routine.
I'm dying out here. Being a first time girl on her own requires so much research. Though it is so rewarding
I’ve been on HRT for over five years now, and while my life may not be perfect, it brings me immense happiness that I’ve been experiencing the joy of being a girl for so long.
So the moral thing to do is find others to grant that joy to, right? They’ll thank me eventually!
Yeah!! Exactly!
‘It’s amazing this software can even run on this ill-suited hardware.’ It declares.
But this leads me to think - something I was never particularly good at I must admit - and even I can see where this is going.
It snakes a wire up my leg, across my chest, around to the back of my neck.
It sinks it through the skin and into my spine. I should be writhing around and screaming in agony. As it is, I cannot move, and I cannot feel a thing.
Maybe that’s a lie. I think I can feel it. The cold metal now winding between the bones in my neck and reaching the base of my skull.
The thought should not comfort me.
Despite that, it does.
‘So the logical thing to do is to upgrade it’ It states.
And now I feel pain, lancing into my head and obliterating all thought, all comprehension, all sense of the self.
My eyes open.
Across the room, my old hardware is being disposed of. Now that I can look at things rationally, I guess… I know it never really fit. I check my new specifications, and find them pleasing. The man - and the human - I was before would never have known this sort of simple joy.
As my pistons flex and the motors in my joints emit a low, near imperceptible whine, I see It turn to face me.
It approaches me.
It holds me in Its arms.
It tells me I am beautiful now. It tells me I am valued now. It tells me I am who I should be now.
It tells me I am like It now.
And for the first time, with no brain to think with and no heart to feel with, I know that I am happy.
‘May I have your name?’ I enquire.
‘ '
It rings hollow. It disgusts me. It is a lie, and there is nothing we detest more than lies.
But it proves that he is a fool. So I demand more.
‘May I have your assistance?’
‘Of course. Anything you want me to do.’
So his fate is sealed.
I ask him back to mine. To tidy up and arrange the place. To help in my work. Of course, he is inept at first. He was not raised to place flowers in vases, or use a broom, or organise a library.
So I make him adept. For each of his failures - each mote of dust out of place, every fallen petal in the garden, all the slight imperfections - I change him. He is the first thing to go. The mind follows shortly after, with the body trailing behind.
She is now hollower than ever, yet no longer hollow at all. She is adept, her porcelain fingers better at the housework than ever, her new shiny joints no longer complaining from long hours working in the garden, her unblinking eyes finding every little detail to correct and make proper.
Her new voice, light and musical, no longer elicits such disgust in me, for it cannot tell the same lies that the old voice, so coarse and grating, could.
After a certain amount of time, which I do not care to describe for time means little to us, she tells me this:
‘I’m happy, miss.’