Our Journey
By Alice de Forte
More from Alice de Forte
At the turn of the millennium, internet porn was less centrally-categorised; it relied heavily on 'peer-to-peer' sharing of content, meaning you were downloading files straight from one or more people's personal, home computers. A lot of what you unearthed was either a deceptively misleading – or simply wrong - file name. Thankfully, I had a decent computer with a direct ethernet connection ran from downstairs in the study. I spent many nights begging the download bars to hasten their progress so that the next mystery box of videos could serve to satisfy the insatiable hunger inside me that was feeding on depraved novelty. My slurry of teenage hormones and a burgeoning repertoire of niche tastes (thanks to the accidental acquisition of so many exotic and extreme porn videos) broadened out over the coming years until the boundaries started to meet. The lines where greed becomes hedonism blurred; so too did the boundaries separating boy from girl, reality from fantasy, right from wrong.
I could feel myself gradually slipping away from the 'real' world – the indoctrinated squabble of life was offering less and less to my mind, which, thanks to my discovery of shemales and monster cock compilations, was becoming filled with dicks and asses and dicks and assess and repeat. Lurking silently with a defiant strength in the background of any of my 'totally honest relationships' was the tickle of cocks in the back of my mind. I spent every precious, waking moment away from them developing tastes they could never acquire, being so sexually weak and repressed. It's not like I'm socially anxious or unattractive - both quite the opposite; I had no trouble landing the hot girls; I played in a popular indie band and gigs were ripe orchards of thirsty, drunk bitches. They soon found out I'd only ever show an interest in their ass. I'd tolerate going down on a girl but it was more of a biology lesson. Getting to sniff and lick their sweaty butts was directly what I wanted from them, and some gave it. Those who didn't got swiftly ejected from my reality.
Yet, cutting to now; having been engulfed almost entirely by the beautiful viruses of self-pleasure, bimbofication brainwashing and gooning feminization, I am almost ready to take the next step towards the mecca we have all dreamt of since seeing the first monster-cock shemale in our teens: to be the mindless bimbo slut getting pounded by a rigid, horse-sized cock; to be the unthinking sissy getting degraded by random men; to be the stupid fuckdoll being slapped about in a cheap hotel on the promise of cock in your mouth and coke up your nose.
I want to start out classy, just like the ladyboys on screen. All polished and beautifully dressed with curvy physiques. I'll need huge, pumped up lips – I want my collagen-infused mouth to look like a gaping anal prolapse. I want any man who sees my distorted anus-face to know exactly what my mouth is for; abuse. When my unprincipled surgeon has finished taking the money and filled my sissy lip-sacks to the size of two bananas, I'll tip him generously by letting him film himself headfucking my sore, swollen face. Once my enormous lips are pumped up to a painful size and all my makeup is looking glossy and wet, the next step is to invite a series of young black men to come and test my new suction pillows out by face-fucking me until I choke. As a good bimbo, it's important to maintain eye-contact and not to gag throughout any amount of violent deepthroat. Rather, it is a sissy's utmost reward in this instance, that she shall be rewarded with a cumshot impregnated deep into her throat. I keep my mouth locked open while the jungle dicks mercilessly pound their superior genes down into my barbie-doll tummy. Some of them fuck my throat so aggressively – and for so long – that I pass in and out of consciousness through total lack of oxygen. I worship the black cock. When the young Bulls are done violating my face-cunt and have made their escape to the next whore, I scrabble about on the floor like a common animal, slurping up any of the cum, piss or sweat that I missed during the heat of the moment. Eventually, I tire and curl up like a tame pet in the corner and hope there is more cock to devour when I wake up.
More from Alice de Forte
|
