u/Nei-Chan-

You're at work. Or maybe just put and about, but your mind wanders off to somewhere else. To your place, where your doll is waiting.

You found this trans girl struggling with self image, with her style being "whatever hides what's under the clothes", and you decided to change that.

You dated me, making me gain confidence in myself, letting me see the potential in my body. And then, you started molding me.

At first, you just helped me pick out clothes for me to learn fashion and style. Slowly but surely, you'd make the clothes more skimpy, more risqué, more to your taste.

Little by little, you turned my newfound confidence into something else. Into an eagerness to show off, especially to you. A wish to be seen as much as possible by the woman who made me understand what a beautiful doll I truly am.

And now, you know I'd let you do anything. Dress me up in anything, no matter how revealing, no matter how humiliating, because ultimately it means you want to see me. And you can touch me however you want, because I'm your doll to play with.

(First try at writing erotica, because my brain prefers thinking about being a doll rather than doing the work I'm supposed to do)

​

Had a meeting with my endocrinologist yesterday after a year on estrogen (Yay!) on a day of work. And she took my tension (that's how we call it in France, I believe it's the equivalent to blood pressure). And I registered at a 16. The norm is 12, 14 is considered high, and I had 16.

I'm not made for work. I'm not made to be stressed about making a stupid printer work...

I'm made to be a dumb doll for a hot woman to dress up and use and make dumb and dumber and dumber with sex while she praises and/or degrades me for losing my mind, for having to count on my fingers to do 2+2, for giggling like a bimbo while she makes me do the most humiliating things....

Anyway, that was my rant, I'm horny and I'm stressed out \^\^'

Me, yesterday, at work : alright, time to focus on those SQL reports !

My brain : picture this, you're a maid, and you're wearing a maid dress that your mistress tied for you, making it just a little too tight so you can't breathe as well as you'd want to. You're in no trouble, but it's a constant reminder of what you're wearing, including the hem being just a bit too high for comfort and your cleavage being a bit too visible.

Then she comes back home and sees all the good job you've done, and rewards you by fondling you before going on with her evening, not giving you any kind of release, just enjoying your body...

(and then, a few moments later, brain went back to that, but to the evening, where I got even more "rewarded" for doing everything well... And I quickly bit my finger to not make a noise due to how sudden and impactful the picture was)

I can't do work in these conditions dammit, why do I have to be so gay (jk, love being a yearning lesbian)