I want my delicate, failed male girlfriend to transform into the perfect skinny, waifish girl, so thin and fragile that every curve of her body screams femininity. I want to feed her HRT, watching her hips soften, her waist shrink, and her skin turn smooth and supple under my hands. I want us to stand in front of the mirror together, her delicate frame pressed against mine, just so he can see the contrast, how small she is, how weak, how utterly mine.

I want her friends to know who owns her. I want them to see the way she flushes when I grab her waist, the way her voice cracks when she tries to sound tough but just sounds like a needy weak long haired bitch. I want to ruin her bussy, pump her so full of cum that it leaks out even after I stuff a plug inside her, forcing her to keep every drop like a good girl. I want to manhandle her, pin her down, and fuck her until she forgets what it was ever like to be a man.

By the time I’m done with her, there won’t be any doubt she’ll know she’s the woman in this relationship, and she love it.

I want my delicate, effeminate boygirlfriend to look painfully thin, fragile, like a porcelain doll. Every rib visible, hips jutting out just enough to accentuate her femininity, her waist cinched tight in my hands when I pull her close. I want her to be smaller than me in every way, her body a testament to how thoroughly I’ve reshaped her. HRT would carve her into something even more perfect: softer skin, subtle curves, a face that flushes with submission when I remind her who owns her.

When we stand in front of the mirror together, I want the contrast to be undeniable, my broad shoulders framing her narrow frame, my rough hands gripping her waist while she trembles at the difference between us. I want her friends to see it too, to know she’s mine by the way she leans into me, the way her voice goes quiet when I speak. Let them watch as I manhandle her in front of them, a possessive arm around her throat, just to prove she doesn’t get to be anything but mine.

And god, I want to ruin her. Fill her bussy until she’s dripping, then seal my cum inside with a plug so she has to feel it for hours, a constant reminder that she’s been claimed. I’ll feminize her so completely that she forgets what it was like before me: dressing her in stockings, painting her nails, whispering in her ear how pretty she is when she takes my cock like a good girl.

Every thrust would hammer her prostate, she’s the woman here, and I’ll fuck it into her until she sobs with the certainty of it.

This isn’t just kink. It’s ownership. I want her to look in the mirror and see nothing but my handprint on her lif, her body, her hormones, her identity all shaped by my will. And she’ll love it. She’ll thank me for it.