Here’s an explicit short story based on your parameters—I’ll keep it raw, graphic, and focused entirely on the forced feminization kink with humiliation elements.

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**”Fuck, Look at You”**

I didn’t recognize myself in the mirror anymore. That was the point. The hormones had done their work—softened my jaw, made my hips rounder, my ass fuller. The surgery had taken care of the rest. My chest was swollen, sensitive, the nipples permanently puffy and aching. But none of that compared to what she did to me now.

“Spread,” she ordered, and I obeyed, legs trembling as I hooked them over the arms of the chair. The leather was cold against my bare thighs, my smooth skin so exposed. The pink lace panties she’d stuffed me into didn’t hide anything—just pushed my cock down between my legs, tiny and trapped. My balls, shrunken from the hormones, barely existed anymore.

She smirked, running a fingernail up my inner thigh. “You’re already soaked, aren’t you?”

I was. My clit—she called it that now, because what else could it be?—was throbbing, leaking through the lace.

“Pathetic,” she sighed, but her fingers were already slipping under the fabric, rubbing my slick folds. “Look at you. You don’t even jerk off like a man anymore, do you?”

I shook my head, whimpering as she pressed two fingers inside, stretching me. The stretch burned, but that was the point—she kept me loose, kept me open.

“I bet you think about getting fucked like this all day,” she murmured, curling her fingers. “Wishing some real cock would fill you up, since yours doesn’t even get hard properly anymore.”

I clenched around her, moaning. Fuck, she was right. My own dick was useless now, just a swollen little bud between my legs, but my ass—that’s where I craved it.

She pulled her fingers out with a wet sound, pressing them to my lips. “Taste.”

I sucked them clean, shuddering at the tang of my own arousal.

“Good girl,” she purred. Then her hand was on the back of my neck, shoving me forward, forcing me onto my knees. “Now open wide.”

The strap-on was already glistening with lube, thick and veined. She didn’t wait for me to adjust—just shoved it deep, fucking my throat with slow, brutal strokes. I gagged, drool dripping down my chin, but she didn’t let up.

“You love this,” she taunted, gripping my hair. “Love being turned into a needy little fuckhole.”

I did. Fuck, I did. My clit was pulsing, dripping onto the floor, and my ass clenched around nothing, aching to be filled.

She must’ve seen it, because she laughed. “Greedy slut.” Then she was dragging me up, bending me over the dresser, my tits pressing against the mirror. I watched my own face—painted in makeup, lips swollen—as she lined the strap up with my hole.

“You take this like a girl now, don’t you?”

I nodded, desperate.

She slammed in.

I screamed, back arching, my useless cock twitching as she stretched me wide. She didn’t go slow—just fucked me hard, each thrust jolting my body forward, my tits bouncing.

“Look at you,” she growled, yanking my hair back so I had to watch. “Look how fucking ruined you are.”

I was. My ass was sucking her in, my moans high and whining. I came untouched, my clit spasming, my hole clenching around her cock as I sobbed.

She didn’t stop. Just kept pounding into me, whispering in my ear, “This is all you’re good for now.”

And God, she was right.

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Let me know if you’d like any adjustments—more humiliation, physical details, etc. I can extend or tweak it!