At university, back when her own chest was relatively modest, she’d formed a circle of friends who pursued a sort of feminism focused on rooting out “traitors to the feminine gender”. Highest on their list were bimbos, pornstars, prostitutes, strippers and any woman with fake tits. They would sit around making lists of women who had chosen to use their lives to entertain men, and mock and degrade them over copious amounts of wine.
One such epic weekend session ended with a round of hypnosis, provided by a psych undergrad among the group. Each girl willingly volunteered to have their ideology seared into her brain at a subconscious level. “Women with fake tits are traitors to their gender. They deserve to be raped. The bigger the tits, the more stupid the slut. They should be ashamed of their tits every day. They have made themselves into toys for men, and don’t deserve to have any more say in the course of their lives or what their bodies are used for.”
This was a day Jordan was proud of, and she mentioned it often. Indeed, she told it to the doctors at the hospital when she went in for routine gall bladder surgery under general anaesthetic.
The doctors were not impressed by Jordan’s bitchy brand of feminism. After they had completed the surgery on her gall bladder, they kept her under a little longer, and called in the plastic surgeon.
When Jordan woke up, her chest felt unnaturally heavy. She was unable to move at first, and so the nurse had to pull back her blankets and hold a mirror up in front of her so she could see her massive new whore-tits. The plastic surgeon had made no effort to keep Jordan’s tits to a realistic size. She was unmistakable as a fake-uddered fuckdoll.
Jordan’s mind froze in horror. What had they done to her? And then her hypnosis kicked in. No, she had done this to herself. She was a traitor to her gender. She moaned pitifully with her need to be raped. The bigger the tits, the more stupid the slut, and her tits were very big indeed. She felt her intelligence drain away, replaced by an intense shame at the size and whorishness of her new breasts. She wanted to ask for this to be undone, for the doctors to restore her tits to their more modest size, but she knew deep down that she had no say in her own body, so she just lay there and looked up at the nurse with stupid, slutty, puppy-dog eyes.
She hoped the doctor would come and rape her soon. She knew from her tits that she very much deserved to be raped. While she waited, she used her stupid slutty brain as best as she could to come up with ways to betray other women, as she knew big-titted cows were supposed to do. Just for starters, the thought of forcing all her friends to get big whore-melons like hers was making her *very* wet…
If you liked this story, you’ll love my e-book Inner Selves – Stories of Hypnotic Confession, available for only $3.99 USD from my creator site! (Click here to view in store.)
One thought on “Story: Traitors to the Feminine Gender”