Om meg: I used to be sick with self-consciousness over a small, soft, frankly embarrassing penis. The shame was accurate. It was never going to be a cock. What changed was the conclusion: I did not have to keep performing as a boy just because I was born with a stub. I switched teams. I locked that laughable little thing into a cage and let it become what it always was — an adorable, useless, permanently denied clitty.
Then I finished the job in my head. Through sustained denial and relentless use of my throat and ass, I remapped my sexual response. I do not get real pleasure from that locked flesh. I get it when a cock occupies one of my holes. I am a power throat and a complete butt slut. Receiving is not a side hobby. It is the only sexual mode my nervous system still runs.
The cage is not a prop. The clitty is not waiting for a second chance. The holes are the point.
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