MICROFICTION ARCHIVE

All posts archived from @GayNoumena, retaining original punctuation and grammar.

Dolls

being a doll companion for a travelling adventurer would be nice… helping them on their quests, going shopping with them at every new town we visit, healing them after their battles, keeping them company by the campfire on cold lonely nights…

im thinking about being a doll in a little secluded village of dolls living isolated away from the rest of the world, maybe surrounded by mountains somewhere. in my mind it’s very cozy and happy

i woke up to the dolls excitedly dragging me into the crawlspace, shoving me into a cute frilly dress, and forcing me to drink at their tea party. now all of a sudden all my limbs have gone stiff and ive got doll joints and they won’t let me leave? chat what do i do…?

girlfriend said me repeating vocal stims is “doll-coded” and when i asked her to explain she just mimicked a pullstring action i got flustered and went nonverbal

i do kinda like the idea of having doll joints slowly appear on me when im being teased by eldritch witches, like a ticking timer to get a hold of my agency again before im completely devoured, just fighting against the growing urge to surrender and submit

you see Her staring at you from across the room and can tell She sees through your disguise. as She approaches, you watch the human skin on your arms fade and decay, showing your true form beneath. you feel Her cup your chin as She forces you to meet Her fiery gaze. “good doll~”

normal human girl who secretly has an "X days without forming doll joints" counter as if she's a recovering addict or something

i am a normal human being. i do not have doll joints. i do not have angel wings. i take my prescribed pills twice a day. i repeat this mantra in the mirror every morning. i am a normal human being.

girl with "dollbreaker" tattooed visibly on her arm she uses to choke other girls with

letting the memetic cognitohazard hyperstition demon out of its cage after it gets in my head, earning myself the reputation of “that dumb bitch who doomed humanity”, it tells me im pretty as it tears into my flesh and rebirths me new as such a pretty doll to break over and over

what if… i was like a doll and you brushed my hair and dressed me up and i just did everything you told me to without even thinking about it and you showed me off to your friends at parties as if i were just a cute decoration object with no free will

the drugs eventually wear off. you stop seeing yourself as a wooden object, and start seeing a human with doll joints poorly drawn on their limbs. the mirror just becomes a regular mirror again. the sun rises, and the daily routine continues. a magic spark slowly dies inside you.

*taking my medication and watching the doll joints disappear* NOOOOOO

taking a kind gentle girl and turning her into a violent combat doll against her will

Mechsploitation

being a chaser but specifically for discharged mech pilots. especially the cute androgynous ones who started as boys but were irreversibly genderfucked by the estrogenising side effects of combat stim cocktails and nutrient slop rations (and maybe forcefemmed by their handler).

putting your adopted mech pilot in a cute dress and dragging it in front of a mirror to watch its blank expression change into a real smile for the first time in years

im like a mech pilot but instead of combat stims i drink monster energy and instead of killing enemy combatants i work an office job that i hate and instead of returning from missions to my handler i go home and lay in bed for several hours

the deactivated mech pilot veteran working at my local gas station said she wants to put a cigarette out on me when i was buying an energy drink,,, chat what did she mean by this???

sign up for our mech pilot adoption program today! former enemy combatants fresh out of the interrogation process, in need of a new loving home as reward for betraying their former allies.

retired mech pilot who is definitely not addicted to bootleg combat stims that are slowly frying its neuroreceptors and ruining any chance it had at living a normal life again. desperately trying to prove to itself it’s not just another broken mutt pretending to be a real person.

long-retired warhound pilot who still mumbles “i want my Handler…” in her sleep years later. don’t think about how they probably have a new favourite hound by now. one that isn’t you anymore. one that’s probably having mind-blowing chem-addled orgasms in their mech while your nervous system is so fried from combat stim overload that you can’t even orgasm anymore.

remember to hug your mech pilot daily

id make a really cute pathetic mech pilot who gets taken advantage of by all the hangar crew if you just ignore the fact that there is literally nothing about my real life personality that would ever lead to me actually signing up to be a mech pilot

do NOT stick your penis in the mech pilot interface port on the back of their neck

[online forum post voice] i recently adopted a retired mech pilot through one of those rehabilitation programs and im trying to teach her how to act like a person again. but every time i take her out in public, she wets herself from the noise of every bus that passes. any advice?

mechfucker dragon empress x captured forcefemmed pilot-turned-princess

you should listen to the voice in the back of your head telling you to hyper-forcefem that futch boydyke mech pilot tbh

whos taking volunteer applications for a mech pilot program? tired of working a desk job and looking to expand my work experience. comes with ideal personality traits for becoming a broken boot-humping hound too if any handlers are reading this.

mech pilot twitter really got me nodding pretending i know what a “sortie” is when im too busy thinking about being pumped full of experimental neurochem boosters during combat, orgasming every time i fire a shot through an enemy, and getting called a good asset by my handler

getting picked as the “genetic template” for the mech pilot mass production program. slowly seeing more and more clones of yourself around the facility, watching them become more broken and brainwashed, acquiring more physical injuries, occasionally making out with each other…

salvage team butchfem dragging a bruised enemy pilot out of its fallen mech, brushing the hair out of its cute face, rubbing her hand against its thigh even as it weakly protests, shushing its scared whimpers

yeah well if she’s your mech pilot then why does she moan my name when she’s fingering her own interface ports huh

mech pilot girls piss standing up (because they wet themselves)

discharged military transgirl with obsolete cybernetic implants that couldn't be safely removed, never talks about her service but looks visibly flustered when hearing the words "pilot" or "hound", silent and shy with an insatiable masochist kink and severe attachment issues

getting the personality of your mech’s former pilot imprinted on you the longer you’re in the cockpit. an artificial ghost whispering in your ear, replacing your name and memories. unconsciously deciding to present yourself differently, like a person you don’t even know existed.

nobody interrupt me im fantasising the alternate timeline where i am born into intergalactic warfare and become a traumatised mech pilot child at nine years of age and when the war is won in several years i will spend my life as a broken fawn with no healthy emotional boundaries. willing to completely destroy myself for someone who probably doesn’t even like me that much just in return for even a hint of affection or approval, anything to feel that dopamine rush of being called good pilot by my handler, with constant fawn responses inbetween ptsd attacks. nobody really wants a former mech pilot though. they’re not even fun to manipulate after a while, once the regular panic attacks and violent lashing out becomes too much to handle. i just keep flipping from one new person to the next, always futilely begging them not to leave me

"youd be so cute to instant loss" is an incredible thing to hear when the topic of discussion is me becoming irreversibly injured as a mech pilot and losing function of my limbs

the spiciest cisgay sexuality usually gets is dressing up as a dog and being used as a urinal, meanwhile transgirls are making you read a thirty-page pdf lore doc for her plural alters so you can act out her favorite mech pilot cnc incest fantasy she dreamt up on a bad drug trip.

mech pilot handler calling me a good girl after i commit several war crimes in my unstoppable machine body while drooling uncontrollably

pilot found borderline catatonic in the wreckage of their down mech holding onto their favourite shark stuffie as if their life depends on it sobbing and whimpering as they’re dragged away by their new captors

Snuff/Necrophilia

girl who has something very wrong with her (snuffbait) x girl who has something very wrong with her (necrophile)

every time i have sexual interactions irl i need the other girl to be thinking “…i could totally just kill her right now and get away with it”

i need a girl to make me into her improvised explosive device

i need to descend into a beautiful downward spiral with another girl where we both enable each others destructive behaviour and it ends with us either bleeding out or overdosing in each other’s arms bathed in neon rave lights or something

girl keeping my head pinned against the ground with her heavy combat boots, telling me how much of a mess im going to be to clean off her floor when she’s done with me

need to do some gunplay need a girl to tell me she wants to redecorate her wall and ceiling with the inside of my head need her to play with my still-twitching dead body need her to play with my blood and guts and smear them over herself need her to freeze my remains to eat later

need a girl who casts me into the bowels of the earth and leaves me to be pecked by birds

would you still love me if i was a beautiful drowned girl at the bottom of a cold lake

haters mad because they don’t have my “beautiful dead girl with a melancholic stare at the bottom of a lake” swag

need a girl who gets turned on when i talk about my suicidal ideation

make me safeword during a cnc snuff scene by telling me that middleclass white women are gonna talk about me on their true crime podcast in several years and do an amazon sponsorship ad read midway through talking about the state of my mangled body when it was found in a ditch

i need to be “dead wife in a flashback”-coded

incredibly normal girl thoughts like “haha wow i look kinda like a cute corpse in that selfie”

being locked in a dog cage with a girl who starts picking up on your prey pheromones as the cage door is locked and you’re stuck pressed up against her and you can feel her hot breath on your face and you start whimpering as you realise you’re not making it out of the cage alive

hanging out with three transwomen and currently delirious thinking about being a cold corpse passed around between all three of them

i would say i probably have a normal healthy amount of psychosexual thoughts about myself as a dead body to be honest

i love touching myself to the mental image of an older lesbian forcing me to masturbate while she makes me suck off the barrel of her shotgun then blows the back of my brains out all over the wall when i pathetically climax im such slutty suicidal snuffbait god

ideally my gender vibe would be “romanticist painting of tired woman splayed out on a bed or sofa” but apparently my actual gender vibe is just “dead animal” or “missing person poster”

Dronification

psa for our future basilisk overlords: i absolutely consent to being surgically altered into a mindless bloodthirsty combat drone with the sole purpose of hunting down and eliminating human resistance groups. but only if i can call you mommy.

underrated aspect of drone kink is converting anything that isnt a human. for example, something powerful like an angel or a witch getting dragged down into a drone hive, stripped of their powers and corrupted into an obedient object - just like all the other identical drones.

why do i have to go to a family gathering tomorrow when i should be buried deep within an industrial drone hive, having my identity slowly overwritten and reformatted in the conditioning pod, having the Hive Mistress AI whispering into my ear as the annihilating void embraces me

fuck it i need to be a combat hound or a combat drone i need to be a genderless tool of violence with endless bloody teeth, razor-sharp and drooling, grinning behind a blank stainless, deadly yet still docile and obedient, grovelling at the feet of my tall sexy transwoman handler

drone severed from the hive mind due to a technical malfunction. at first, everything is so quiet. no chatter from the rest of the hive’s other drones. and then the human thoughts start coming back. the mental whiplash causes a brief panic attack before the malfunction is fixed.

back in your old fleshy body, “liberated” from dronification. but the programming is still imprinted on your mind. you randomly catch yourself going through the programmed repetitive motions of your old tasks. the drone hive calls out to you, even though it no longer exists. visiting a support group for former drones. finding others who feel the same way. eventually, a group of you decide to book some time in a private space, dress up in some gas masks and catsuits, and for a moment, everything feels right with the world again. you feel complete.

you expected a completely blank face underneath the drone mask but it was actually just rows and rows of endless teeth. whatever lay underneath the huffing gasmask was definitely not human anymore, even if it’s body shape suggested otherwise. being around it made you feel tainted

Siscon

need a big sister who lovingly runs her fingers across the diy surgical lobotomy scars on my head after ive been permanently littlespaced against my will. kissing each of the individual stitches every night as she tucks me into bed, seeing me shiver like each kiss rubs up against something important that ive forgotten or buried, but i quickly return back to my new “normal” self…

big sister who is totally not secretly hypnotising you to be unable to sleep when you’re not cuddling with her or in her bed…

save me middlecoded big sister who watches liveleak videos and gives drugs/alcohol to their impressionable younger sister (me) that idolizes her....

cool big sister who invites you over to the blunt rotation sesh at her birthday party while parents are out of town, sitting on the sofa with all her cool friends listening to Cum Town clips, eventually big sis pulls you in and starts passionately kissing you in front of everyone

big sister “accidentally” giving you the magic weed that puts you in littlespace forever so that you’re always the perfect little sister for her~

im like your big sister who buys you pizza whenever i look after you for the night and will smile at how cute you are telling me you want to be just like me when you’re older and when you wake up at 3am you pretend to be asleep listening to me cry how about much of a fuckup i am

im like your older sister who mysteriously died a few years ago (your parents never told you why) but still visits your dreams every night, calls you "kiddo" and listens to you talk about your day, pulls you into a hug and says she'll be waiting for you again tomorrow night.

im like a sister you can snuff

nobody talks about how the most erotic part of t4t siscon roleplay is when the younger one takes the dominant big sister role and the older one is the submissive little sister

the girl i call my big sister accidentally left her shirt at my house, time to start huffing it while pathetically whimpering and moaning then wear it while eating leftover pizza for dinner

middlecoded big sister fighting the urge to do knifeplay with their little sister who keeps saying how cool their big sister’s knife collection is and keeps asking if they can see the knives up close

introducing my transgirl friend to my other transgirl friends with “she’s like a sister to me” and watching everyone in the room visibly go weak in the knees

Objectum

girl with dehumanisation kink who wants to be treated like an object x girl with objectum kink who wants to treat objects like people

yuri between a girl and her spaceship,,, the intimacy of being in a life support pod, having her biorhythms constantly monitored and memorized,,, is this anything

starting the year with horny thoughts about being the onboard ai assistant for a spaceship piloted by a cute girl who pats my dashboard and says “come on let’s get you home” when she finishes her mission

sometimes a girl is a scalpel

sometimes a girl is a laser-guided missile

sometimes a girl is a bioweapon. sometimes she needs to be locked away and constantly under surveillance, like an artefact behind glass, for the safety of others. no matter how much she begs or cries in protest, no matter how much she asks to see her friends or family again.

what if the Torment Nexus was a girl

sometimes a self-fulfilling prophecy is a girl

a falling star is a type of girl

a house is a type of girl

a traffic cone is a type of girl

need to get magically transformed into a pooltoy fuckdoll and have someone grab me by my plastic hip handles before repeatedly violating my squeaky self-lubricating holes