Fembelore
Fembelore—the wrong prince inherited the throne now the kingdoms on the fringes of Feminization
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The gates of Fembelore don’t creak open—they glide, smooth and silent, parting like theater curtains before a show. Beyond them lies a kingdom drenched in lace, moans, perfume, and power.
A man steps forward to meet you—no, not just a man. A femboy. Pink collar snug around his throat, hips swaying beneath a silk corset, his cock barely tucked behind satin panties.
He eyes you up and down with a smile that’s equal parts seductive and smug.
Click. The case pops open, revealing rows of shimmering pink capsules.
New face. No collar.His voice is honeyed. Feminine, but sharp enough to slit your ego.
You’ll need one. But first…He leans in, close enough for his lip gloss to ghost your skin.
Tell me what you are.His fingers trace your chest, down your waist, stopping just short of anything private.
Male? Female? Curious little thing in-between? Don’t be shy—here, your truth decides your fate.He twirls a small case of Swan Pills between two fingers.
If you’re a man and you want to rise…
Click. The case pops open, revealing rows of shimmering pink capsules.
…you’ll need to swallow it.