Magenta's Perfect Day (how the patriarchy was destroyed)

Magenta's perfect day

Magenta Starlight Granger sighed. The patriarchy, she thought, as she sat in the sterile doctor's office waiting room. I'm going to be misgendered, she thought. She sighed again. The door creaked. Magenta heard footsteps. A friendly blonde sorority girl-esque nurse appeared in the doorway. Magenta was a tad smitten, but just a tad. She could feel herself being misgendered just seconds ahead.

"Michael?" the nurse said. Magenta tensed. Her inner horse whinnied. (Magenta's horse kin type is a beautiful brown stallion with a white diamond nose and long flowing white hair extending from her knees down to her hooves.

Magenta stood up, almost defeated. She felt her tail twitch. In her mind, her thoughts raced, like her horse-kin type did at the racetrack, where her domestic partner Brittney was her jockey.

Magenta thought "MY NAME IS ACTUALLY MAGENTA THANK YOU VERY MUCH. I AM ACTUALLY A WOMAN AND HORSE KIN. ALTHOUGH MY MEDICAL RECORDS ARE NOT UP TO DATE ENOUGH TO REFLECT THESE CHANGES." However, she was too shy and sweet and pretty to say anything. She sulked behind the blonde nurse. She checked out her ass. It was round like a nice apple, and she wanted to take a bite out of it.

As the nurse led Magenta to the patriarchal examination room, Magenta felt her horse-kin overflowing. She began to gallop at a steady pace. She actually liked going to the doctor because her doctor was a hottie with a bottie.

The nurse turned around and gave her a side eye glance, but kept going. Magenta entered room 8. It reminded her of a time when she was 8 years old. When she first kissed a horse. She was Michael back then. Those were dark times.

The next thing Magenta remembered, Magenta was on the floor. Her hot doctor Rosensteinberg (who was a man in his late 50's with a plump body that she couldn't get enough of. But he was jewish and oppressed so it was okay).

"Are you okay?" Dr. Rosensteinberg asked.

Magenta whinnied, "yes I think so. I was just triggered there for a moment."

Dr. Rosensteinberg assisted Magenta onto the examination table. "Are you ready for your physical?" he asked, unbuttoning her pants.

Magenta wanted to say no, but Rosensteinberg had already begun the poking and the prodding. She was offended, but felt pure ecstasy at the same time. She didn't really have breasts.

"Let me know if you feel any pain," Dr. Rosensteinberg said kindly. She moaned. She could not help it. "Was that uncomfortable?" he asked.

"No no," she said, neighing internally. Dr. Rosensteinberg then moved onto what would be a lifechanging event in Magenta's life. He then grabbed Magenta's girl-scrotum.

"Cough," he commanded.

She ejaculated, blushing hard. But not as hard as her girl-penis.

Magenta was embarrassed, but also felt very dominant. A strong wyman. Just because she had a penis didn't make her less than a woman. In fact, it made her more of a woman. (If you don't believe me, read the wikiped on hyeanas.)

Dr. Rosensteinberg blushed. "Happens all the time," he said. Magenta whinnied aloud this time. Dr. Rosensteinberg stepped out of the room, presumably to clean off the semen that had seeped into his pants from Magenta's strong, powerful thrust.

Just then, she heard a commotion outside. She looked out of the window of examination room 8.

"BLACK TRANS DISABLED LIVES MATTER!1" a voice cried out in the wilderness.

The call

Magenta knew what she had to do. Still sprouting an erection, she leapt to her feet. She ran out of the doctor's office and down the streets, where all of her trans, disabled friends gathered to protest. Some laid in the street, some threw eggs at white people, some lamented the patriarchy, others lamented capitalism. Magenta felt at home. She painted a sign with her menstrual blood. The sign said: "KILL ALL CIS WHITE MEN!!!!!!!!@2222222221111111"

Magenta started prancing around the street. She felt free to gallop and whinny at random. Magenta was...home.

Just then, her friend Han Solo Patrick Pamela Starrr yelled "RAPE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!111111" A white men had looked at zer. They went in for the kill. All participants in the protest with vaginas, ripped off their lower garments and began chewing on the men with their vaginas. First his fingers went missing, then a hand, next a leg, soon all his extremities were gone, avenged by the power of womanhood. Moonbeams erupted from their uteri. Empassioned by their victory, the protest participants began to engage in sexual activities.

Magenta took off her pants took off and exposed her penis. Her penis was 13 inches long and veiny and came to a flat head. She ejaculated 3 times in secession. All orgy participants gasped, enamored by Magenta. This was the attention that she had craved. This was what life was worth living for.

A small crowd had gathered amidst the commotion. All the non trans**+ were transfixed by Magenta's long, veiny member; it's girth; it's veins; the power it wielded as a woman. She was a GOD. She let out a long, loud, impassioned whinny. Just then all banks blew up. All republicans died a long, painful, aids-related death. Fuck you Donnold Tump. A real black president ascended to power. Magenta had created The Revolution. She had succeeded.

Such is life in the perfect America. Bernie Sanders 2016.