John’s face turned from vaguely irritated to noticeably angry when he saw that his flight was delayed for another full day. As a young professional just above the age of 30, he had jumped on the first opportunity he got to travel to China for teaching college at a reputable level. However, the flight had one layover in Singapore’s famous Changi airport – a beautiful, nature-filled building that was as much of a tourist destination as any other. John was able to enjoy it for a few hours, but at the end of the day, it was still just an airport, and he was nervous about any tardiness impacting his career.
Luckily, the Changi airport offered luxurious options for passengers to sleep. It’s just one day, John thought, taking in a deep breath. Patience and rationality under pressure were never his strong suits when he didn’t have other people, like students, to keep him from getting into his own head. He had always thoughts services like air and ground transportation should be 100% flawless at all times because peoples’ lives and productivity depended on them.
“Can you believe this shit? Full-day delays are ridiculous.” John said to an attractive female stranger at one of the airport’s bars. After having seen her and her bouncing blonde hair throughout the day, he assumed she was also stuck here for the night. “The weather outside is crazy,” the woman replied with an offended expression, “grow up, man. I’ll gladly stay here another night than fly in that storm.” The woman promptly sat up and walked away, handing John yet another defeat. After a few drinks, John continued to vent to strangers in the area and received even less sympathy for his increasingly tipsy behavior.
After an uncomfortable night of sleep and a light morning hangover, John returned and waited at his gate, certain that his flight would take off within the next few hours. He passed the time by listening to podcasts with his eyes closed, browsing the web through his phone, and by writing down interesting observations he saw on a notepad to help him cope with a space he didn’t want to be in – an idea given to him by a therapist long ago. A few heads turned toward John when he snapped his mechanical pencil with one hand at the announcement of yet another flight delay.
“Come on, people!! How long are you going to keep us here?!” John shouted, silencing everyone around the terminal. “Sir-” one of the flight attendants began, but was interrupted by John: “No, no ‘sirs!’ I needed to be in Beijing yesterday, and you’re telling me there’s a storm outside so disastrous that you need to hold off flying for two whole days? It’s not that long of a flight! Hell, I could’ve been there today if I had driven yesterday!” The security guards positioned themselves into John’s view – although he was fuming, he knew better than to get physical.
To John’s surprise, the blonde woman from yesterday approached him. “Look, man. Have you seen what’s happening outside? I’m a meteorologist and I’ve never seen anything like it in my life. I get it, you’re frustrated, and none of us want to spend another night here, but you just have to get over yourself. Stop acting like a pathetic man-child.” Before John could reply, the woman began to walk away, then motioned for him to follow.
“I’m John, by the way,” John said as he walked with the woman. “I didn’t ask,” the woman replied coldly, “but I’m Kylie.” Kylie silently led John through the airport until they arrived at a huge room with glass walls and a domed ceiling where one could see everything in the sky as clearly as if they were outside. Although the clouds and rain had been apparent to John, he never could’ve imagined what he saw at this vantage point. Craning his neck all the way back, he saw a vortex of fluffy black clouds mixed with what looked like red clouds, wrapping around each other in thick layers. Bright red lightning flashed in the sky moments before the thunder roared loud enough to threaten breaking the heavily reinforced glass.
“What the hell is this…?” John wondered out loud. “Like I said, I don’t know. Nobody knows. It’s a never-before-seen phenomenon, and the safest place we can be right now is in this airport. If you get it now, then do us all a favor and stop embarrassing yourself in public.” The words stung, but the unreal sight was almost incredible enough for John to have forgotten about Kylie completely. The center of the vortex almost looked like some kind of massive glowing eye that could move even the most artistically-illiterate people.
As Kylie walked away, John asked: “Hey, you wanna get a dr-” “No,” Kylie replied without turning around. John sighed, feeling a mix of disappointment and relief now that he had a better idea of the storm, giving him a better excuse for his tardiness if he were to be questioned about it. He continued to walk and mingle throughout the airport for the remainder of the day, coming back to the view every few hours to check on the vortex. The storm didn’t let up – it only seemed to get worse into the evening with the rain pattering harder against the roof.
Before it was time to get ready for bed, John found himself strolling through one of the many gift shops, figuring that he ought to bring something with him to remind him of this crazy trip when it was all over. Loud thunder boomed from outside, shaking a few of the more delicate ornaments. “You see the storm out there?” John asked the cashier, twiddling a small keychain depicting a lion’s head on a fish tail. “Oh, no, I haven’t…it’s been very loud, though,” the cashier meekly replied. “It’s freakin’ wild,” John said, “like, you gotta go to the big dome spot to get the best view. But it’s like a giant evil tornado. This is gonna be my second damn night here,” he laughed. The cashier smiled in return. The lights flickered throughout the airport. After a pause, John continued: “It kinda sucks, but what’re we gonna do, right? I’m just trying to get to China for work. Like, I just wish I could be where I could do my job, damn it!” John chuckled again, hoping that his coping humor was translating well.
At that exact moment, a massive red bolt of lighting struck the airport. All of the lights died in an instant, and the ground beneath John’s feet shook enough to send him onto the hard floor. The impact knocked him unconscious. The keychain, partially wrapped around his fingers, glowed with a faintest little light for a few minutes before going out.
John woke up in one of the airport’s passenger beds the next morning. To his surprise, Kylie was sitting near him on a chair. “Kylie?” he groggily asked. “Oh my gosh, Jen! You’re awake! Thank goodness!” Kyle exclaimed, frantically putting her magazine down and helping John sit up. “What happened last night?” he asked. “We found you knocked out in the gift shop, it looked like you fell. Do you remember anything?”
John groaned, rubbing his eyes while trying to recall. “Storm…storm…storm! Yeah, the storm! Is it still going?” Kylie gave him an odd look. Even without being at the airport’s scenic dome, it was obvious to anyone that today was a bright and sunny day from the large windows around them. “I-I remember I had a little keychain in my hand, too…where is that?” John continued. “Think they probably just put it back. C’mon bud, let’s get you up.” Kylie said, helping John swing himself out of bed and onto his feet.
There was a jolt of unfamiliarity – John was looking at Kylie at eye level. Wasn’t I taller than her? he thought. Adjusting and patting down his clothes, which had also become smaller, he figured he must’ve remembered incorrectly. “I-I’m gonna go check on the vortex,” John said, shaking out his fingers and wrists. “The what?” Kylie asked. “The vortex! You know, from yesterday? Maybe part of it is still there, at least? You coming with?” John expected another swift decline, but Kylie happily agreed with a laugh. She might think I’m crazy, but she seems kinda into me now, I think? Maybe she finally came around to my charm?
John’s wrists and ankles cracked and spasmed as he walked with Kylie, much to his friend’s concern. “You feeling okay, grandma?” Kylie joked with genuine concern. “Yeah, just feeling a little tight in the ol’ joints…must’ve slept wrong?” As John was focused on getting to the dome, he didn’t cast a glance at his changing hands and feet. Within his shrinking shoes, his toes compacted to be smaller than his big toes, and his hands were powerless to become anything but dainty to match his newly bony wrists. His short, blocky nails grew out in both directions on his fingers, giving them captivating ovular forms.
“It’s…totally gone,” John breathed, looking up through the dome at the clearest blue sky he’d ever seen. “Sure you didn’t imagine it?” Kylie asked. “Imagine it? Kylie, you’re the one who showed it to me yesterday!” Kylie simply blinked. “You must’ve really hit your head. C’mon, let’s go check on our flight.” The pair walked back to the gates and saw that their flight to China had been canceled, as the plane meant to fly out had somehow become damaged. John felt rage bubbling within him. He wanted to scream, shout, and accuse the world of being against him. After taking a deep breath, the anger faded away much faster and easier than it ever had before. “That fucking blows,” he mumbled. After a brief silence, Kylie suggested: “Why don’t we get some brunch while we’re here?”
John ordered a burger and fries for himself while Kylie stuck to a light salad while mooching off of her friend’s fries. “Mmm, overpriced but delicious,” John said through a full mouth. His legs shifted while he ate, as he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was getting fatter as soon as each bite went into his mouth. Although he didn’t directly notice it, his gut was right – his stomach flattening wasn’t nearly enough to counteract the bloat he felt the from feminine fat that began to fill out his skinny thighs. His pants stretched in tandem so that they never felt too tight, even when his pelvis was uncomfortably broadening, testing the limits of how far his flesh could stretch. In contrast, his shortened calves had slimmed even further to better match his tiny ankles, and his knobby knees had leveled down along the joints. The light muscle tone in John’s upper arms was smothered out around the same time, leaving him with soft, rounded shoulders.
After brunch, John and Kylie continued to tour around and enjoy the airport, mainly on Kylie’s lead, as John was having trouble figuring out what to do without her company. The pair chatted as they walked, including personal topics that felt odd to talk about between people who had just met each other. John wasn’t sure why Kylie felt so comfortable divulging parts of her life story to him, but he happily rolled with it, hoping that they’d still be able to connect once they left the airport.
“Oh my gosh, I forgot they had a world-class salon here!” Kylie exclaimed as they continued their browsing. “I need a massage and a mani-pedi. C’mon!” Kylie dragged John into the salon by his wrist. “I’ll, uh, wait for you outside,” John chuckled nervously. Kylie gave him the most confused look he’d seen from her yet. “Bitch, get over here!” she laughed. “You are not going to pass this place up! I was here a few years ago, it is divine.”
Although reluctant, John agreed. In the middle of their full body massages, he was certainly happy that he did. Kylie was right, the knots in his body felt like they were evaporating, including the knots that formed on his back during the massage as his frame continued to curve and slenderize. He was thankful that the man giving him the massage managed to avoid touching his junk while his meaty thighs were being kneaded like dough, not realizing that there was very little remaining junk to touch.
After the massage, John and Kylie lounged in the salon chairs soaking their feet while manicurists gently held their hands to begin working their magic. Guys do this shit all the time, if anything it’s just manscaping, John thought to himself, unaware that his nails were soon going to be painted with a cute bright yellow. As his wet feet were being massaged and prepped for a similar treatment, a tingle ran through his chest. At first it felt like it could’ve been nothing, but as his nipples slowly perked and grew, scratching against the inside of his rough shirt, discomfort became hard to ignore.
Kiwi slices were placed over John’s and Kylie’s eyes, and their faces were lightly moisturized. With his hands and feet being worked on, John was completely powerless to address the foreign sensations within his shirt. Fat and tissue accumulated, bolstering little mounds that grew, sagged, grew, and sagged over and over in microdoses. His breathing was heavy, afraid of what the people around him were thinking more than how he felt himself. He was dying to press his chest in the hopes of relieving tension; however, the tension eventually faded by itself once his chest had fully developed into two modest breasts hanging uncomfortably within his shirt.
“How ya feelin’?” Kylie asked as their newly painted finger and toenails were drying. “G-Good! I feel real-really-” John coughed a little, trying to alleviate a tickle in his throat. His voice began to change, although neither he nor Kylie seemed to find it strange. “I feel really relaxed, finally…I think,” he finished. God, what is wrong with me today?
Shortly before it was finally time to get up, John’s clothing seamlessly morphed – his jeans became bell-bottomed and tighter around his ass, while his shirt became an entirely different material and color, fitting better to his feminine figure. His collar dipped further towards his chest, showing off the smallest amount of cleavage that his newly formed bra would allow. The boxers in his pants pressed up against his crotch, sitting comfortably between his legs now that any male impedances had fully retracted. John’s sneakers also shifted into small open-toed pumps.
“Ohmigawd they did such a good job!” Kylie squealed, looking at her own pink nails. John looked down at his pretty little hands and feet and wiggled his digits. He smiled; they did look really damn cute. But looking down at his body developed a growing sense of dread. Things seemed normal, but completely irregular at the same time.
“You okay Jen? I love the yellow on you!” Kylie asked, wrapping her arm around John’s shoulder. “I knowww, I don’t remember the last time I felt so dolled up,” John laughed. Saying that as if it were second nature continued to develop the pit in his stomach. A moment of silence passed before Kylie asked, “So what’s up with you today? We’ve been having so much fun and you’ve been spacey all day!” John looked into her eyes, unsure of how to answer. She looked more beautiful than he remembered.
Putting out a fake smile, John eventually said, “I think I’m, like…ugh, no. Sorry, let me use the restroom. I just need a little refresher.” “As if the salon wasn’t enough!” Kylie joked, taking a seat to wait for her friend. Without thinking about it, John entered the women’s room, and upon seeing his reflection, he was completely unsure of how to react.
A pretty Chinese woman stared back at him in the mirror. “No,” he barely breathed through his lips, clearly feeling stubble on his face as he rubbed it with his fingers. His reflection had such long hair, but he only felt his usual short hair on top of his head when he patted it. As if on cue, the hair on his head began to grow, enveloping the hand on his head and cascading down with increasing volume. Touching his other hand back to his face, the stubble had vanished, and he felt his skin slithering underneath his fingertips.
“Fuck,” John continued to mumble, taking his glasses off and splashing his face with water from the faucet. His thin, dry lips had moisturized and expanded around his rounding jaw. He couldn’t stop touching his tongue to the backs of his teeth as they straightened and whitened, giving him the gorgeous smile he had always wanted. Feeling the skin around his eyelids, there was a surprising sense of relief as they melded and folded together, giving his now-brown eyes the distinct almond shape he thought was familiar. His Caucasian tone was quick to darken and tan into a glowing yellow hue, making him indistinguishable from the Chinese woman the world had been seeing him as.
John held her head. All of the changes felt right, she felt comfortable in her own skin, and yet something about her still felt off. At that moment, Kylie walked in and wrapped her arms around John’s waist. “How’re you babe?” she whispered. A warm fuzzy feeling fluttered in John’s stomach. It was more than lust, it was the same kind of comfort someone would feel with a person they could wholeheartedly trust and rely on. “Better with you here,” John whispered, turning her head around toward Kylie. As they closed their eyes, their lips met with a slow, passionate kiss.
Fragments of John’s life were coming back into her mind. She didn’t know why she kept thinking of herself as John when her name was actually Ju Hua – or Jenny, when she told people in English. She had grown up in China and eventually moved to Singapore to teach, and somewhere along the way, she had met the blonde-haired, blue-eyed Kylie. Her platinum features were so alluring, and to this day Jenny still couldn’t believe that she was lucky enough to call Kylie her girlfriend.
When the kiss broke, Jen turned toward her partner and buried her face into Kylie’s shoulder. Kylie lovingly stroked her partner’s long black hair and checked her head for any injuries due to the fall she had last night. “We can go to the hospital before we go home,” Kylie eventually suggested. Jenny pulled her head back up with teary, yet happy eyes. “No, no hospitals. I’m feeling…better. Where I really need to be right now is back at our apartment. Let’s go home, dear.” Kylie smiled and reached into the small purse that was wrapped around Jen’s arm – something she hadn’t noticed until now. Kylie pulled out Jenny’s car keys. “I know it’s your car, but no way in hell am I letting you drive today. Let’s go!”
This story is a Patron reward for Jun, thank you so much! <3 The story features a man who finds himself in the middle of his mentality and reality changing around him, struggling to figure out why he feels so uncomfortable during his smooth transition to womanhood. I hope you enjoy! This story was patron-exclusive for about ~1 month.
“S-Sire! You c-can’t be serious…!” A small, dirty elf pleaded before the feet of Lord Alwin Xilvyre, who poised in his chair as if it were a throne. “I-I only took a c-couple coppers off the girl, I s-swear!” Alwin glared down at the elf, remaining silent for several seconds that felt like ages to the beggar. Finally, he spoke in a cool, yet firm voice: “Thievery, assault, and an attempt to escape capture. All of these violations have consequences under this company’s roof. Unless you can cough up several dozen shillings, I’m afraid I have no choice but to force your hand into years of physical labor. Any attempt at resisting will grant you a swift execution.” “B-But sire,” the elf stammered, “we’re of the same blood. I’ve a family to return to. Please, s-spare me…!”
Alwin stood up suddenly with furrowed eyebrows and one clenched fist. “Do not ever compare us, you pathetic forest urchin,” he spat. “Five years of labor in the murkiest, most putrid conditions imaginable. Take him away.” Alwin motioned to the burly men who had carried the dirty elf into Alwin’s office. Alwin walked to the window, looking down at the city of Prinath as he tried to clear his mind from the fading screams and accusations from the elf as he was carried down the hallway, never to bother him again.
There were only two kinds of people in this world. The successful, and the unsuccessful. Whether you were human, elven, orcish, argonian, or even a mutant, it didn’t matter. You fell into one of these two categories. That is what Alwin had always believed. Being born into a family of high elves with some of the highest social statuses in Prinath, Alwin had fallen into the former section and had developed in thinking that success was simply his birthright. Same blood, don’t make me laugh, Alwin thought to himself. The shape of our ears means nothing when you live in a tree and I stand atop a utopia.
Alwin returned to his mansion later that evening. Inherited from his late parents, he had more space to himself than anyone would’ve known what to do with. Although he was still a bachelor by choice, he was hoping to woo a certain lady within the coming months. Aah, Countess Iris Guttmacher, Alwin daydreamed, if we were to start a family on this estate, well…I’d be well on my way to achieving new levels of grandeur for the Xilvyre line!
Countess Iris Guttmacher, unwinding in her own posh mansion, let out a sneeze and briefly trembled, getting an uneasy feeling that someone was thinking strange thoughts about her. Her smooth pale legs peaked through the gaps in her towel as she stood up to refill her water to accompany her reading. She unraveled the smaller towel on her head, unleashing a torrent of recently-washed raven-colored hair down her head and back, accenting the soft glow of her violet eyes. For the moment, she also lived alone, but not by choice – her former husband, the earl of a county within Prinath, had been assassinated some years ago, leaving all of his power and prestige to his countess. Iris had a cold, calculating, and realistic outlook on life. Those lucky enough to be within her presence could smell her favorite applied scent of lilac and gooseberries.
Alwin awoke the next morning feeling groggy. It was only the second day of the work week and he was already exhausted at the thought of returning to his office after what had happened yesterday. Acting as both a general manager and a regional manager for the company he was to own one day, Terres, every day was filled to the brim with paperwork, questions from his inferiors, and thinking of how to please the few people he could call his superiors as to ascend to their positions one day. Alwin was also in charge of development and expansion within Prinath, buying land and creating new buildings to further expand his company’s reach. His latest goal was to find suitable land for a bathhouse to be built, although he had no ideas of where to begin searching. Prinath was highly developed compared to most cities, and buildings made of wood, brick, and concrete were already stacked tightly together.
Alwin summoned a young boy to his office. He was a recently acquired contractor, human, and could not have been older than 16. “Boy,” Alwin began, not bothering to ask his name because he knew it wouldn’t be remembered, “I’m lending you a map of Prinath. Today, your duty is to scout around highly populated districts and mark potential locations for our new bathhouse. I’ve already marked a few potential candidates, too.” Alwin also gave him some schematics of the bathhouse’s dimensions, and the contractor nodded without a word before leaving Alwin in peace.
Not an hour passed before one of Alwin’s coworkers burst into his office without warning. She was breathing a bit harder than normal, and her skin had the faintest tinge of red from a recent exercise. In other words, she had run up many flights of stairs to reach Alwin, and was thus inconsequential to him due to being so far beneath him on the corporate ladder. “Sir Alwin, Lord Alwin,” she began, noticeably trying to steady her breath, “have you seen Emil? I received word he was sent up here earlier today.” Alwin mentally rolled his eyes, but with him being so influential and important, he was always sure to put on a good role model front for the inferiors. “I’m sorry, I’m unclear of who you’re referring to. I don’t know any ‘Emils.’” Alwin had hoped that would be the end of the conversation, but when the woman described him, he knew that more of his time was about to be wasted.
“Ah, yes,” Alwin began, “I sent him to comb through a few districts todays. I’m far too busy to find a suitable location for our new bathhouse myself at the moment. He should be back before evening.” “But sir,” the woman’s shoulders dropped, “he was to begin architectural design training today. With all due respect, he is not your errand boy.” Alwin shook his head, explaining his philosophy to the woman that he had explained countless times to other lesser employees: “Look, my dear. The boy is young and eager, but he comes from an unremarkable background. He was not born as a winner like me…or like you,” he added the last part in simply to be polite, then continued: “Either he will barely advance within Terres, or he will burn out trying. By interacting with me, I’ve given him the chance to earn my good graces.” Alwin paused before continuing, thinking about how to unravel this lie into a full story. “Anyone with my recommendation can soar to new heights… Even if he begins his career as a novice architect, he could be designing your next house within a few years under my wing!”
Anticipating that she couldn’t win this argument, the woman sighed. She couldn’t have known the truth; that Alwin simply called the boy to him due to being a bottom-tier contractor that wouldn’t question anything he requested. Recomposing herself, she meekly stated, “I suppose I will move his training to tomorrow. Thank you, Lord Alwin sir,” then returned to her work.
The boy never returned throughout the day nor the evening. Come the next day, a missing warrant was issued, and after one more day had passed, Emil was found dead in a small pond, having been robbed of his clothing and other belongings. While the murderer was being tracked, a brief investigation linked the boy to Alwin’s rash decision to send him out alone. A prestigious name being connected to such a crime made its way all the way up to Countess Iris herself. Gritting her teeth, she decided to pay Alwin a visit at work that day.
Prior to this, Alwin had become increasingly annoyed at the people around him. Many of his coworkers had blamed him for the tragedy. Although he cared little for the boy, his mind was working on overtime thinking about how he could restore his image. As if the murder wasn’t bad enough, the confidential documents that Alwin had given him were also stolen, meaning someone out there had private information about Terres.
A knock rung from Alwin’s door. He knew the countess, the apple of his eye, was due to visit around this time. Clearing his throat, he was prepared to pull out all the stops in order to convince her that he had done no wrong. “Come in,” he said, standing up. The beautiful Iris, wearing a boa of black feathers around her neck with a matching dress, opened the door and graced the room with her powerful presence.
“Lord Alwin Xilvyre,” Iris began, “it has come to my attention that a young man has been murdered within our county here in Prinath. Records state that the boy should not have been given whatever task you had ordered, and had you not ordered such a chore, the death may have been avoided. Does this sound correct?” “Lady Iris,” Alwin began, “I assure you that this sequence of events was simply a terrible coincidence. I instructed the boy to scout, yes, but only the safest and most populated areas. Why, is it such a crime for a young man to walk about on his own? If not for him, someone else may have fallen victim to whatever the murderous fiend was planning.”
Iris thought for a moment before responding. “The boy had confidential documents on him, did he not? I assume I don’t need to assure you how much they may be worth. Alwin, you gave a young, inexperienced boy the equivalent of over a dozen shillings to wave about as he pleased.” Alwin clicked his tongue in thought, ashamed that she had seen this far into his blunder. Attempting to shift blame, he responded: “Lady Iris, I realize that I may have overestimated my employees, and for that, I am truly sorry. But I can promise you, I hadn’t the slightest bit of knowledge that the boy was due for training. I assure you, I only wanted the best for him. I wanted to give him an opportunity to shine.”
Iris’s brow furrowed. She had interacted with Alwin just a few times before today, so she knew how honeyed his words could be. Although she didn’t fully believe him, she knew that she had to find a way to protect him lest the commonfolk began to doubt and ultimately turn against the people in places of power. “Alwin,” she began, “I will do everything in my power to sever your name from this incident. But please, and I beg of you, please do not do anything to draw further suspicion or distrust to yourself. You need to instill faith into the people of Prinath and into the people of Terres. Today, I will leave you with immense disappointment. If this were to happen again, shame to your family name would be the least of your worries, to put it mildly. Have I made myself clear?”
Alwin nodded, taking a breath of relief knowing that the countess was on his side. “You needn’t worry about a thing, Lady Iris. Compensation has already been sent to the grieving family, and the compromised document situation is currently being handled.” Alwin wanted to end his train of thought by asking Iris if she would be interested in attending the theater with him during the weekend, but he refrained given the circumstances. “Good,” Iris said, turning around to leave. “Next time we meet, I hope it to be on better terms. Good day to you, Lord Alwin.”
Alwin thought long and hard to himself that evening. On one hand, he was thrilled that the incident staining his name was being taken care of. On the other, he knew he still had a lot of work to do, especially in getting back within the countess’s good graces.
I will not be coddled, Alwin thought to himself after waking up the next morning. I too can achieve great feats. As today was the fifth and final day of the working week, Alwin decided to push his current responsibilities to next week to spend the whole day scouting for a location to build his company’s bathhouse. The high elf traversed quickly throughout Prinath, marking many potential candidates on a map. However, all of them would require the demolishing of a currently-active building. Alwin also took notes on whatever business was running at the bathhouse’s potential areas, thinking about how cheaply he could buy them out.
Toward the end of the afternoon, Alwin found himself somewhere on the outskirts of his county. The general activity of the population was lower, but that only made Alwin realize that it would be easier to buy land off of a home or company here. A she-orc walking into a small building caught his attention – orcs were very rare in Prinath, and this was the first one he had seen all year. Orcs typically lived in the wilderness and – in Alwin’s opinion – were even stupider than forest elves. On the fat chance that an orc actually lived in Prinath, Alwin knew who his target had to be in order to score the cheapest deal.
Alwin walked into the building a few minutes after the she-orc. The atmosphere had changed completely. The small room was dark and filled with all kinds of exotic scents and artifacts. “Welcome,” the old she-orc behind the wooden counter greeted him. Despite being hunched over, the woman still towered over Alwin by at least half a foot. In this lighting, her pale green skin almost seemed to match the hue of her thin white hair. Alwin grimaced at seeing an orc as the receptionist, but he quickly regained his composure and walked forward. “Hello…” Alwin began, “is this place a…business? A home? I would like to speak with the owner, as I believe I can forward an offer suitable for the both of us.”
“I am a shaman, and this is my home and business,” the she-orc began. “People come here for medicine, rituals, healing… all sorts of things. Very popular with all races and all walks of life. Some fellow orcs even come from forests to visit.” The woman’s breath, being poured down on Alwin, reeked of meat and unclean water. Taking half a pace back, Alwin began his proposition. “Eh-hem, yes, how very lovely. Well, today is your lucky day, Miss-err…” “Tanze.” “Miss Tanze! The pleasure is all mine. I, Lord Alwin Xilvyre, am humbled to meet you,” Alwin said with a very practiced and artificial sincerity. “Let’s cut to the chase, shall we? I would like to buy this plot of land from you so that Terres may develop a new bathhouse for the citizens of Prinath. It will be a brand-new form of healing and serenity to the people. And I’m positive you and your fellow o-orcs would love it as well!” Alwin said, almost stumbling on his final line.
Tanze didn’t reply, so Alwin continued: “Naturally, you would be heavily compensated…to the point where you could even retire! Living the rest of your days among your fellow orcs while indulging on the benefits of our new bathhouse – I know it simply seems too good to be true.” Alwin pulled out a case of several guineas to show to the orc – an amount that was trivial to him, but was more than several years’ worth of labor to the orc.
Tanze thanked him for his offer, but respectfully declined. Alwin inched up the ante a few times, but was met with the same result. “I-I don’t understand,” Alwin began, “why will you not accept my offer? By doing so, you will be helping the people in Prinath and yourself immeasurably!” “I like working,” Tanze replied simply. “I like healing people. I like seeing new people. I like my small place here in Prinath. Very few orcs can live in Prinath. To some orcs, I am a beacon, showing them that anything is possible. I worked hard to be where I am today, and that, to me, is invaluable.”
Alwin’s patience was running out. I need a location by the end of the day, he thought to himself. The sooner I plant the site for the bathhouse, the sooner the compromised documents lose their value. This is the cheapest spot…there’s no reason this damn orc should be refusing me! I’m giving this animal the deal of a lifetime!
“Very well,” Alwin said dully, maintaining his outward composure. “Thank you for your time, Miss Tanze.” Alwin left the area, feeling confused, angry, and defeated. An ugly emotion bubbled within him. A significant part of him wanted the bathhouse to replace the shaman’s home simply to spite her, and to get his self-justified revenge. He wanted Tanze driven back to the wilderness where she belonged. I, Lord Alwin Xilvyre, will not lose to a cursed, wretched, disgusting orc!!!
II
Alwin kept a low profile throughout the weekend, dabbling in his hobbies of reading and writing, but also plotting on how to present his location for the bathhouse and having the shaman’s hut demolished all without the process being traceable back to him from the outside. He drew up a plan to only disclose the information to his most trusted coworkers and would, to his annoyance, forfeit the credit of finding and setting up the location to a different employee to keep his name clean after the last scandal that had almost broken out.
On the other hand, Countess Iris Guttmacher worked to clear Alwin’s name for her own sake and the sake of the citizens’ trust, even though she would have preferred not to come off as rewarding his careless behavior. She sought news outlets like bulletin boards throughout different districts on horseback, signing her name with statements along the lines of saying that Alwin did not make the final judgment call to give the child documents of importance or to send him into the city alone, and that Alwin would instead be responsible for punishing the non-existent realoffender.
Iris sighed, tacking another sheet of paper to a board as the sun was beginning to set. She had lost count of how many papers she went through. A beautiful day that would have been perfect to enjoy at the theater had gone to waste.
Come the first working day of the week, Alwin quickly and meticulously grinded away at the work he had put off last week before calling a few select people to his office. Two elite mages adept at pyromancy were summoned; their existence was not even known throughout a majority of Terres, let alone Prinath. Then, he summoned the supervisor that was closest to his own managerial ranking, spinning a fable of how the great Lord Alwin had the heart to bestow such a unique opportunity onto his underling by assigning him the task of making the final call to place Terres’s new bathhouse over the orc shaman’s hut, and that solving this dilemma so quickly would reflect better upon the supervisor than it would Alwin himself.
The supervisor asked questions, such as: “Has the agreement already been made? Is the building ready to be demolished immediately? Have we already provided payment to the land’s original owner?” Alwin assured him that everything had already been taken care of, and that, with this information, the supervisor could order a demolish permit to be written. During the day, as well as the following day, Alwin returned to the she-orc’s hut undetected, taking note that she seemed to leave the building during noon for lunch. Alwin forwarded this information to the supervisor with the added lie that the building’s owner would leave the place around noon expecting it to be destroyed upon her return.
Towards the end of the fourth working day of the week, Alwin looked down on the city of Prinath breathing a sigh of relief. Things were finally starting to return to normalcy. The case of Emil had been closed. The thieves of the stolen documents wouldn’t be able to make a meaningful profit. The beautiful Iris Guttmacher was working toward his benefit, and the construction of the bathhouse was being taken care of by a separate party.
During the next day at the allotted time, the supervisor Alwin had chosen, alongside the two pyromancers, had arrived at Tanze’s hut. As Alwin had said, the she-orc was out of the building with unknown whereabouts. Without even looking inside, the mages set the building ablaze. The supervisor, enjoying his moment in the spotlight of doing something important, barked commands to the mages to control the fire as if they didn’t already know how to do that. Within a half hour, the roaring flames had died as quickly as they had risen, and the shaman’s hut remained as little more than piles of wood and ash. The supervisor placed a sign firmly into the ground before leaving, claiming the plot of land under the Terres company name.
Tanze felt a twinge of fear at the sight of smoke on the horizon. She ran forward, unable to believe that the ashy, fallen building could be hers. “No, no, no,” she panted, her trot turning into a run. “No… No…!” The smell of the burnt wood and smoke overwhelmed her as she ran closer. “NO!!!” Tanze fell to her knees in front of her home, crying into her palms. A few townsfolk hovered around several paces away, unsure of what to do or say, as most of them thought this burning occurred under agreed business terms.
Rage bubbled within the normally calm and stoic Tanze, mixing with and eventually overpowering her sadness and despair. Noticing the foreign signpost, she ripped it out of the ground and smashed it to splinters with loud, guttural shouting. She picked up the paper, almost disintegrating it beyond all recognition until one word caught her eye. Terres.
Alwin’s scornful face reared its way back into Tanze’s mind. She took a deep breath. The body that was shaking uncontrollably from emotion found its way back to its usual stillness. After another deep breath, Tanze tossed the paper to the wind and walked over her hut, seeing if anything had remained intact. She collected a few trinkles and baubles with clenched teeth, trying to prevent her tears from welling up again. Memories of her starting her business in Prinath were coming back. Memories of her orcish friends visiting her from their village, congratulating her and throwing her a celebration party. Memories of making friends with other humans, elves, and even the occasional mutant. She had regarded the people of Prinath to the highest standard, the ultimate melting pot where every kind of person could get along with one another.
It took a few more hours before Tanze had fully collected herself mentally. Although the loss of her home and business spelled the end of her time in Prinath, she was thankful to be a member of a nearby orcish settlement, the Xoroku tribe, that she could return to. The journey back home led Tanze through a damp, thickly settled forest. She arrived just before sundown. The other orcs were overjoyed at the sight of her until she told them the reason for her return.
“This is a hate crime! To war with Prinath!” A large, hairy orc yelled in the tavern, slamming his massive fist against the counter. Tanze, taking a sip of her beverage, remained silent. “I agree,” said a she-orc, one of Tanze’s female friends. Tanze was touched by the emotions her people felt for her, but she had to speak up soon before the orcs led themselves to an unnecessary conflict. While Tanze had been walking home, she had glanced at one of the only papers she had found within the ashy remains, a page from an old tome that even she had long forgotten about. She had smiled as she read it, realizing that fate hadn’t been as cruel to her as she first thought.
“Brothers and sisters,” Tanze began, “there will be no need for war. No need for bloodshed over what has happened.” “Tanze, you are not serious!” the hairy orc exclaimed, spilling a few drops of ale as he moved his mug around. “Oh, but I am, dear Jogug,” Tanze replied, turning to look at her large friend in the eyes. “Everyone,” she continued, “I will ask your help on another matter. Bloodshed is not to occur, but we will see our pride tended to in another way. I will need your help in finding materials…an emerald or two, fungi that only grows many miles south, and the rib of a deceased brethren, among a few others.” Tanze explained the spell that she was planning to cast, although she remained vague, as she didn’t fully understand every detail herself. The burns and tears from the page she had found describing the spell rendered several aspects undecipherable.
As Tanze and the rest of the tribe toiled throughout the weekend, Alwin had finally found the time and peace of mind to enjoy a show at the theater. He invited Iris to continue courting her while passing the invitation off as a guise to thank her for all of her hard work, but he received a swift decline at her estate. Alone at the theater, Alwin was still able to enjoy the outdoor play centered around sword dancing. Various themes, such as animal sacrifice for fertility, battling evil spirits to protect the land, and combat miming were all expertly performed by the actors and actresses with an equally talented band heightening the performance with their music.
Although the play held deep thoughts, ideas, and traditions passed down throughout history, Alwin became inspired to see a play or hear a ballad about himself with Iris at his side, depicting the would-be lovers battling against the evil stigmas that had plagued him lately. He played the scenes out in his head throughout the night, seeing himself in regal elven gowns vanquishing shapeless foes that represented the thieves that had killed Emil; Emil himself, the wrinkly she-orc Tanze, and other various clumps of lesser humans, forest elves, and orcs. Iris assisted, but was mostly looking to Alwin with sheer admiration and lust – a scenario that Alwin would hope to see outside of his fantasies one day.
The weekend had passed, and the first working day of the week was coming to an end. Tanze wiped sweat off her brow, hovering over a cauldron as she poured ingredients in. The room was dark, lit only by a few candles. Orcish runes and markings had been carefully painted on the floor, with the cauldron being in the center of the shapes that were contained within a large circle. Her brothers and sisters had been diligent in bringing what she had requested. “Jogug,” Tanze called to her friend standing outside of the circle, “do you have the blanket? The spell is almost complete. Do not be alarmed, but I will need assistance shortly.” Jogug nodded.
Tanze pulled a tough dagger off of her hip. Holding her left arm above the cauldron, she sliced the outside of her arm using her right hand, unable to contain a shout of pain as her blood poured into the mixture. “Tanze!” Jogug called, stepping forward. “Do not step closer, not within the circle!” Tanze barked. She walked to the other side of the cauldron, pushing up and against it as if to tip it over. The fresh wound on her arm made it painful and difficult, but she didn’t suffer for too long before the contents of the cauldron were spilled onto the floor. There were many crevices within the floor that took the liquid like water to a river. The red, pungent potion soon filled the outline of the circle and began to overpower the light of the candles with its bright demonic glow.
“O spirits, O spirits,” Tanze whispered in an old orcish dialect, clasping her hands together. “Bringeth forth change for whom who takes, steals, rapes, and plunders us without remorse. Bringeth forth change to whom who is wont with prejudice and injustice. Bringeth forth change to Lord Alwin Xilvyre of Prinath…” she chanted with a clear image of Alwin in her mind. Jogug continued to call her name, as he wanted her bleeding wound to be treated, but Tanze remained chanting and praying for several long minutes before the glow of the potion finally died out. Only then did she look to her friend, step out of the circle, and allow her tribe to take care of her.
Jogug and several other orcs asked her about what she had done. Tanze simply replied that the tribe would have to have faith, as she never expected to see the result of the blood curse she had placed on Alwin. Fluttering her eyelids closed with her wound treated and wrapped, she slept well and made peace with the fact that she would spend the remainder of her days with her tribe.
Alwin woke up the next morning, finding that an odd grogginess stuck with him throughout the afternoon. The workday passed typically – paperwork, meetings, bossing around lessers – but the lethargic feeling continued to persist into the evening. He halfheartedly passed the time and told himself he deserved a moment of boredom after all he’d been through recently.
To Alwin’s annoyance, the sensation did not clear after a good night’s sleep. Light aches were felt around his bones, and work seemed to take more energy than usual. He couldn’t believe it was only the third day of the working week. Occasionally, he would feel a rumble beneath random areas in his body. Come the next day, Alwin’s pale skin had become just a touch darker, and his silvery white hair just a touch grayer. Alwin didn’t notice when looking at himself in his silver mirror, as he was more irritated by how he was feeling. After a grueling day of work, he made his way for the city’s best doctor.
The remainder of Alwin’s evening was spent applying and storing medically prescribed herbs, as well as bloodletting through a leech, as the doctor did not recognize Alwin’s condition and thought to try a bit of everything to start. Through the fourth and fifth working days, the herbs helped lessen the aching pains, but the apathy persisted. Alwin returned to the doctor on the evening of the fifth working day, demanding a more proper solution.
“Bring me your magician or your shaman, I know you have some. You know who I am, there should be no question of my eligibility to be treated by one,” Alwin crankily stated. Agreeing, the doctor called for his medical sorcerer. A tall elf entered the room, a high elf in similar stature to Alwin. Kneeling before Lord Alwin, he stated, “Arkil Aedael at your service.” “You may rise,” Alwin dully stated, in no mood for formalities. Arkil rose and hovered around the sitting Alwin, moving his hands and whispering spells to decipher what ailed his patient. Small multicolored clouds appeared around and above Alwin’s head as the spells were cast.
After several long minutes, Arkil mumbled, “A…blood curse. Milord, no common sickness ails you. I’m afraid it is something much more severe.” Alwin thought for a moment, having limited knowledge on curses. Alwin asked, “Who cast it? Who is it linked to?” “I’m afraid there is no link, no other end.” “What? Explain yourself.” Arkil cleared his throat, then began: “A blood curse is one of the most difficult curses to cast. Not only because the formulae are widely unknown, the magical prowess to cast one require expertise far beyond even myself. Moreover, as the name suggests, a blood curse requires a great deal of the caster’s blood. Throughout what little is known of history, curses of such magnitude have oft been used to sustain the life of another. For example, there is a record of a wizard casting blood curses on his henchmen in order steal their youth, not unsimilar to a vampire. There is also another record of a devious witch casting a blood curse on a man in order to control his mind and make him hers. As you can tell, the curser is actively benefiting from the victim. But, in milord’s case, there is no benefitting party. You have been stricken by a blood curse, and yet the curser is reaping no benefits.”
Alwin, unsure of what to think, simply asked, “So how do we remove it?” Arkil paused, knowing that Alwin would not like to hear the answer. “I-In the previous cases,” he began, “there were two ways to dispel such a curse. The curser had to remove the curse himself, or the curser had to die. The latter case worked since the caster was linked to the curse itself. For this situation, I do fear that only the former will work…”
“Nonsense!” Alwin stood up in a sudden fury, blowing away the colored clouds. “Are you to tell me that nothing can be done for me?! That not even a trained high elf brethren can break a curse?! Do you know how much we pay you for your services?!” Alwin paused for a moment, then continued. “A blood curse without a traceable curser, it is simply nonsense! Why would anyone go through the trouble of casting it? Why would they target me? I am Lord Alwin Xilvyre, damn it!”
“W-Well,” Arkil started after another moment of silence, “as I’m sure milord knows, curses are oft cast for revenge. Has milord made any recent enemies?” Alwin sat back down, feeling a pit widening in his stomach. His head slowly slipped down into his palms. “Arkil,” Alwin said, devoid of emotion, “are the dead able to cast such a curse?”
“Hmm, not likely,” Arkil replied. “Remember, a blood curse requires the caster’s blood. The dead have no such ability to both give blood and cast a curse. I’ve never heard of a blood curse being cast with another’s – especially a corpse’s – blood; it seems inconceivable.” “But what if it is similar to a blood curse? What if I’m not ailed by a blood curse, but something incredibly similar?” Alwin said, returning his head to face the sorcerer. Arkil did not have an answer for his patient, simply stating, “New discoveries are being made daily. I suppose it’s not outside the realm of possibilities…but I do insist that a genuine blood curse has been cast upon you. The only difference between your case and cases of the past is a traceable curser. Everything else is consistent.”
“Thank you, Arkil,” Alwin said, standing. In his mind, Alwin had figured out the reason of his cursing. Any more discussion with Arkil would be going in circles. Alwin left the building as solemnly as he had entered. “O gods…” he mumbled as he trudged home. “I may not be worthy of your forgiveness yet. But if you could find it in your heart to forgive me and lift this curse, I would be forever in your debt, Emil.”
A patron reward for Rei and my longest story yet by far, split into four chapters! The story features the noble high elf Lord Alwin Xilvyre trying to ascend to the greatest possible heights on the corporate and social ladders, only to find himself in a completely different life after taking a few hasty steps too far. Thanks so much for reading!
…and that’s a wrap! The Month of Quickies 2021 concludes with this choose-your-own-adventure story! Would love to know what paths you chose and how it ended out. ;) Thank you all again for reading!
The Month of Quickies 2021 concludes with this choose-your-own-adventure story! Would love to know what paths you chose and how it ended out. ;) Thank you all again for reading!
The story begins at B+1, where two guys awaken from a drunken party the night before in a downtown hotel room, largely oblivious to the magnitude of the chaos that’s swept their city.
Coming soon, part 1 of the uncensored ‘Goop Leak’. When Gus Anders of XF Biotronics is sent on a seemingly mundane investigation in the basement, little could he have known that the mysterious XX6 transformative slime compound had escaped. Concept by Blackshirtguy.
Announcement: After a long time telsis now also has a pay page !!! His art is remarkable if you are into mind control latex tg transformations, you should mention this subscriber!
If you’d like to support my work and see all my stories in their full uncensored glory, please consider supporting me at https://subscribestar.adult/telsis-trove
I will be posting all my new stories there. I will also be continuing to to maintain my DeviantArt page and whilst I may post some safer stories there, it will mainly be used for teasers and pin ups. https://www.deviantart.com/telsis
A sharp knock on your door snaps you away from staring at the doorknob of your new roommate’s closed door. Your coffee has gotten cold, you’ve been wordlessly standing there for that long. The last few days have been… Uneventful. You keep expecting to hear something, to sense something, but your house has been all quiet. You want so badly to go in there, to check on him, to see what kind of state he’s in, but you promised you wouldn’t. Not even to bring him some water. The first three days, he said, were crucial… Like a caterpillar in a cocoon, he needed to remain totally isolated, even the smallest piece of input could bring him out of his trance. He needed his first outside contact to be from his “hypnotherapist”.
Who is probably the one banging on your door right now.
You don’t know what sort of person you were expecting… maybe a skeezy guy holding a pocket watch, but a professionally dressed woman with a black breifcase and her hair tied up in a bun certainly wasnt it. She greets you warmly, and smiles at your stunned expression. She’s hot! What’s a woman like this doing making house calls to hypnosis fetishists? She assures you she’s here to see your boarder and asks whether you’ve resisted the urge to look inside. You blush, but tell her that no, you haven’t so much as cracked the door into the room. She seems pleased to hear this, but gestures you to leave her to her patient.
You pause for a split second, your eyes flicking to the door. You realize too late that this woman’s presence has given you a huge, throbbing boner. You want to see inside? She inquires casually, trying not to smirk. You stutter something about being too busy, and quickly leave them to it. You don’t want this beautiful woman to think you’re aroused by what’s happening in there.
But as you brew a new coffee, you find yourself getting curious. Moreso than you’ve ever felt before. What’s going on in there? What are they doing? You sneakily sidle up to the door, pressing your ear against the cold, hard wood. What you hear from the woman you let in makes you cock throb like never before.
“Oh, that’s a good girl… what a good little slut, sitting like this for so long… You’re such a posable little toy, you could sit like this for days, and you will… You’re barely started yet… There we go…. Lets get these off you… oh, pretty! *snap* nothing going on in there at all, gooood little bitch…. Here, drink this… good girl…. All of it, there you go…. Okay slut, time to lie down. On the floor here…..”
You listen through the door as the hypnotherapist starts a routine, getting her patient to relax…. to allow more information in…. to absorb it permanently more and more. Your hand starts to creep into your pants as you start to get an idea of what sort of instructions your guest has been mindlessly listening to. Hes in there… addicting himself to sex. Sex as a woman! With men, with women, always as the submissive, the obedient, taking cocks inside him…. God, why would anyone do that to themselves? But you look down at your throbbing cock, and part of you thinks…. That actually is pretty hot… not being feminized, that sounds like a nightmare…. But fucking a brainwashed little bitch? One who has willingly erased his mind and turned himself into a demure little doll? You can kinda see the appeal in that….
You pull you hand out of your pants, not quite sure how to deal with that thought. Would you? Could you? Will you get to? And suddenly there’s a click, and the door you’re eavesdropping through swings open and you’re left awkwardly standing where you know you’re not supposed to be with a very obvious bulge showing.
The therapist does not seem phased. She just smiles kindly and asks you if you’ll so your guest another favour? You nod, not really sure how else to react, and follow her back into the dark room.
Your eyes adjust and you swallow. The air is thick with sweat and…. Something else. Something girly smelling? Maybe the therapist sprayed something in here? You decide not to worry about it as your eyes fall on your guest. Lying on his back on the floor, his mouth hangs open and his eyes stare blankly at the ceiling above him. He’s wearing nothing but some kind of cage over his cock, which seems to be leaking fluid. He looks high out of his mind.
Your cock twitches.
The therapist explains to you that he’s not even in the room. He’s so deep in a trance and has been subject to severe brainwashing since you locked his door. She proves her point by roughly slapping his face. He doesn’t even blink.
So what does she want you to do? You ask, never taking your eyes off the hypnotized person in front of you. Two things, she responds, to add to your list of instructions. She hands you her suitcase, and opens it. Its full of syringes.
Every day at precisely 12pm, you are to enter the room and inject her with two of these syringes, she says, removing two of them. One in her rump, she demonstrates, plunging the needle into your guest’s ass and squeezing it empty… and the other into her lips. She swiftly does the same with the second syringe into the lip above his gaped mouth. Try to alternate top to bottom each day, she instructs, smiling.
You’re stare into the suitcase, at the rows and rows of needles you’ve just been asked to drug another human being with. You have so many questions about what is happening in here… but this woman is to beautiful, so intimidating in how calm she is…. so instead you ask, what’s the second thing? She grins, and drops her gaze to your still-bulging crotch. She needs you to… start feeding her, she begins. Her patient has… extremely specific dietary requirements, and she asks you if you’ll be willing to provide semen to feed her with?
Your cock twitches.
She chuckles as you stand with your mouth open, staring stupidly, not unlike the other occupant of the room. It’s alright, she assures you. She only needs a small amount to get by each day, perhaps two orgasms worth? She begins sitting up the hypnotized guy, and getting him back into his bondage rig. By the time she’s put his vr headset back on, you’ve mustered up the courage to speak.
How often, and how should you… administer it? You ask lamely. She packs her belongings, getting ready to restart the looping hypnosis. Oh, once or twice a day will be fine…. as for how to get it in her.. Well, she’s not gonna bite. Put that package you’re smuggling down her throat and just try to enjoy yourself!
She tells you she’ll see you in a few days for the next conditioning enforcement and with a smile leaves you alone in the room with a man in the process of brainwashing himself into a sex slave. This is happening.
Your cock twitches. You wonder if now will qualify as feeding time….
“Are you sure you want to go through with this?” You ask, running your finger over the large red button. This is all so weird. When your friend, not really even your friend, this stranger you talk to on the internet, when they messaged you and asked if you could do them a favor… How could you say no to a deal like that? You didn’t think they would really take you up on your offer of a room. A room to stay in while they erase themselves.
“I’m sure…” he giggles, eyes wide, excited at what he’s finally doing. You’re thinking of him as a he, but even at a glance you can tell there’s something else going on there. He’s been taking something, surely. Men don’t have figures like that, waists that tiny. Men especially don’t have lips that large or such long beautiful hair…. What the fuck is up with this guy?
“You…. You’re not gonna rob me and leave me here are you?” He smirks, choosing not to look you in the eye. You feel a slight sting as you realise this is all part of it. He doesn’t even trust you. If he did, would it really count as “true helplessness”?
Because that’s why he’s here. You think back to the ad you responded to. It was only a few days ago, but things have moved so fast since then….
WANTED: A partner to help me experience true, complete helplessness. I will need a room in your home, in which I will dose myself with mind-altering drugs, bind myself beyond escape, and use hypnosis to fuck my mind beyond comprehension. You will need to take me to some pre-paid appointments, and watch over me to make sure I don’t die. After 40 days, my schedule will be complete and you can do whatever you like with me. Use me, make money off hiring me out. Sell me for all I care.
So you watch, transfixed and this person goes about binding themselves tightly in place. As they shove a large vibrating plug into their asshole. As they pull a sports mouthguard from its case, and carefully, slowly insert it over their teeth. He showed it to you earlier, it’s completely lined with tabs of LSD. He’s got three more that you will have to put into his mouth every 10 days. He said there’s enough in each one to totally fry his brain, and absorbing it through his gums should make it kick even harder…. This guy is really serious about what he’s doing.
He beckons you over, and you help him finish off his rig. You bind his hands, place the VR headset over his eyes, noise cancelling headphones over his ears, and finish up with the ball-gag over his lips. He takes a sharp inhale through his nose as he steers himself for what’s to come. Even around the ball in his mouth, you can see him smiling involuntarily. He’s fucking loving this.
You look over the schedule he handed you, detailing his pre-paid appointments. He has a hypnotherapist coming every three days to, as he put it “reinforce my programming”, you’re supposed to let them in and just leave them to it. In 14 days you have to remove him from the rig and transport him to a small private surgical practice nearby. You’re not sure what they’re going to do to him there, but you’re supposed to put him back on hypnos as soon as he gets out of surgery.
From there, there are 2 more surgical appointments a dental appointment of some description, and one right at the end of the 40 days, with apparently 2 weeks of recovery time in the hospital. What the fuck is this guy planning on doing to himself?
The final note, just mentions a dodgy tattoo and piercing studio downtown. You’ve walked past it before, but the people there seem a little extreme for your liking. The note next to it says “just leave me there if you don’t want to deal with me anymore”.
You look from the list you’ve agreed to stick to, to the immobile person bound in front of you. He’s bobbing up and down now, looking like a little kid about to get a candy shopping spree. He gives the signal, a slow, calculated nod, and you push PLAY on the device plugged into his headset and headphones. Flashing lights and strange noises start, and you’re sure are going to continue nonstop for the next 40 days.
As agreed you exit the room, turning off the light and locking the door behind you, not to return for 12 hours to check on him.
You stand at the door for a long time thinking about what’s going on on the other side of it…did you just get yourself a free sex slave? Coz it really seems like that’s what he’s doing to himself. Well, if nothing else, the next 40 days, are going to be really fucking interesting.
—–
*Giggles*
Hi friends! It feels nice to be posting again. I couldn’t find any good porn to go with this story, so if you find some, like send it my way and I’ll add it :D
I suuuuper wanna try this for myself… any volunteers to be my babysitter?
From: Kim-Babe, please don’t make me do this…. I’m sorry okay! I won’t do it again! (message sent 4:50pm)
From: Dennis - Nuh-uh! You want to come to my job and embarrass me to entertain your douchey new friends? You can work my shift tonight! (message sent 4:50pm)
From: Dennis -And if you have any ideas about getting your body back after work, you’ll send me every damn selfie I tell you to. Make it good, your mates want to see some cleavage! (message sent 4:51pm)
From: Kim- Okay…. but just this one, right? I don’t want these guys to think you’d cheat on me? (message sent 4:52pm)
From: Dennis- That’s not what you were thinking about last night! Flashing my top up for your idiot mate Don. You’re lucky this is all I do to you. Now send the selfie or you can work my whole week for me. (message sent 4:54pm)
To: Don, Jack, Henry, Josh, Dennis. From: Kim - Great to see you boys last night! Thanks for ALL the tips! XX Kim (message sent 4:56pm)
From: Dennis - Good. How does that feel? To be just a set of tits attached to “just a waitress?” (message sent 4:56pm)
From: Kim - Okay, you’ve made your point… It’s embarrassing okay…. I gotta start your shift now. (message sent 4:58pm)
From: Dennis - Don’t forget, you’ve gotta send another every hour! (message sent 4:59pm)
——–
To: Don, Jack, Henry, Josh, Dennis. From: Kim - Hooters! Come down and say hi boys! Maybe you’ll see more of all this! (message sent 6:08pm)
From: Dennis - Ha! I knew that would sound funny! Also btw you’re 10 minutes late! (message sent 6:11pm)
From: Kim - I know I’m sorry, there were these customers. They were being assholes and one tried to put a spoon up my butt! (message sent 6:11pm)
From: Dennis - Awwww what’s the matter? Can’t handle being “just a waitress” babe? Welcome to hospo! How are you doing on tips? (message sent 6:12pm)
From: Kim - I’ve made none? Am I supposed to be going for tips? (message sent 6:12pm)
From: Dennis - Not gonna eat very well this week if you don’t! Tell ya what, make $100 in tips tonight, and I won’t mess with your brain anymore! (message sent 6:13pm)
From: Kim - What did you do…. I feel funny…. Slow. Bubbly. Did you do this to me? (message sent 6:17pm)
From: Dennis - Haha. Good luck out there! Get your flirt on and make dat monaaayyyy! (message sent 6:18pm)
———-
To: Don, Jack, Henry, Josh, Dennis. From: Kim - Heeeey boys….. You’re all missing out! There’s so many yummy guys here, I might have to pick another while I wait hehehe xxxxKIMMY (message sent 7:30pm)
From: Dennis - Late again! And I didn’t tell you to say that! Where’d you get those terrible ears from? (message sent 7:32pm)
From: Kim - hehe a cuuuuute customer gave them to me! they were his tip arent they hawt?! (message sent 7:33pm)
From: Dennis - Maybe I overdid it…. No more late snaps! You’re supposed to be be learning a lesson! (message sent 7:33pm)
From: Kim - soz babe donny is coming to see me im gonna drink with him after my shift! i dunno if ill have time for more pix tho kay don’t wait up he said he wants to give me somethin omg fun rytttt!!!!! (message sent 7:34pm)
From: Dennis - No! No! Do not hang out with that douche! You come home straight after work! (message sent 7:35pm)
From: Kim - bossy much? I’m not your property luv and anyway donnys gonna pay! if ur not careful i myt go be his gf insteada urs lol :p hes a total bad boy and im kinda into that (message sent 7:36pm)
From: Kim - have good night cya whenever i make it home lolol mwah! (message sent 7:37pm)
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My cap swap for @evie-hyde I hope you love it as much as I loved yours! xox
The first part of a cooperative story between me and @agesavage
Phase one
Congratulations on being selected as a Beta tester for our exciting new product the series 3000 full functioned adaptive telepresence unit, GirlDoll™ model.
The purpose of this trial is to test the effects of long term use of a GirlDoll™ artificial body in conjunction with the Layzee-Dreams medical stasis pod™.
Please be sure to follow all instructions in this booklet carefully and be sure to complete the provided diary every day so that we can customise your GirlDoll™ experience to your specific needs.
Chapter 1
Installation and use of your Layzee-Dreams medical stasis pod™
Begin by running a system diagnostic while in standby mode. To access standby mode first enter your user id code as shown on page ten of this manual….
“Blah blah blah”Andy groans skimming through the thick instruction manual “this shit is worse than flat pack furniture. Avoidance of feedback reinforcement during calibration. System power mapping back ups. Quantum exchange manifold connections. Holy crap do they really expect me to read all this? I just want to get to the good part.”
Andy had been waiting for weeks for today, ever since being accepted as a beta tester for the next generation artificial body and now it was finally here he had to do homework! He struggled to digest the densely written text but it was just giving him a headache.
“And another thing” he grumbled tossing the manual aside “I’m a guy, they can’t seriously expect me to use a GirlDoll, that would be just weird.”
He considers just backing out of the whole deal but reading the small print on the contract he has already singed makes him wince. Not only would he not get paid for being in the trail he would also be on the hook for all shipping and handling costs. After doing the maths he swallows hard and decides that a week is not such a long time, he will just have to man up and be a girl for a while.
He takes another stab at the manual still not understanding half of it but satisfied he has got a grip on the basics. He breaks open the first box revealing a shining chrome pod slightly taller than him. He hooks up the power and the plumbing and performs the recommended checks as best he can strips naked and taps the green button marked OPEN.
“Here goes nothing then” he sighs climbing into the pod.
The pod hisses shut and for a long moment he lays in the dark with the sound of his own breathing and the smell of plastic. Just when he is starting to think this thing must be broken an electric jolt runs through him and everything goes white and then black again. He jerks and thrashes in the dark groping for the release switch on the inside of the pod but instead of smooth plastic his fingers scrabble again cardboard and Styrofoam beads. He bursts out into the light, showering the room in packing material. He shakes his head trying to get his bearings while his brain struggles to catch up. He is is sitting up in the wreckage of the other box while he stares at the gleaming surface of the stasis pod that houses his body. After a minute everything snaps into place….
“Holy crap!” he squeaks in a much higher voice than he is used to “It worked, I’m a chick!”
He clambers out of the box his misgivings about using a female body forgotten in the rush of excitement. Once he is standing the first thing he notices is that his apartment looks huge now, obviously his new body is a lot smaller than he is used to, by comparing himself to a doorway he estimates he is around 5’4”. The second thing he notices are his tits, small and perky they sit high on his chest wrapped in a lacy blue bra, as a lifelong fan of tits he has to admit they are a pretty nice pair even if they aren’t as large as he would like. He gives them and experimental prod feeling the supple flesh give under his finger
“Weird” he grumbles “but kind of nice. I wonder what the rest looks like?”
He hurries to his bedroom to check himself out in the mirror. Even just the simple act of walking feels subtly off in this body, his hips won’t move right and even though his current form is slim and well toned he is acutely aware of things jiggling every time he moves. He grits his teeth until he reaches his goal then any thoughts of strangeness or discomfort are driven out by the vision in the mirror.
She… He… no she, he can’t possibly think of her as anything but female. She is gorgeous, long blonde hair frames her beautiful face, her blue eyes wide with shock and excitement. He twists and turns admiring her firm ass and long legs and particularly the smooth flat space between her legs.
He is practically panting with excitement by the time he has finished his inspection, the idea of spending a week in this body no longer seems like a hardship and he is already thinking of fun ways to “test” it. After all he wants to do his bit for science….
“Cy? You doing alright?” The photographer’s voice snapped the teen model out of her daze. “Huh? Oh nothin’, just feelin’ a bit spacey today,” She chuckled, squatting down for the next pose. It had only been a week after meeting her agent and Cy was already at her fifth photo shoot. Her agent always joked she was a modeling TITAN, though the joke rarely landed a laugh, the teen not getting the reference. Cy remembered feeling devastated after her accident, but with some tech upgrades and artificial skin grafts, the girl was living a normal life. Well, beyond normal really. She was apparently taking the hip hop modeling market by storm. She was getting more offers than she could keep up with and if it wasn’t for her amazing agent she would be completely overwhelmed. However, every so often she wondered if there was more she could be doing with her upgrades… saving people… maybe join that Teen team or Justice something or other, whatever it was called… but the thoughts always seemed to get hazy and leave her with an empty stare until she snapped back to the present. That was her business, she thought, bending over and arching her back. Besides, modeling and dancing is WAY more profitable. “Good news, Cy,” her purple haired agent walked up, still holding her phone, “We just got the call and you got the spot dancing with Queen B at the Music Award Show!”
“BOOYAH!!” the teen cheered.
If you’d like to support my art, consider the following: For Daily Sketches and extra Updates and Polls, support my Patreon! If you want to just help with a one-time donation, here’s my KOFI Or Message me about pinup commissions!!
The blonde bombshell grumbled as she wandered the streets of the coastal city, “The damnable wench will pay for her treachery! To reduce Thor Odinson to this… weaker form,” She grumbled staring at her perfectly manicured hands. “If she thinks that a Lady Asgardian is any less of a threat, than she will know the harsh folley of her mistakes!!” Bebe panted, peeking out from an alleyway. She had thought this was just another hero, easily bent and written off… then the coed started throwing cars! The Baroness sighed, catching her breath. She had to think of a plan, since she couldn’t just undo a freakin’ GOD!! She watched as the Asgardian princess made her way towards the beach. “Hmm, maybe if I shift things around a little bit…” She held out her hand, reaching out to Thor’s mind and memories.
Thor glared, staring around, feeling an itch at the back of her head. “You forsaken witch! Come out and face the Daughter of… the Son…” She shook her head and turned around. “What devil’s trickery be this?” She felt fuzzy, not like a cute animal, but more like she was missing something. She focused, “I am Thor… Goddess of Thunder Thighs and bringer… uhm, bringer of heroes to…” She shook her head again as something still seemed off. “I… Am Lor, Valkyrie of the All-Father… Guider of Heroes to… to uhm, Valhalla I think?” She twirled a silken tress of her long platinum hair. “Yes, that sounds right… I guide big strong warriors to… uhm, now where was Valhalla?”
“Hey babe, you lost?” Lor turned and saw a large, muscular man approaching. She blushed, such a vision sculpted of the finest marble… she shook her head, “ "N-no, The Mighty Lor is… uhm, totally not lost,” She giggled, her voice sounded so subdued and flirty. The man smirked, a bit confused, but the hottie in the costume did seem a touch lost. “You sure?” He walked closer, Lor shivering at his masculine presence. “Y-yes… Uhm, I’m like, a guide to… to Valhalla and-” “Oh Valhalla? That new Dance Club on the Strip?” He smiled, Lor nearly melted. “I… Y-yes, that sounds right,” She smiled, still staring at his oiled muscles. “Well, how about you ‘guide’ me there tonight? I’d love to see you dance,” He wrapped a thick arm around her waist. Lor purred, “I-I would love to show you, darling Warrior…”
Bebe sighed in relief, “that should keep the blonde busy for awhile… This job is getting dangerous… My contract did NOT include gods and cosmic entities… way above my pay-grade…"
If you’d like to support my art, consider the following: For Daily Sketches and extra Updates and Polls, support my Patreon! If you want to just help with a one-time donation, here’s my KOFI Or Message me about pinup commissions!!
Robin hacked and giggled, the gas making him feel light-headed. The Joker smiled watching in glee as the Boy Wonder grew more curvy and full-figured, a shape he was very familiar with. “It’s amazing,” The mad clown spoke in his usual comedic tone, “A real GAS I’d say,” He hooted caressing the fire extinguisher shaped canister, “One itty bitty spray, and I can remake even the most loyal of sidekicks into a more pleasant form,” He gave Robin another blast as the boy wonder let out a girlish shriek of surprise. “Y-you won’t get away wit dis, Puddin’! Bats is gonna… gonna…” her voice caught in her throat as a gloved hand covered her mouth.
“And a second dose of my ‘Harley Recognize Ya’ gas, and I get a brand new little Fangirl excited to help me spread cheer to all of Gotham!” The Joker laughed wildly as Robin’s suit dissolved to a more proper, skin-tight clowngirl jumper. The panic fading from her white makeup covered face and a ditzy smile spread ear to ear.
“Golly, Mistah Jay, that sure is a great idea! I wanna help you anyway I can!” The new Harley giggled twirling her cowl’s bells. “I knew you would, dear Harley. Now why don’t you go over there and help Commissioner Harley and Cat Harley fuel up the machine? I’m certain a certain BatBrain will be here any minute to runi our fun… she’ll be the perfect trophy to add to my collection…” The Clownish group laughed, the Joker’s voice piercing the air with unhinged glee.
If you’d like to support my art, consider the following: For Daily Sketches and extra Updates and Polls, support my Patreon! If you want to just help with a one-time donation, here’s my KOFI Or Message me about pinup commissions!!
Happy Fourth of July!! Didn’t have any major plans this year, so I decided to knock out a fast sequence to celebrate the holiday.
If you’d like to support my art, consider the following: For Daily Sketches and extra Updates and Polls, support my Patreon! If you want to just help with a one-time donation, here’s my KOFI Or Message me about pinup commissions!!
![TG 186: Portal - Part 2/3 [Reality AB]Remain living as my Bethy-self for the rest of my life.Push th](https://64.media.tumblr.com/771d638abf3bad94c340d9eb519d883b/c43f9c4810d5a81e-36/s1280x1920/191ce245e0b2edde3df82979a1dc0642e8cc8776.png "TG 186: Portal - Part 2/3 [Reality AB]Remain living as my Bethy-self for the rest of my life.Push th")
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