Vice of the Voiceless - Timothy

 8/25

Captioning 101 - check the picture is big enough before deciding to use it. Sorry if this one is hard to read.

It is a continuation of the Pink n Prissy story. The rest are on my index page.

Cassie shouldn't have been surprised when Timothy turned up at her door – she had asked her younger sister to slip him an invitation in class after all – but still, seeing him standing there silently looking down at his feet brought her an unexpected feeling of joy. He had come because he needed her help. He had come because he had no other options. He couldn't say so since the serum Josie had given him had paralysed his vocal chords but the message was loud and clear and could be described by a single word that hovered between the high school boy and the Pink n Prissy member – Desperation.

Cassie held out her palm and Timothy placed his card in it and slumped past her into the house. She didn't need to look at it to know Terri's preferences – FRILLY, SWEET AND GOOD ENOUGH TO EAT. Her fellow collective member may be the tomboyish computer nerd of the group but when it came to how she liked her sissies, there was no ribbon, petticoat or lace to be spared.

“This way,” she led her despairing captive up the stairs and into her room. She pushed through another door, pulling the boy by his hand and Timothy's jaw dropped as he realised he was in a walk in closet surrounded by rails of pink outfits and prissy dresses. “Don't worry, you're not the first boy to react to my torture chamber like that – won't be the last either. They usually protest a bit more though. I can't decide if I miss it. Oh, well, by the time we're through, you'll be dying on the inside. At least you will be if you ever want to speak again...”

And so Timothy's transformation began. Cassie took painstaking care over every detail, drawing out every moment of her prey's humiliation – carefully folding his clothes as he removed them and covering his naked body in hair removal cream. After giggling in mock embarrassment when he became aroused by her touch, she pulled a pair of layered panties up his legs followed by a pair of sheer stockings. Breast forms inside a lacy bra were next and then a carefully sized flowery dress was chosen and pulled over his head. By this stage, Timothy's erection was well and truly gone and terror gripped his features as Cassie painted them liberally with her cosmetics A few finishing touches; a nylon cap to contain his hair under the long feminine wig, modest white heels, delicate wrist-length gloves, and after two hours of hell the high-school boy was a sight to be beholden.

“You look delicious!” Cassie exclaimed to Timothy, who was unable to meet her proud gaze. “I am almost sad you look so good. You will get the antidote for sure. I would love to keep you like this as my little pet.” She continued to look at him thoughtfully. “You're probably wondering why I have so many outfits than fit Terri's preferences,” she looked around her at the wall-to-wall clothing and blushed a little. “Oh whatever, who are you going to tell...” she grinned at Timothy and pulled back a rail of dresses on their hangers to reveal the wall behind. It held a collection of photographs arranged lovingly, not trophies of prissy sissies she had created but something much more dear. She reached to adjust her favourite picture of Terri and beamed.

Pic Dick Part 3

 7/25

I'm really glad people liked this one. It was a lot of fun to write.

Pouting lips...plucked eyebrows...long lashes...nail extensions...an impossibly round butt...the barrage of female and often exaggerated body parts came thick and fast and Richard saw himself transform before his now heavily made-up eyes as the girls sent picture after picture. At one point there seemed to be disagreement over what outfit he should be wearing as 'Stephanie' and 'Brie' posted competing images – first a cheerleading dress, then a tutu, followed by various slutty party dresses until finally Delilah stepped in and uploaded a sequinned clubbing outfit that framed his massive breasts.

Richard tried to cry out in horror but his bulging pink lips seemed to be forced into a permanent kiss face and he could only manage a lisped groan. The sheer volume of his newly bloated ass had forced him into half-standing position albeit a very clumsy one as he was now wobbling on a pair of stripper heels. He jiggled around on the spot in a frenzy almost falling on his face. How was this possible? What the hell had those bitches done to him?! Trying to gather an ounce of composure, he took in his reflection and saw that his skin had a bimbo pallor that almost gave off as much gleam as the mirror itself. Seeing his absurd new reality, a ball of regret burned in his now empty groin. He grabbed his phone and after several false starts thanks to his nail extensions, he sent off a desperate hail Mary.

'please give me my penis back – im so sorry'

There was a moment of radio silence before Stephanie posted 'VIDEO'. Her demand quickly gathered momentum and the other girls provided an echo. 'VIDEO' 'VIDEO' 'VIDEO'

His spirit broken, Richard fumbled with his phone. He selected the camera icon and unable to even muster enough resolve to meet the lens with his eye, he squeezed his meek message between his bloated lips.

“Ppplleeez, I'mth tho thowwy. Ppleez giff me back my dick'. He uploaded the video. Minutes dragged by as nearly a dozen girls were no doubt giggling over his pathetic display until finally a single reply came through from Delilah.

'OKAY' Relief flooded Richard's unnatural curves, at least until the follow up. 'JEEZ, I GET SO MANY OF THESE. HOPE THIS ONE'S YOURS;)' It wasn't. The resulting photo bore no resemblance to the mighty lance formerly known as Richard's cock but was rather a timid tiny thing, shaved completely bald and stripped of any hint of masculinity, barely two inches and tied off with a little pink bow. One final message appeared.

'Delilah has blocked Richard from the group'

Pic Dick Part 2

 6/25

On a normal day, Richard would have been quite grateful for a picture of some buxom bouncing breasts in exchange for a snap of his giant dick. Unfortunately, today wasn't a normal day. Instead of the return send of his dick pic as hoped, he got a pair of juicy jugs and as soon as he opened the image, he felt his chest begin to expand, stretching the fabric of his sister's dress to breaking point. He tilted over forwards from the weight of the globes and almost toppled from the heels his feet were painfully shoved into.

'OOOPS, WRONG PIC' a follow up message arrived. Then another – 'SHOW ME, SHOW ME!'

Richard reluctantly fired off a selfie. Swollen nipples peeked from the torn fabric of a dress simply not designed to house such melons and he briefly pondered how under different circumstances, he would have enjoyed playing with his new chest. However, it was difficult to enjoy such pleasures of the female flesh when his manly skin dagger had been so abruptly confiscated. His phone buzzed once more.

'THAT'S NO GOOD. YOUR DRESS IS ALL RUINED :(' And one more – 'HERE YA GO!'

The accompanying image was of a pair of skimpy satin pyjamas and before Richard could register another thought, the painfully tight ruin of dress vanished and was replaced with the soft and comfortable outfit. He gasped, grateful that he could finally catch his breath but equally mortified by the sight of his new titanic tits spreading the flimsy material so wide. Sitting on the end of his bed to support himself against their mighty weight, he gaped into the mirror at the ludicrous new shape that had befallen his body. Somewhere deep beneath the mounds on his chest, his heart thudded with panic, juggling the loss of his stolen cock with the arrival of his blooming bust. The phone vibrated against his leg and shaking with fear, he picked it up.

'HOW RUDE OF ME TO LEAVE YOU WEARING A WIG! HERE... ;)'

A shot of long blonde hair filled his screen and then toppled over his shoulders as it swallowed his formerly closely cropped brown style. Richard brushed it away like a veil and squealed as he saw himself in the mirror. He sat praying silently for his nightmare to end until with a sense of futility he sent what he vowed was one last picture with a begging plea for mercy. The photo of the chesty babe, himself, uploaded to the app and he waited, his eyes glued to the screen. Minutes passed. Finally, a new type of message appeared. Followed by another and another and another...

'Delilah has added Stephanie to the group' 'Delilah has added Brie to the group' Delilah had added Hayley to the group...' Then the pictures started to arrive like a raging flood.

Pic Dick Part 1

 5/25

So begins the first of two 3 part series from this season...a rare magic series from me

Richard had a big dick. Everyone knew it. But just in case they didn't he liked to make sure. He would insert his giant schlong into any conversation it would fit. He would wear the skinniest jeans so that the whole world could appreciate his impressive bulge. But most of all, he liked photographic proof. He would send, obviously very wide angle, shots of his dong to every girl at his school whose number he could get his hands on, and today was Delilah's turn. Armed with a particularly engorged shot of his splendid cock, he gleefully sent it her way via the messaging app on his phone with the caption 'No Filter'. The reply was almost instantaneous.

'MINE! ;)'

Richard felt immediately off-balance as if a great weight had been lifted from him and his once skinny jeans seemed suspiciously loose. He fumbled for his trusty sabre but found only an empty hollow in its place. Panic seized him and with trembling fingers he sent a desperate plea to Delilah. 'GIVE THAT BACK!'

'Not yet! If you want it back, you need to look like a girl deserving of some cock. Send a pic, get a dick! ;)'

Richard's mind was racing. How was this possible? Did it matter? Without his monstrous manhood, he was nothing but a...what? A girl? He gulped, realising what he had to do. After stuffing three pairs of socks into his jeans, he shuffled out of his bedroom and to his sister's room across the landing. She was two years older and rarely paid him any attention but when he explained what he needed, she was looking at him like a present on Christmas morning.

“So the rumours are bullshit?” she giggled seeing the pairs of socks tumble out of his jeans as he removed them. Richard fought the temptation to correct her, knowing that his missing dick would only draw more humiliating responses from his sister. He just needed to get this over with and keep any future shots of his colossal appendage away from Delilah. Thirty minutes later, his sister had gleefully stuffed him into an old party dress and stockings, slapped on some makeup and fished out a long blonde wig from the back of her closet that had been part of an old halloween costume. She had even fastened a slutty-looking choker while he had been distracted thinking about his missing groin. His transformation complete, his stumbled back to his bedroom on a pair of high heels, much to the dismay of his sister who wanted to have some more fun with her new doll, and snapped a selfie that he vowed to delete once his jumbo Johnson was back in his pants. 'THERE! NOW GIVE ME MY DICK BACK!'

A minute passed before Richard's phone buzzed with the receipt of new message. He opened the image expecting to see his mighty sword and screamed in terror.

The One and Only Abbey Fabulous

 4/25

Good afternoon, you're through to UltraReal Bodysuits Customer Care, my name is Felicity. How can I help you today?

Yeah, hi, this is Callum Pickering. I would like to extend the rent on the suit I currently have on loan.

Certainly mam, I mean sir, that should be no hassle. Let me just find you on our system. Here... we... go... oh!

Oh?

Yes, well, I can see that you are currently renting our Abbey Fabulous model from our UltraRealLife celebrities range. I am afraid it is a very popular suit and it is fully booked up.

But I'm Abbey Fabulous!

Huh? I thought you said you were Callum Pickering?

I am. But I am also the Fabulous Abbey Fabulous, chat show host extraordinare and bonafide bombshell, and in thirty minutes I have an exclusive interview with the president elect.

Wait. So, the real Fabby Abbey is not actually real. But you in one of our bodysuits?

You're not listening. I need that extension. This is the biggest moment of my career.

But, that would mean people are renting the suit to pretend to be someone wearing a bodysuit...this is blowing my mind.

Yes, yes, it's all very chicken and egg and if you tell anyone, I will sue...now let's get this extension sorted shall we?

I can't. It's booked.

Of course you can. Now chop chop. I'm literally in the studio. The set is behind me. Now make it happen.

I really can't, and sir, I must warn you if you don't remove the suit in the next twenty minutes, it will be presumed stolen and will bind to your body forever. Can't you just do the interview as Callum?

What?! Are you insane?! I can't do it as Callum. Nobody wants to see Callum. Nobody has ever wanted to see Callum. Abbey Fabulous was my ticket to the big-time...to greatness. Without her, I am nothing.

Sir, if you don't return the suit, you will never be without her!

So be it...

Sir?

…

Sir, come back! You realise I need to report the theft to the police, right? Nobody wants Abbey Fabulous to go to jail. Sir? Sir....?

Personal Development

 3/25

This one epitomises my going back to basics approach to some of my captions this time round. I do realise I have habit of overwriting and trying to stuff in too many plot points and forgetting the fun so here's a good old fashioned tg caption trope.

Vance quaked with fear, unable to meet the gaze of the lawyer sitting across the desk from him. Since the takeover of LoanRanger, Alice, the owner's council had gained a reputation for being uncompromising and now it was the company accountant in the firing line.

“You've put us in quite the pickle, Mr. Green,” the stern woman twisted a biro between her fingers. “You've been embezzling money for years, but with the ink barely dry on the takeover, our shareholders will likely go into meltdown if we hand you over to the authorities.” Vance looked up and finally caught her eye, a million electric daggers shot from her glare. “Furthermore, we can't simply put the money back into our accounts because it will show up on the audit and my and indeed, your boss will be dragged over the coals...”

Vance's heart was thudding in his chest. He was sure a 'but' was coming but it was sounding like he might actually get away with this. Whatever was coming surely couldn't be worse than a life behind bars.

Alice put down the pen and placed hers hands palms down on the desk. “I see only one solution, we need to spend the money you stole...” she cleared her throat, “...on you.” Vance blinked in surprise. “You can refuse of course. But we will have no choice to turn you over to the police. I think this solution would be better for everyone, don't you agree? That money can go a long way after all...” Vance nodded nervously.

It turned out a million dollars could go a very long way indeed. It could pay for state-of-the-art breast implants. It could pay for facial reconstruction and extensive hormone treatments. It could even stretch to procedures not available down the regular channels like vocal chord retuning and calf muscle shortening. There was even enough left to buy the new and improved Vance a designer wardrobe of new work clothes. It was just a pity the million didn't quite stretch to a salary.

Vance pulled at his hair in frustration and instantly regretted it. The implanted hair was still sore. He actually missed his old widow's peak. His first week as Alice's new secretary was finally coming to an end and he was exhausted from running around in heels, not that it would help to take them off now that the backs of his feet naturally jutted six inches above his toes. He was sick of being stuffed into his female office garb but he knew if he went home and stripped off, he would have to deal with the reality of his new body underneath. The only remainder from his old existence was his dick, sad and shrivelled from all the hormones he was forced to take. He sighed. Friday did have its perks. At least he could be away from Alice and her constant jibes. She had been reminding him all day to practice his makeup over the weekend. How would he find time when he had to find a second job to replace his banished salary? And what work could he possibly do looking like this in the current economy?!

Vice of the Voiceless - Carl

 2/25

So the Pink n Prissy Collective have four poor guys with frozen vocal chords and only three vials of antidote. What a predicament!? Over this season we will see how each unfortunate boy tries to earn back their right to speak and in a cruel twist there will be a 'choose your own adventure' style vote to pick which sissy has to go that one step further for their release. First up is Carl...

The story so far is of course listed on my index, albeit quite far down.

Carl pulled the crumpled card from his hoody pocket and pretended to study the words he knew by heart. There was a futile hope every time he stared at it, something different would be there. Something less humiliating. Something other than Charlotte's dream sissy. - 'I WANT A MIAMI BARBIE – SUNKISSED, SWEET AND SEXY. BLONDE AND BLISSFULLY PINK – CHARLIE X' - He stuffed the note back in his pocket and pulled the black hood as far as it would go to hide his face. Crowds of customers milled around him in the department store and he was determined to hold onto some male dignity for as long as possible. All the careful preparation – all the plucking, scraping and painting of skin and hair was still covered by the boyish exterior of his hoody and jeans.

It had been five days since Carl had last spoken and he was getting desperate. An initial hope the serum that had frozen his vocal chords would fade after a day or two had now lingered and died along with the idea he might come out of this without having to debase himself to the four college girls that called themselves the Pink n Prissy Collective.

He had managed to get a surprising lot done without alerting anyone to his feminine motivations. The internet had provided purchasing opportunity and instruction for makeup, hair and nail extensions and waxing strips and when he had visited a spray-tanning booth, he hadn't even been the only guy there. Clothes ended up being the roadblock. The sizes were an alien language to him and with time running out before the deadline set by the girls, he couldn't afford to get something that didn't fit and he wouldn't have dared ask for help even if he weren't vocally challenged.

Carl approached the checkout with a pink tennis dress draped over his arm and a pair of strappy wedge sandals clasped between his acrylic tipped fingers. A flash of panic ripped through him as he noticed the girl serving and realised it was his cousin, Becca. He would have to remove his hood to make the purchase and even beneath the layers of glossy cosmetics and synthetic hair, she would surely he recognise him and his humiliation would extend far beyond the evening deadline of dolling himself to get his voice back. Making a on-the-spot decision, he grabbed a tote bag from a rack and dashed for the changing rooms.

In the privacy of the booth, Carl pulled off his jeans and hoody and his mounds of blonde hair flopped over his face. He tugged the pink dress over his smooth body and sighed with relief that he had chosen the right size as he stuffed his own clothes into the tote. Now in his final form – sunbleached skin, pouting pink lips and cute pink outfit- he gathered the bag and half-sprinted half-stumbled on the wedges to the store exit.

“Hey, you! Hey, Miss! Come back here!” He glanced back in horror to see a security guard chasing him from the shop. “Stop thief!” Another gave pursuit and crowds of shoppers stopped to stare. Realising he was surrounded, Carl stopped, wide-eyed with fear and the words 'I can explain' running through his mind over and over. But, of course, he couldn't..

Window Dressing

 1/25

Happy Valentines Day! Here is my gift to you...

Will wasn't sure if it was the sound of the noisy metal shutters rising or the resulting sunshine streaming through the store window that woke him but he knew one thing for sure, they both hurt his head. He rubbed his eyes and tried to shake away the cobwebs as he slowly realised where he was – the shop display window. Recognizing the potential faux-pas of having a hungover employee stumbling around while morning shoppers streamed past, he instinctively stumbled to the partition between the panes of glass and pressed himself out of sight. He looked back into the store and saw Gemma organising the cash register and only when he saw her grinning widely back at him did he begin to recollect the evening previous and his predicament became apparent...

Will and Gemma were 'not-so-star' employees of Fancy Dan's Fancy Dress, a costume shop situated in the centre of town. Amongst other regular shenanigans, the pair had a habit of holding late-night 'lock-ins', where they would invite friends and get wasted in the privacy of the closed store. However, this week, Gemma and Will had found themselves drinking alone.

It had been Will who had kicked off the chain of events that would lead to him waking up in the window display. He had dared Gemma to slip into a particularly scandalous nurse's uniform, but his colleague, preferring to remain in her warm and comfortable jeans and hoody, had refused. Will persisted and continued to nag until, thinking she would shut him up for good, Gemma agreed to put it on if she could also pick out any outfit she liked for Will. To her surprise he had agreed – that's how he ended up in the skimpy milk maid outfit he now found himself in. Of course, this was only after he had made the grave mistake of downing a considerable amount of alcoholic courage.

From his position between the two display windows, Will became reacquainted with his costume. It seemed Gemma had made some enhancements while he had been passed out. His face felt stiff and smelled of cosmetics and a long blonde wig itched his scalp. A tingling seemed to be running up his legs and glancing down, he realised they were now smooth and hairless as if they had been carefully waxed. He ran his finger over the silky skin of his thigh and beneath the hem of his dress until it reached a pair of frilly white panties. He shot Gemma an accusing glare across the store and she winked back triumphantly.

'I have to get out of here before the store gets busy,' Will thought and waiting until there was a quiet moment in the street outside the store, he left the sanctuary of his blindspot and started towards the main shop area. 'Shit!' His manager had just entered through the stockroom and in a panic he whirled back around to face the window before he was spotted. Now standing front and centre in the window, he saw that the street outside was starting to fill up with rush hour crowds. He held his pose rigidly, careful not to alert the hordes of shoppers that he was anything but one of the stores many mannequins. It would be hours before it got quieter and he was already acutely aware of the soreness in his calves from the heels on his feet. 'Great', he sighed silently to the firefighter model next to him. 'Now what?!'

Season 5 Prologue (Wrath of the Mannequeen)

 0/25

Hola!

I am back at last and with 25 new captions plus today's teaser. Thank you for all the kind messages over the past couple of months. They have been an inspiration.

As I said before, I am going to post new caps every two days this time. It will give me time to work on new stories and considering I only have one left to finish for this season, it should allow me to resume posting fairly quickly after this batch is online.

We kick things off with the Mannequeen and her plotting. This story has been going quite a while so the entire saga is on my series index page.

Zoli

The shadows weren't so dark any more. They weren't as deep and didn't grant anything like the anonymity they once had. The mousy yet genius engineer with a penchant for wool-knit sweaters and punishing deserving men with humiliating and sometimes permanent female bodysuits was gone. Now locked inside a voluptuous bodysuit of her own, Hayley no longer had the privilege of keeping her life separate from that of her vigilante alter-ego, the Mannequeen.

Sticking close to the wall inside the subway station, she observed the late evening crowds passing by and tried to block out the eternal thrum of pleasure from the stimulation features built into her bodysuit. With the help of a specially crafted latex catsuit that massaged her pleasure points gently, she was able to bear the constant euphoria and avoid the otherwise inevitable descent into a life as a drooling never-ending orgasm machine, but it didn't help making her any less noticeable.

Three figures in particular caught her eye – a woman and two men. Detective Lara Lake and her companions stopped at the turnstile to the downtown platform and began to make their goodbyes. The Mannequeen glared at her from the shadows. The Detective was a puppet for the copycat known as the Cleaner, but she was a dangerous one. The Cleaner had trapped the Mannequeen in her eternal bimbo prison but Lara had been helping Hayley's nemesis trap her suspicious fellow detectives in their own versions of hell. Undeserving victims – against everything the Mannequeen stood for – even now. Still, there were many types of guilt – guilt by association for one...

The two men were Lara Lake's fiance and her brother. They were finishing shaking hands and the brother was getting ready to leave the couple to their trip home. The Mannequeen smiled. They would be the appetisers to her revenge. She savoured every affectionate glance Lara gave them, knowing that the next time she saw them, they would be looking very different. Detective Lara Lake would first be broken and then she would be punished. The Mannequeen's heart thudded in her chest with the fantasies of how she would ruin this traitorous, scheming she-devil. It would be glorious...triumphant.

The Mannequeen rocked back on her heels as Lara Lake disappeared down the moving stairway. Her mouth was dry but she was wet between her legs from thinking about her delicious revenge, and her scouting complete, she collapsed against the wall and allowed herself to succumb to the ecstasy.