What If...Femnonymous Ran Society?

 It's been five years since my last Femnonymous cap. Time for a comeback?

Ada looked up from her desk at her next parolee waiting on a foldable chair near the entrance to her office. Predictably, he was fidgeting with the chain that ran from the leather harness around his waist to the six inch heels on his feet, simultaneously locking both outfit and footwear securely in place. The parole officer rolled her eyes. It was the heels, she knew, it always was. In spite of everything these men had been subjected to since the new Femnonymous government had instituted Ammendment F, it was the shoes that drove them over the edge. It was as though if they could somehow remove them, the rest of their ordeal could somehow be reversed.

“Next,” Ada coughed and opened the file on her desk, watching her subject as he rose unsteadily and shuffled over. Standing removed the slack from the chain connecting his ankles and he had little choice but to half-hobble half-wiggle his new body over to her. “Please sit,” she beckoned and smiled thinly as he failed to meet her gaze. “It says here that as Gary Pines, you were convicted of gross disturbance of physical and phycological female dignity and sentenced in Houston, Texas under federal jurisdiction of Amendment F for immediate rehabilitation. Your identity has been reassigned to that of one equivalent to the victim...your victim, and you have been subsequently referred to me, your state parole officer, for monitoring of your progress. Correct so far?” The man formerly known as Gary gave a tiny nod, just enough to send his newly grown out hair cascading over his hormone softened cheeks. “There's just a few administrative details to iron out before we discuss the conditions of your parole. According to my file, before your reassignment, you had a four and half inch penis,” she paused to smirk at the blushing prisoner. “What is missing however, is the new length post-transformation...” She held her pen ready but the man muttered something inaudible. “I didn't catch that...”

“They took it all!” Gary raised his head in wild yell, his frantic eyes bulging beneath false eyelashes. “The bastards took the whole thing! Give me fake tits and pumping me full of all this shit wasn't enough for them. Was it?! They had to take my dick!” His pink lips trembled with rage.

“Ah! That would explain it!” Ada spoke delicately. “Well, if it's any consolation, the dosage of hormones you are currently on would have rendered it almost useless anyway. Not to mention tiny. Well, tinier...” It didn't seem to be much of a consolation.

“This is bullshit!” Gary was crying and panting. “One grope. Just one grope! It was nothing! Just a squeeze of the ass, and what... I get all this...” he gestured at his new body. “How is that fair?”

“Well...” Ada sighed like she had heard the rant a thousand times. “That is just how things are now. Zero tolerance. It may have just been a grope to you, but that grope could have ruined a life.” She looked at her parolee sternly. “It's a new world out there. And those who don't adapt will be adapted to fit it.”

What if...the Artist Revived the Network?

 What if Wednesday again and this time we have a story that combines my Artist and Network series. This cap is not canon to either but both are fully listed on my index page. Hope you enjoy...

zoli

“Hello and welcome to another edition of 'Parting Gift' – the gameshow that makes sure couples walk away from their ending relationship with so much more than a broken heart!” The Artist was revelling in the applause from the studio audience. Back when he was simply Martin...back before he had invented the genetic rewriting device that would change his life and those of so many others, this would have been his worst nightmare, but now in his new life as owner and host of the Network and all its shows he was living the dream. Of course it helped that he had used his invention to transform himself back into the Bianca Beauchamp doppelganger that had got him in so much trouble in the first place, but he was so glad he had decided to abandon his plots of revenge and put his money and skills into something else – like reviving the corpse of a cult television network specialising in transformation based gameshows.

As the show progressed Martin took delight in strutting around in his voluptuous latex clad body for the approval of the audience while the latest contestants answered questions to increase their prize fund. The rules were simple – a newly broken up and often quite vindictive couple completed a series of challenges in order to accumulate money for their kitty. The better the pair were able to work together, the more cash they would earn by the end of the show. This is when things would get interesting. Whichever new singleton earned the most for the prize fund would be given freedom to take as much of it home as they wanted. However, their former partner could then choose whether they wanted to take the rest...or send their ex for a trip in the Artist's genetic rewriting device.

Martin took great pride in a show that changed lives – literally. He could hardly contain himself at how the latest episode was progressing and he wondered if the crowd could tell the rubber-clothed host was becoming aroused before their eyes. Tony may have been two timing his wife but today he was answering questions and completing tasks with laser focus and the recent divorcees had made almost $100k. Having vetted the contestants personally, the Artist new exactly how much they were hoping to win and what how wanted to spend it and so when Tony surged ahead of Kate in the personal scores there was only one way it was going to end. The humiliated ex-wife was never going to take $5k over the chance to get the ultimate vengeance over her unfaithful spouse.

The prize reveals were always his favorite part of the show. The audience got to see how both contestants had spent their winnings simultaneously and today was set to be spectacular. There was a hush of excitement as the big screen cut to where Tony, fresh out of the transformation pod was awarded his prize. The crowd gasped as his latex clad knees went weak though not from the presence of the Dodge Viper in front of him and silently Martin gave kudos to Kate for matching her ex's hair with the paint job. There were giggles as everyone watched the 'winner' totter around in his new body, hands examining every gleaming curve with disbelief as the car went ignored. The Artist smiled – it would need to be sold to pay for the divorce anyway and there was only one way a bimbo like that was going to make a living. Before long, both contestant and prize would be being ridden by other men. Yes...this was so much better that revenge...

What if...Aiko was the Mannequeen?

So, no Flashback Friday, but what about a What If Wednesday? If Marvel can do it so can I...I think - not totally sure on the copyright... Anyway, hope you like and obviously this isn't canon...

zoli

“Wakey, wakey, sleepy head! Rise and shine!!”

Andy blinked awake and his eyes darted to the tiny Asian girl sitting across the room behind what looked like an elaborate tea party complete with brightly coloured cupcakes and other sweet treats. Confused, he sat up and became instantly aware of the extra weight jiggling on his chest. A pair of large round breasts bounced inside a frilly aproned dress and parted two thick braids of hair that seemed to be hanging from his head. His lips opened in horror and he rose from his seat, almost tripping on the heels housing his stockinged feet.

“What the hell have you done to me?” He fought to repress a scream. Even still, the curves of his new body quivered with fear and rage and the hem of his short skirt rocked on his ample hips as he tried to balance. With every movement of his soft feminine skin, an electricity rippled through him – an itch, a craving...a need!! The girl in front of him remained demurely silent and and memories flashed through his head. Just fractures – meeting a girl on the subway, her saying she was from Japan, offering him a donut, then...nothing... But that donut, those flavors...out of this world. In his jumbled thoughts one thing became clear. That donut was the source of the fiery urges racing through this alien body he found himself occupying.

“Calm down, Sugar!” The girl adjusted her pleated skirt and smiled sweetly. “I haven't done anything to you. It is just a bodysuit. Though a totally adorable one if I do say so myself. I can absolutely remove it for you...” She watched Andy's heaving chest slow with relief, “...as long as you don't make me mad.” She wrinkled her nose in mock anger as Andy's eyes went wide. “That donut I gave you on the subway didn't just contain some pretty potent sleep serum but it was also topped with sprinkles of my delicious and completely irresistible candy.” She stopped to watch the boy's knees knocking together giddily – the bows on the garters shaking in unison. “I see you can already feel HOW irresistible. But...” she waved her finger as if she was addressing a small child, “you're going to have to be a big girl and control yourself. Every treat in this room contains those same sprinkles but this is for my tea party and so you absolutely mustn't touch. Otherwise, I will be very upset. And if you make me upset, I will activate the lock and the bodysuit will stick to your skin forever. You'll be a good little girl for Aiko, right?”

Andy stared in disbelief at the girl smiling maniacally at him and then around the room and all the confectionery it housed. His whole body was trembling and raging with desire. His hypersensitive skin could feel every stitch of the panties squeezing his ass even through the bodysuit and he struggled to arrange his thoughts coherently. He was rapidly becoming a slobbering needful mess and the girl in front of him was quietly enjoying the whole prissy show. He needed to scratch the itch and the world felt dreamlike as he picked up a tray of donuts and held one up to his face. The hole framed his captor looking back with glee, knowing Andy was helpless but to push it into his cute little mouth...