The Kissogram Part 4

 

Joe stood by the bar feeling the true weight of the kind of transformation the best part of a grand could buy. Penny and Deanna had spared no expense getting him ready for the Valentine's Ball. In spite of the fact the addictive red lipstick had fallen in their laps free of charge, they had truly bought into the philosophy of spending big to make it big. The incident with the car seemed long forgotten and they seemed completely fixated on making as much money as possible, only even bringing it up whenever Joe needed a bit of extra motivation to play along.

Firstly, they had taken him to a salon at the mall and somehow the least humiliating part of his day turned out to be standing nude but for a pair of paper briefs while he was sprayed with jets of fake tanning cream. Once it had dried, he was led to a seat where Penny and Deanna were waiting with a pair of excited beauticians. They chattered gleefully as they threaded in hair extensions and applied thick makeup that morphed his features beyond recognition – leaving only his lips bare to be painted red later on. He never heard them mention it being permanent, but regular makeup wasn't supposed to hurt as it was applied, right? When they had finished, he looked more like Malibu Barbie than regular old Joe. The outfit the girls selected didn't help that either – a glittering mini-skirt and matching tube top, chosen after plenty of other outfits had been trialled, of course... When Joe had questioned the large cup size, they brought out their coup de gras – huge breast forms that the salon girls helped blend into his new skin tone. Once in place, they were heavy and made balancing on stilettos extremely difficult. Joe was feeling the weight of his transformation, that was for sure.

The Valentine's Ball was heaving with people – mostly young men all hoping to get some quality time with the guest of honour. As with the fair, a long line formed in front of him next to the bar and guy after guy handed over cash to his sister before pulling the helpless Joe, startled and off-balance from the heavy breastplate, into a long deep kiss. The prices had doubled since the fair and the men wanted their money's worth, yet he still seemed to find the same punters coming back again and again.

“Hey there, Babe!” A tall young man stood at the front of the line. Joe's red-lined mouth dropped open. It wasn't the first punter of the night he had known but this was the captain of the school basketball team – a guy who had taken great pleasure pushing him around over the years. And now here he was, ready to make out with him. Joe felt a familiar fear creep into his stomach as the man looked him deep in the eyes. For a moment, he was sure he recognised him. And then, like the others, he handed Penny the cash and hooked an arm around him to pull him into a tight kiss – with the added bonus of a hand that crept up under his skirt and onto his pantied ass. Joe's eyes shot wide and suddenly he was looking right at the guy. He saw his pupils dilate as he tasted something he clearly enjoyed and Joe was pulled in even closer to the taller boy's body. Something hardened against his hip as a hungry tongue invaded his mouth. And then the man pulled away – still panting like a wolf. “Oh yeah!” He licked some of the transferred lipstick from his bottom lip and grinned, pulling out his wallet. “I'll give you another $200 right now if you take a trip with me to the restroom and transfer some of that lipstick to another part of my body...if you catch my drift!” Before Joe could even flinch, Penny snatched the cash and pushed him into the man's waiting arms.

The Kissogram Part 3

 

Penny and Deanna knew the lipstick was no Golden Goose. With no discernable markings or branding visible, there was no hope of getting any more of the mysterious cosmetic. When it was gone, it would be gone for good, and so, they knew they needed to cash in while they could. Every touch up and reapplication onto Joe's exhausted lips was a step closer to the final gold egg. They knew they needed to go big.

“This time with feeling!” Penny waved her arms like a movie director. “This is going viral...Instagram, tiktok...hell, I will put this on OnlyFemmes if I have to... Whatever gets the punters into Friday's Valentine's club night!” She glared at her brother who stood like a rabbit in the headlights in front of the camera tripod. Joe stared back glumly with what resembled a sullen pout. The threat of reporting his drunken collision with his sister's car still hung above his head like a guillotine. How else would the girls have made him subject himself to another makeover? This time he was a blonde with big floppy lace bunny ears. Deanna had managed to stuff him into an old Halloween costume – a black catsuit in matching lace that squeezed him all over. The material irritated his freshly shaven skins and he kept rubbing himself like a cat in heat. His lips were not red now, of course. The girls didn't dare waste any of the precious lipstick on something like this, but they were a glossy pink that plumped them out as if they had been stung by a bee. “Alright...action!” Penny called out, before adding. “Go get 'em, girl!”

“Hey, you!” Joe muttered, leaning in close to the camera lens. He couldn't believe he was doing this. After practising under the girls' instruction half the afternoon, his voice actually sounded soft and somewhat feminine. There was no audience other than the two girls and yet the performative nature of what he was doing almost made this worse than being kissed by a hundred guys. Almost... He looked up to see Penny making a waving motion with her hand indicating he should keep going. “Yes, you!” He continued his script. “Whether you're lonely, or just looking for something a bit extra, come find me at Friday night's Valentine's ball. I'll be by the bar all night where you can come give me a little kiss – for a small donation of course.” Joe blushed as he heard Deanna make a lude comment under her breath about the kinds of donation he could expect. Not wanting to start from the top, Joe cleared his throat and kept going. “Just one smooch with me and I will make your dreams come true. I will be a hookup you'll never forget and I know you'll come back for more. Come find me on Friday night, I will rock your world.” He finished by pushing out his lips as Penny has showed him.

“And cut!” His sister declared. “That will bring the boys in for sure! And the lipstick with keep them coming! With the money we made from the fair, we can give you a proper transformation that will drive them wild!” Joe visibly shrank at the idea his makeover could somehow get even more extreme. “Deanna, make sure that video is seen by everyone we know!” Penny barked out orders. “Oh, and put it on Joe's school network. Let's see how popular we can make my dear brother amongst his peers!”

The Kissogram Part 2

 

Deanna had eventually calmed down after five glasses of water and ten minutes of Penny shaking her and calling her gross for snogging her feminised brother. Her struggling had made it very clear that Deanna was more than willing to go much further with Joe were Penny not there to snap her out of it. Whatever was in the mysterious red lipstick Deanna had found in her purse was extremely powerful, and in spite of his arousal from being set upon by the hot blonde friend of his older sister, Joe was immediately alert to the fact he should lick his lips at his own peril. Meanwhile, the cogs of revenge in Penny's head began to whir to life as ideas for how to turn this to her advantage began to form. She smiled at a particularly mean one that would not only punish Joe, but also raise the money she need to repair her car.

Penny and Deanna switched gears. The goal was no longer creating the most humiliating version of Joe they could muster – it was to make him presentable. They didn't want people to point and laugh. They wanted them to see a pretty girl. They wanted people to queue with cash in hand to see the hottest version of Joe they could they could muster – their new goal was to make him kissable.

Joe watched in horror as his reflection in his sister's bedroom mirror slowly changed from a silly feminised joke to that of an anime-esque beauty. Deanna had left for an hour and returned with a huge bubblegum pink wig and a garish bejewelled choker that read 'Princess'. The girls had laughed hysterically as they took his transformation to the next level, layering on spades of makeup and dressing him in a sheer black dress with faux-pearl beads. Penny had even brought out a piercing gun she had swiped from a previous job and now he had earrings to match his choker. The final touch had once more been the lipstick but this time Penny had applied it, holding it at arm's length as if it might explode. Nonetheless, she layered it on extra-thick.

It wasn't just that Joe's stall was popular at the Valentine's fair – it may as well have been the only attraction there. Guys were queueing around the block, their wallets clutched excited as they waited for a taste of the intoxicating beauty that Penny and Deanna had dubbed 'Aphrodite'. Two bucks bought five seconds but ten got punters a whole minute of locked lips and most were not sparing their cash. Joe tried to imagine he was somewhere else as man after man grabbed him around the waist and pulled him in close. His mouth was sore and he was sure he had seen some of these guys at least three times now. Some of them were pushing their tongues deep inside his mouth as Deanna stood alongside them with a stopwatch in hand. Those were the ones that seemed to be coming back again and again, as if Joe was a bad habit they just couldn't kick. Whenever the red lipstick became smeared around his face from the kissing Penny would be on hand with a wet-wipe and a reapplication. By the evening, the stall had made almost two grand.

“Well, I did say red was for whores...” Penny smirked at her exhausted brother as she folded the cash into her purse. “I guess that makes me your pimp. But don't worry, Deanna and I have an idea to take this new career of yours to the next level!”

The Kissogram Part 1

 

“Every shade of lipstick means something on a girl...” Penny explained as she rummaged in her makeup bag. “Pink is subtle, but with a bit of gloss it is juicy like a ripe fruit. It means the girl wants to be plucked down from her branch and devoured – though not by everyone. Only those lucky few...” She continued to search for the shade she wanted, clearly starting to get frustrated. Meanwhile, Joe sat wide-eyed and frozen in place – a coat of lipstick away from a completed makeover.

Joe's older sister had always had a twisted vengeful side. It was a bear that really didn't need much prodding. So, when Joe had crashed a motorised scooter into the side of her car two days earlier leaving an enormous hideous scratch, he knew instantly she would seek some kind of revenge. Denying it had been hopeless. The whole thing had been captured on the electronic doorbell camera outside their house. Penny had watched the footage first – a clearly intoxicated Joe with one hand on the handlebars, the other wrapped around a bottle of beer, trying to impress a couple of neighbourhood girls, and the cogs of her mind had started plotting payback instantly. Her options were endless – once she had threatened to show their parents or even the local police, he had been hers to mould.

The makeover was just a placeholder punishment. There would be much more to come even if Penny hadn't decided what it would be yet. Together with her friend Deanna, they had pulled Joe into her bedroom and spent an entire afternoon shaving and grooming him until he was ready to be stuffed into some of Penny's more feminine clothing. The rest of the revenge had been pencilled in as parading him around the town's Valentine's fair but they were still scheming for something better.

“Aarggh...” Penny tossed her makeup bag to the floor in annoyance. “Looks like I don't have any pink. Deanna... “ She turned to her friend. “Throw me your pink!”

“I don't have pink...” Deanna muttered sheepishly. “I have red!” She offered.

“Red is for whores!” Penny declared and then turned to Joe with an evil grin. “Perfect for you! Deanna, your lipstick. You do the honours!” Penny watched her blonde friend gleefully hold her brother's chin firmly as she smeared on a thick layer of red. Once she had finished, she winked and placed a big kiss on Joe's lips in a teasing fashion. Noticing some of the makeup had transferred to her own lips, she instinctively pursed them and paused. A moment of silence passed before she suddenly grabbed the feminised boy by the back of the head and pulled him into a deep kiss. “Whoaa!” Penny yelled. “What the...don't do that!” She dragged her friend off her brother and held her by the shoulders. Deanna's pupils were dramatically dilated in an almost manic fashion. “Hey!” Penny grabbed her friend's hand and lifted it to her face. “What the hell is in this lipstick?!”

double Double

 

“Do you trust me?” Isabella held out her hand. Alec stared into the intensity that was her huge watering eyes and fell in love all over again. When she batted her eyelashes, his heart almost stopped. She was his best friend but he wished with every molecule of his body that she could be so much more. Alas, it could never be... Isabella had been with her boyfriend even longer than she had been friends with Alec. What could he do? Even if he somehow broke them apart, it would almost certainly spell the end of their friendship. And now, what was this about? He was not only being asked to be okay with Isabella and her boyfriend, she was asking him to go along with them on their Valentine's date, and dressed like... “I said, do you trust me?” Isabella interrupted his inner-monologue.

“Of course I do,” Alec stammered. “It's just...this! Really?!” He held out the delicate satin dress in one hand, and the blonde wig in the other. “You're asking me to humiliate myself!”

“I'm asking you to keep an open mind!” Isabella soothed. “I promise you, Alec, this will all make sense. It will all be worth it!” She placed a hand on his cheek and tilted her head forward so he could see the whites of her eyes – batting her eyelashes once more. Alec found his resistance crumbling. He knew she could probably make him do anything and that just ate him up – knowing they could never be together. He was head over heels for her. That made it manipulation, didn't it?

Isabella took her time transforming him – first handing him a pair of silk panties to put on in the bathroom and then wrap a towel around himself to preserve his modesty. Next, she shaved his legs and arms and applied a buttery cream that made his skin super soft and bronzed. Her touch made Alec grateful for the towel covering his now semi-interested manhood. She trimmed his nails and eyebrows and applied subtle makeup that reframed his face completely in a new more feminine light. He had a slight frame and gentle features and it didn't take much to make him look androgynous – the wig pushed him firmly into girlishness. Finally, after what seemed like hours, it was time to dress him. Isabella eased impossibly soft silk stockings up his freshly smooth legs and snapped to tops around his thighs to hold them in place. A bra and the heels came next and Alec looked like something from a pin-up calendar decked out in full make-up, lingerie and heels. He stood awkwardly in the stilettos and Isabella passed the dress over his head and let the soft fabric drop down over his body. He had only moments to adjust to his new appearance when the bell rang. Isabella opened the door to let her boyfriend inside, who was followed by...what the hell?!

“Isabella, babe!” The girl gushed – her jaw dropping open at the sight of Alec sitting sheepishly in his outfit. “You set me up with a trap? And an adorable one at that! Girl, I know we're twins, but I still can't believe you know me this well!” The new girl blushed, clearly smitten with her date already as Isabella stood with her arms folded and a satisfied smile on her face – otherwise they were completely identical.

Double double

 

'You're doing it because you're a little bitch!' Alex's sister's words echoed in his head as he sat in the crowded restaurant on a busy Valentine's Day evening watching the maitre'd guide his sister's boyfriend and her boyfriend's best friend towards the table. He sure felt like a little bitch right now. Isabel sat across from him grinning like a Cheshire cat. She knew she had done a great job transforming him into her sister – using his slight frame and delicate features against him to craft a pretty creature with high cheekbones, plucked arching eyebrows and plump red lips. What his body lacked in the breast department had been skilfully disguised with a satin dress that had a huge ruffled neckline stretching around his arms and chest and plunging down his back. The rest of the gown was short and rode high on his waxed legs and he needed to press his thighs together as Isabel had shown him to avoid flashing his panties, A thick bejewelled choker smartly hid his Adam's apple to ensure her boyfriend's buddy wouldn't suspect a thing – to ensure his date wouldn't suspect a thing. Alex sat up ramrod straight – rigid with nerves, feeling every bit the little bitch Isabel has told him he was.

“You're doing it because you're little bitch!!” Isabel had declared immediately after telling Alex her plan and listening to his weak protests. A week earlier, he had accidentally broken up her relationship with her boyfriend by sending her a prank Valentine's card. The boyfriend found it and suspected Isabel of running around behind his back, breaking off their tryst. Initially, she had demanded Alex come clean, however, she changed her mind when she realised what might happen to her waifish brother at the hands of her bigger, stronger beau. So, she had begged, until eventually the boy had agreed to a Valentine's Day reunion on one condition – Isabel find a partner for his down bad friend, Instantly seeing the opportunity for revenge, she had agreed without hesitation.

Alex had begged until the last, dragging his (high) heels right up to the threshold of their front door. But ultimately, as much as he didn't want to strut around in a mini-dress, he didn't want to get beaten to a pulp even more so. And so, he had gone along with the double date, saying little and smiling sweetly as Isabel and her boyfriend fondled one another beneath the table. The boy he had been paired with didn't seem like a bad guy – he was chivalrous even, opening Alex's napkin and handing him his menu, but he was a guy all the same, and so was Alex. His stomach was so cramped with nerves that he couldn't imagine eating, so when Isabel told the boys they were going to freshen up, relief washed over him. There was still the dilemma of using the women's bathroom but even five minutes away from the table and the boys' leering eyes was something.

“Where do you think you're going?” Isabel chastised him as he started to follow her into the restroom – a cruel smile was etched across her face. “You're due in the men's room right about now. I promised your date a little entrée.” She drank in the horror in his expression. “I suppose I can always tell my boyfriend what you did... He seems pretty fond of me again.” She watched her brother's head drop as he turned slowly towards the other bathroom. “That's a good little bitch!” She patted his rump in the tight dress, pert from walking in the heels. “Bon appetite!”

Hot House Part 4

 23/25

Despite his sissy maid experience being the harbinger of what was to come, Jared left the house relatively shortly after Emi had led her inglorious takeover of his and his male housemates' manhoods. It had only taken a few jolts to his scrotum, a few unsolicited spankings, a few impromptu outfit changes to convince him to cut his losses and beg the the Hot House producers to let him leave. The final straw had been one evening where Emi and one of the other girls had dressed him and Robbie in cheerleader outfits and forced them to make out with each other while the rest of the girls, and millions at home, watched on in glee. The other boys tongue had slid between his plumped glossy lips just as the cages wrapped tightly around their groins buzzed in unison.

Jared had begged for the return of his socials but what could he do? He had signed a contract and legally he didn't have a leg to stand on. The producers laughed in his still cosmetic caked face and had security remove him from the studio with his only source of income in their possession. He had tried to put it behind him but what does a 22-year-old motocross influencer do for money once you take away his social media accounts. Every time he attempted to play it straight he was thwarted by the fact he was now world famous for being a simpering sissy that made out with other sissies while having his cock lit up like a Roman Candle. Hot House was a global sensation and Jared was collateral damage.

Within two months Jared was on the verge of homelessness and Hot House was still reaching peak levels of popularity. He tried one last time to beg for the return of his social media accounts and when the producers refused, he requested to be let back into the house. To his surprise the show runners responded with a counter offer.

The other housemates had been amazed to see Jared return to the Hot House, and they were amazed further still when they saw the saw the price he had paid for it – two huge new breasts that bounced buoyantly on his chest. The girls were quick to put them to use, rubbing oiled up dildos, the latest of Emi's introductions between them, before pushing them into Jared's new collagen filled lips. He became an instant favourite for when the girls selected their toy for the night and trades were frequently made to gain his company. There were now six sissified boys shared between four female housemates and two, sometimes three, of his fellow sissies were exchanged for his nightly services. The biggest effect of his return, however, was on the other boys. Now they were truly broken. For, if Jared was willing to get tits to get back into the house, what chance did they ever have of getting out? They now knew that they were residents of this feminised hell house for the long haul. They were pathetic human sex-toys being played with by a gang of horny girls in the shop window of the world...and there was nothing they could do about it.

The Rebound Part 3

The staff at BabeKraft called them 'blastovers'. It was when one of their girls had undergone a particularly extreme transformation, usually with huge fake tits, or prominent tattoos and the only way to cover them up and meet another customer's preferences was to designate them to equally extreme sets of specs that could hide the old persona. Of course, BabeKraft's usually girls got paid extra for these jobs, but not Tony. The team of engineers were adamant that even though it was his final date, the body that had been given him as part of his night at the BDSM club was not something that could be covered over with a girl of modest appearance. As they were explaining this, his inner voice was screaming once more “So this is permanent?! What have you fuckers done to me?!”

And yet, as he entered the home they had sent him to for his final date, he felt an enormous sense of relief. It was nearly over. It was almost done and he would be able to move on with his life – no more Emma, no more BabeKraft, no more being a bimbo escort or vengeful-ex's plaything.

For this date, his tits and ass had been inflated to bursting point and wrapped in a tiny gold bikini. His previously raven hair had been once again bleached and the tattoos and been extensively and painfully reworked. Once the machine had finished on his appearance, it had applied a sheen of what Tony suspected was baby oil that introduced a gleam to his cartoonish voluptuousness and added the sensation that he was slithering everywhere. That's exactly how he felt as he entered the bedroom of his date's home and saw an enormous man sitting on the end of the bed...with Emma knelt behind him, her arms wrapped around his broad shoulders.

Tony felt a new kind of tightness in his chest. So, this is what she had meant by 'new experiences'? Threesomes with a man mountain and his custom-built design-an-escort? In spite of his ridiculous bimbo caricature of an appearance, he must have been exactly what they ordered as they both smiled hungrily as he entered the room. The man rubbed his hands together and Emma licked her lips as Tony experienced betrayal, fear and a sense of the inevitable all in one incredibly bitter pill.

“Bring her over here!” Emma ordered her partner. “I want first!” The man rose and grabbed Tony by the arm, pulling him down to his knees where Emma now sat on the edge of the bed, her jeans kicked off on the floor. She leaned over and held him by the hair. Surely she would recognise him! His body had been changed beyond belief but his eyes were still the same – eyes that she had gazed into countless times. She stared long and hard – her pupils narrowing inquisitively...until finally a mean smirk cracked her beautiful face and she leant back on to the bed, forcing Tony's face deep into her crotch. He felt the conditioning start to take over as she pulled him deeper and he pushed his pierced tongue between his fat lips to taste her sopping sex. Emma groaned loudly just as Tony was contemplating how his life had hit rock bottom. She tugged him tighter so that he was practically breathing her, just as her date started to unfasten his gold bikini bottoms to expose his machine installed prosthetic pussy and ass. A firm hand pushed his legs apart and something dribbled down his inner thigh while Emma screamed in ecstasy. “I think...” the man chuckled and spanked Tony hard across his round ass, “...that we're going to have to get BabeKraft to lend us this one on the regular!”

 

The Rebound Part 2

Tony had always considered himself a one-woman man. He had been unendingly loyal to Emma and considered her the love of his life – even at the end when the writing had been on the wall and her wandering eye had sought out new experiences. Tony wasn't sure what he was now but he wasn't one-woman anything. Since that first date, he had been in that room three more times as the team at BabeKraft redesigned and reshaped him again and again to meet the requests of new customers. The robotic arms had punctured his skin, inflating his body where it had once been flat, rounding curves that had once been angular, and moulding new prosthetic parts to his face...his hips...his chest...his groin. Tony had protested, of course, screaming and yelling over and over, “This isn't permanent, is it?” as the room's engineers watched from a viewing window while the robot arms sculpted him.

The behavioural changes were even worse. He wasn't sure how it worked. Some kind of hypnotic conditioning made more effective by drugs injected into him in the room, perhaps, but he sure as hell felt the effects of them. The first time hadn't been too bad – he had just felt really timid and blushed a lot, but the second date had turned him into some kind of queen bitch – rendering him helpless to stop yelling insults at the guy and smacking him across the ass. Tony would have felt sorry for the man if he didn't know it was exactly what he had ordered. Still, at least he had managed to avoid having sex with any of them yet.

On the fifth date, that was all about to change. Tony leaned weakly on the partition between the two rooms of the BDSM club. The place was as grand as a mansion with crystal chandeliers though everything had been dressed with black latex and vinyl. BabeKraft had made him into a buxom raven-haired beauty covered in tattoos. The 'is this permanent' alarm bells had rang extra shrilly as the robot arms scoured his body with needles. He had wanted to fight back and run for his life - at least he had until the conditioning started to take hold. He felt his resistance melting away as wilful submission washed through his new body.

“You look exactly like my bitch ex-girlfriend,” his date had declared cruelly as he fixed the leash around Tony's throat. “She never let me do anything like this though.” The man coolly appraised Tony trussed up in leather straps. The irony was not lost on Tony. He had signed up to BabeKraft to recreate Emma, and some woman, or at least he had assumed a woman, had been rebuilt to his desire, and now here he was transformed into another man's mean-spirited revenge fantasy about to be dragged into a sex club. To top it all off, his body was telling him he wanted it. Every tug of the leash, every slap across the ass made him horny in a way he had never felt as a man. “I'm going to fuck you in the middle of that room!” His date pointed at a huge double bed covered in couples in various stages of fornication. “And then...” he squeezed Tony's cheeks between his thumb and forefinger, pushing his plumped up lips into an exaggerated pout, “I'm going to watch as everyone else here has a turn!”

 

The Rebound Part 1

 

Tony stood rigid in front of the glass balcony wall that overlooked the luxury resort below. He was trying to appear relaxed, as if he were casually admiring the view of lagoons and palm trees, but inside his heart was jackhammering as he held one wary eye over his shoulder at the bustling bar, trying to spot his date. Casual? Ha, that was a joke! Looking like this? There was nothing casual about the shimmering white dress that hugged his artificially rendered curves, nor the cosmetically enhanced face his wore masking its own features. And yet, that was only one part of his predicament. The stiletto heels he stood in...the synthetic bleach blonde locks fused into his scalp...even his painfully cinched waist...they were just the props. The true dilemma was the role he was being forced to play.

Emma had broken up with Tony three weeks earlier. It was not an unexpected end to their relationship, yet Tony had taken it incredibly badly. Emma had wanted to date other people and so that was that. Tony's friends had insisted he date other people too. However, Tony didn't want to date other people. He wanted Emma. He had scoured dating apps for women with even half the appeal she had for him and found nothing. He had been about to give up when he came across a new app – one that claimed to be different from the rest and give guys exactly what they wanted – BabeKraft.

BabeKraft promised each of its members their perfect girl. Not by chance mind you – there was no wishing upon a lucky star for the woman of your dreams. On the contrary, BabeKraft invited its members to use its design features to customise exactly what they were looking for in a kind of online studio. They could choose an appearance down to the most minute detail and even request specific behaviours. Tony, of course, signed up and spent hours trying to recreate Emma. Only, when he was finally happy with his efforts and set up the date, the woman that met him just wasn't quite right. Sure, she looked like Emma, and even acted a bit like Emma...but she wasn't Emma. So, Tony tried again...and again...and again... When, at the end of the week, his bill came, he realised in horror that he had spent over seven thousand dollars on the app trying to recreate his ex-girlfriend.

BabeKraft hadn't taken his inability to pay his debts lightly, but they had invited him to their offices to discuss a compromise. The compromise in question had been to work for them. Tony only realised in what capacity once it was far too late. With a contract signed, he had been taken to room full of screens and odd looking medical devices with robotic arms. The walk-in-closet from hell had held him in place as it reshaped and redressed him into an exact replica of a beautiful young woman displayed on a screen along one wall. Only then did Tony understand how BabeKraft met their members' specifications quite so precisely.

The memory of that room haunted Tony as he waited for his date. He had been crafted into the girl of some guy's dreams by some AI robotic monstrosity and now he was...what? An escort? Repaying his debt with this new body of his... If only this one date would be enough... The team at BabeKraft had explained it would take at least six to repay what he owed...

A Date with Destiny Part 3

Julian's heels clacked on the wooden floor of the outer-office of Destiny Engineering to where the full length mirror hung of the wall. The area was where clients and investors were greeted and would wait before being led in to meet with Marcus and the mirror was the frequent recipient of practice pitches and tie-straightening...and now where Julian checked and reapplied his makeup fifteen times a day. He hated the mirror. It was a constant reminder of how he had fallen. Yet, even though he could see his reflection in it from his seat behind the mahogany desk it the reception office, it never ceased to draw him closer like a moth to a flame.

Julian stared into the mirror disbelievingly as he always did, and, as always, a prisoner stared back. His work wear was more professional and less revealing than what he had chosen for his first date with Marcus, but humiliating all the same. A stiff pencil skirt hugged his hips revealing just a hint of a pantyline and the fitted blouse was so uncanny in its similarity to the pressed white shirts he was used to that in its own way it was more feminising that the seamed stockings that encased his legs. As he stood there, the familiar doubt crept in. Could he really continue to pass as a woman? Surely, by parading himself publicly like this, he was asking to get caught and be carted off to jail... Using both hands, he pulled his long blonde into a bun above his head, revealing the shape of his face and the full extent of how the hormones had altered his appearance. He shuddered. This wasn't second thoughts – that had happened immediately after he had told Elena about Marcus's offer. That had been when she had laid out in detail the consequences of what would happen if he didn't take the job. No, his regret could be comfortably counted in the triple figures by now.

“Excuse me, Miss?” A gruff voice with a whiff of an accent sounded behind him. He whirled around to see a small academic-looking man standing in front of his desk. “Is this you?” The man pointed at the nameplate. 'JULIA'. “I'm here for my 10 o'clock with Mr. Grant. He should be expecting me.”

“Ah, Michael!” Marcus entered the room from his private office before Julian could react. “I see you've met Julia, my latest secretary!” The million dollar grin was back as the CEO of Destiny Engineering held out a hand. Julian forced a polite smile and a gave a small feminine nod. As ridiculous as it seemed, he felt betrayed by Marcus. Sure, Julian was the one acting, presenting himself to the world as someone who didn't exist. But so was Marcus – on their date he had felt like he was being hired because Marcus looked at him and saw...something. And now, the walls were back up, and he felt used. “Believe it or not,” Marcus winked at him before turning to their guest. “Julia was actually my Valentine's date...and now she's the eye candy for my company. I guess Destiny really is the right name for it!”  

 

A Date with Destiny Part 2

 

“Hey, I could have sworn I reserved a table... But, a girl who sits at the bar is a girl after my own heart!” A shiver shot up Julian's spine. In twenty minutes of sitting on the stool, his long nylon clad legs folded one over the other, he had kept his head down pretending to read the menu. No-one had spoken to him...no-one had even looked at him, as far as he knew... And now his date was here. Staring at him. Talking to him. Julian felt the little black dress squeeze him, His makeup suddenly weighed a hundred pounds. He gulped softly and his glossy pink bottom lip dropped open. “I am Marcus!” The man grinned. He was slim and expensively dressed and held out a hand for Julian to shake. However, when he reached out to accept the greeting, the man smoothly slid him into a tight hug before kissing Julian on the cheek. “Let me get you a drink!” His date demanded, one hand still resting on Julian's bare back.

“Erm... maybe some wine,” Julian replied softly and shrugged Marcus off. If the man noticed, he didn't show it and his beaming smile remained in place. “Red...please...” He watched the man snap his fingers at the barmaid and produce an American Express card in the other hand. It was clear he wanted Julian to see it and he got a flash of deja-vu. It was exactly the kind of trick Julian himself would have used to impress a woman in a bar...back when he wasn't yet a woman.

“But, of course,” Marcus winked and ordered an expensive bottle with two glasses. After instructing a waiter to bring it to a table in the restaurant window, he held out Julian's chair for him sit and once again draped a hand across his exposed shoulders for just a little too long. “I usually hate Valentine's Day, you know? I think its corny crap. But this one... I don't know... I have a good feeling about it... I have a good feeling about you.” Julian's skins crawled but he felt himself blush all the same. Was this guy really so smitten with him? Or had he just played the game so many times it was like a reflex, regardless of what the girl looked like. Marcus placed his iPhone and a Porsche keyfob down on the table and proceeded to ask him question after question about himself...or rather about Julia, interjecting with factoids here and there that were clearly designed to impress. Julian attempted to act demurely and stick to half-truths – he was living with his sister, he really needed a job but was not sure what he was looking for, he was single...why did he say that...? Marcus, it turned out, was also single, and the CEO and founder of a tech startup called Destiny Engineering. Julian was surprised to find that the more Marcus spoke, the more the slick facade he had put up seemed to slip away. He stopped trying to impress and stared at Julian intently as he spoke about needing a job to pay for his share of Elena's rent. Was this guy really falling for him? He struggled to believe he was actually passing as Julia, let alone melting the game of a rich guy in a bar. “Hey, you should come work for me!” Marcus blurted out suddenly. “Don't worry about an interview, or a resume, or any of that crap. You can work for me personally...be my PA.”

“Work for you?” Julian repeated dumbly. His heart was thudding again, and now he was sweating – perspiration trickling down his back and into the satin of his panties. His head sloshed with the wine and he felt an odd mix of triumph and terror. Elena had made it very clear. It was get a job, or go to jail. But, work for this guy? Who against all the odds seemed to fancy him... What if he tried to pull a move on him? But what choice did he have? “Sure...,” Julian stammered, “when do I start?”

A Date with Destiny Part 1

“Are you really certain all this is necessary?” Julian regretted the words the moment they left his lips. Not just because he already knew the answer, but because of the gentle feminine inflection that shaped them. His soft tone had become warm and natural. The initial soreness from the injections to his vocal chords had faded and all that remained was the singsong chirp of a young woman. Julian hated it with a passion.

“Asked and answered, dear brother,” Elena replied shaking her head. “That's the kind of thing you lawyer types say, isn't it? At least it was before you were disgraced and disbarred.” She took a step back to appraise his outfit. She had insisted he be the one to complete his transformation today. That had included choosing at outfit, dressing himself, and of course all the primping that went with it. She had watched on like a proud mother hen as he had shaved and waxed and spent ninety minutes doing his own makeup. Sure he whined and dragged his heels the whole way, but that only added to her enjoyment, and now that he was almost ready, she could fully appreciate the ways in which the hormone supplements helped him fill out the dress, and how now his hair had fully grown out, he could achieve the look of a glamorous blonde without the need of a wig.

“I mean, why can't I just hide out here? As myself?” God, he hated how alien his voice sounded. He tried to add some coarseness but it just ended up coming out smoky and sexy. “No-one is going to look for me here!” He gestured to himself and realised for the first time how short his dress was. Blushing, he took the hem in his fists and tried to tug it down – only succeeding in forming a prissy pout.

“And then what?” Elena yawned. “You sponge off me forever? You realise you owe me right? Without me you would be in jail. You should be in jail. And you know what else? Your stupid law firm that you embezzled funds from – has my last name on it too. I am training to be a legal aide and you just made me unemployable. Maybe I should hand you in... Remove all doubt I was complicit somehow!”

“Sis...” Julian cooed, suddenly playing his role with a lot more enthusiasm. He smoothed his dress with his palms and flicked his hair behind one shoulder. It crushed him to do so but not as much as the prospect of staring down 46 counts of fraud. “But how can I possibly pay you back looking like this? No-one is going to believe I am a woman. I know you are getting a kick out of the punchline, but you've still turned me into a joke!”

“That's where you are wrong, dear brother,” Elena smiled. “You may not believe this now, but I have turned you into something extraordinary. Today, after all, is Valentine's Day and I have lined you up with a hot date. I am going to show you just how beautiful you are now, and if you can impress a horny guy in a bar, an interview panel isn't going to stand a chance...”

 

Hot House Part 3

 22/25

As the previous years' winner, Chris was secretly invited to be a surprise new housemate who would enter the Hot House six weeks into the new season. Of course, when he agreed and penned the contract to once again hand over his now lucrative social media accounts to the show runners in order to once again enter the house, he did so months before Emi led the now infamous sissy revolution. Within hours of the boys waking up with their cocks in electrified chastity cages, Chris's agent was calling the show attempting to get his inclusion reversed. But what could he do? A deal was a deal and if he wanted to keep his socials, he would need to fulfil his contract.

That's how Chris found himself in the house's welcome pod – an area that resembled a decompression chamber in a submarine. Chris had entered the pod from one side and the door had slid shut behind him. The next time the pod opened, he would be the newest guest on the Hot House.

Being on the outside for the first six-weeks, he knew several things that the other housemates did not. He knew that for the first two weeks the show had been on its knees. Dull guys and girls did not make for compelling television and the viewers were turning off in droves. It was only when Emi put Jared in a maid's uniform she had for some reason brought with her into the house that their was a spike in viewership. And so when Emi came to the interview room that evening and asked for the chastity cages, the producers were falling over themselves to provide. What the viewers also didn't know was that from that moment, the producers were giving Emi whatever Emi requested in the name of driving up ratings. They had already smuggled in numerous sex toys that the girls were just biding their time to put to use – and the house food was now being pumped with hormones to further feminise the unsuspecting boys. Jared had had the right idea when he elected to leave the house after 3 weeks of sissydom. That left one spare chastity cage, and as the door to the house started to slide open he prayed it wouldn't be used on him. Surely a former winner had earned more respect.

A week had passed and Chris could only shudder at his naivety of thinking he might be spared. Satin hugged his body and extensions tugged at his hair and most tellingly the charge of his cage thrummed in his lacy panties alongside a matching buttplug – the most recent introduction from Emi, Hot House's resident dom. The girls has swarmed him the second the door opened – strong hands holding him down as his male clothing was torn to shreds. The other boys had just watched on meekly – if they were sympathetic to his powerlessness they didn't show it. None of the boys spoke now. They were completely broken. They just tottered around the house on their high heels hoping that one of the girls wouldn't grab them to try out a new look or give them a random spanking. They were just waiting and hoping that their followers would fall below the threshold to allow their escape. Chris couldn't bring himself to tell them that their subscribers had soared 500% since Emi's revolution.

Whatever Happened to Martin? (Work Release)

 This will be my last Flashback Friday for a few weeks until i am caught on my commission backlog. It is for Work Release

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

Oh, God. I don't believe it. I'm through. I actually did it... All these years of playing the good little employee have actually paid off. It will all be worth it.

Slow down, Speedie, how can I help you today?

Yes, well, my name is Martin, and you probably don't remember me but I am calling from Bedfellows Escorts and I would like to report a gross misuse of your bodysuits.

I am sorry sir, but I can only speak with the named person on that corporate account and that is...

Sam Sparrows! I know! That evil bitch has been keeping us as her whores for years!

Excuse me?

She hired a bunch of your suits to put the guys at our company through supposed sensitivity training, but it was all a ruse!

A ruse?

Yes, there was no training. Not in sensitivity anyway. She turned us into the company's newest escorts. And the bodysuits...oh God...they made us want it!

Ah, yes, the Ladies of the Night range! They are some of our finest...

Don't you think I know? The extra libido alone has made me do things that will never wash off. But no more. Over the past couple of years I have been sucking up to Sam Sparrows and as of yesterday I am her new personal assistant...with full access to the company accounts and records.

I really am sorry sir, but I can only speak with Ms. Sparrows herself.

Would it help if I had the account number? I'm at the bitch's desk right now.

Well, yes...but...

It's 67983538X

Okay...I am pulling it up now...oh wow!

Yes, 'oh wow'. I am sure now you can see the scale of what that perverted bitch has been doing. There are hundreds of us. All humiliating ourselves for her profit. Even now that I am behind a desk again, she still treats me like a slut. You have to release us from the suits and call the police right now!

No, I mean 'oh wow' as in this account is worth 26 million a year. That's one of our biggest. My stock options... This would decimate them...

What?!

Sir, I think this connection is breaking up.

But, I can hear you just fine.

No, it's....def....break...up...bad...tion

Ms? Ms? Felicity, wasn't it? Are you still there? Please help us!!

I, Maidbot Part 4

 

Immobilisation gives one a lot of time to think, and boy, did Robbie think. In the dark of the back of the truck surrounded by the other defective AutoMaids, as he was wheeled into the warehouse and inventoried by some dweeb with a mullet, and as he was plugged into a laptop via the same port he loaded in all his fantasy scripts two days earlier in his garage. In his infinite stillness, he worried about what would happen to his consciousness if his new maid body was sent for scrap, he pondered whether Bot-Robbie would make a better husband than he had, or if he too would reach his tolerance of Marie and come up with some hair brained scheme to replace her. Was there any of the real-Robbie person still in the real-Robbie body? He considered what he would do if he was placed with another customer and expected to clean house. Could they load software that would make him do that? But most of all, he thought about sex. His body was still but his robotic loins were restless. He needed relief from the inhuman cravings that were consuming his paralysed form. He didn't care if he stayed an AutoMaid forever – he just needed a release.

“This one is totally fucked!!” The technician at the laptop shook his head to no-one in particular. “Operating system is completely gone and there is so much rogue code in there I don't even know where to start unpicking it.”

“Hmmm...” A colleague joined him and pondered what was on the screen. “Looks like a lot of sex scripts and kink programming. My guess is there was a mix up at the factory. We got a sex-doll and some poor sap with a hard-on for droid-women got a bot more interested in turning up his bedsheets than taking a tumble in them. Let's ship this one back to the factory. They'll know where it needs to go...”

And that's how, two weeks later, Robbie found himself being sold for a cut price as a refurbished sex-doll. It didn't matter how much he tried to explain the mix-up, his new owner didn't even speak English. Robbie didn't even know what country he was in – he just knew that he had spent a long time immobilised inside a crate. His new owner, a grubby fat man, was not phased by his new toy's protests. For the deal he got, he was more than happy to use the immobiliser to good effect whenever it got annoying. Having been resold as an “AutoCompanion”, Robbie has introduced to a wardrobe that extended far beyond the French Maid outfit he had barely got used to. He was dressed in a selection of fetish and fantasy outfits including as a cheerleader and a female gimp and positioned as a risqué piece of furniture during the day, but at night the man preferred to strip him down to a pair of crotchless panties and heels and position him on the bed ready to be fucked. It was only then would Robbie be unfrozen. Primed and ready to be screwed silly with his ass propped up on a pillow, he knew now was his chance – to run, to escape, to somehow get home and expose Bot-Robbie as the imposter he was. But, oh...fuck!! He needed that release...

I, Maidbot Part 3

Being terrified and hornier that he had ever been in his life was a bizarre experience. The AutoMaid company sent a truck to collect him immediately after Marie screamed down the phone for ten minutes at a helpless customer service agent while Bot-Robbie soothingly rubbed her shoulders and shook his head in exaggerated dismay. Robbie knew he should run – there was no way being carted back to the AutoMaid factory could lead to anything good – but before he could, he saw Bot-Robbie handing Marie the immobilizer that had been with the kit in the garage and suddenly he was frozen in place.

His consciousness remained, hence the terror/sex-cravings cocktail, yet he could not movea single piston to run, protest his predicament or simply relieve the warm itch that had spread across his entire body. He just stood there frozen as Bot-Robbie brushed Marie's hair gently. The AutoMaid truck arrived along with the indignity of having one of their correctly functioning maid droids help package up his prone form for shipping while Bot-Robbie diligently supplied the driver with all the paperwork and accessories from the garage. The delivery maid tied his arms behind his back firmly as the driver explained it was to stop them flailing around during shipping, and this only drove Robbie more wild. The French maid before him was acting out one of the fantasies he had purchased the AutoMaid for and this one hadn't even been reprogrammed. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and when they returned to staring straight ahead, the AutoMaid was glaring at him – her arms folded. Did she know? Could she somehow sense her colleague in front of her had been infiltrated.

Robbie thought he saw the hint of a smile. But, that was impossible wasn't it? And then the driver and maid were working together strapping him to a trolley and wheeling him from the house while Bot-Robbie held open doors for them.

“What will happen to it?” Marie asked thoughtfully, tentatively stroking Robbie's synthetic skin. Her simple touch sent lightning bolts through his body and he screamed silently. It seems a shame to just scrap it!”

“It depends...” The driver sighed. “The eggheads at the factory will run diagnostics on it and figure out what is wrong with it. Then it will either be dismantled for spare parts or resold as a refurbished unit. This one looks physically fine, so most likely they will refresh its compliance software and find it a new home. I am sorry it didn't work out for you.” He tipped his hat and started to push the tied Robbie towards the ramp into the back of the truck.

“Wait!” It was Bot-Robbie, one arm raised uttering the first words since they had switched consciousnesses. Robbie's heart soared as it strode purposefully towards the truck. “Don't forget this!” It produced a feather duster that had been left on the living room floor and tucked it into Robbie's apron. Then it stepped back and gave a quick salute. “Bon voyage!”     

 

I, Maidbot Part 2

 

Robbie had to think quickly on his feet – feet that were now perched on a pair of six-inch heels. Whilst wearing his own skin, he had promised Marie he would return the AutoMaid to the store, so now that his consciousness had somehow been transferred into the sexy robot, he needed to give her reason not to make good on that promise on his behalf – at least until he found some way of getting his mind in his own body. That meant that he had to fulfil the intended usefulness of the product he had purchased. Robbie had never cooked and cleaned before but now he was doing so like his life depended on it – because it probably did.

So, while Marie barked instructions at him like he was an imbecile, he plundered through his tasks. With every awkward movement, the satin of his uniform and the soft silk of his stocking swished against the artificial sensors that acted like nerve endings beneath his ultra-realistic but synthetic skin and an odd sensation began to grow inside him. He had already cursed himself for deleting the maid's abilities to perform chores as he fumbled awkwardly with the mop, but now he was being reminded of what he replaced them with? Was he becoming aroused? Was that even possible? His mind was flooded with a million different ideas for achieving climax – for helping others climax – hell, he was staring at his wife while she shouted at him for using the wrong fabric cleaner on the sofa and all he could think of was the perfect way to make her cum her brains out. Why couldn't he have had that knowledge five years ago? If he had, it would never have come to this... As much as he wanted to try anyway, he knew there was no way Marie would go for kinky lesbian sex with a robotic French maid who had just permanently stained her couch.

To make things worse, Robbie's body was back up and running too and had left the garage, presumably with the AutoMaid's version of a consciousness pulling the levers. Bot-Robbie didn't talk yet he operated himself with graceful precision, performing tasks such as making Marie a drink at exactly the right moment or placing a hand on her shoulder as she was becoming overwhelmed with rage at their pathetic new maid. Hours later, Robbie heard the unmistakeable squeak of mattress springs followed by cries of ecstasy from upstairs as Bot-Robbie ripped sounds out of his wife real-Robbie had never managed in years of marriage. He followed the exaltations to the bedroom to find Marie on her back with one of her shoes still on as Bot-Robbie jackhammered away at her like a man possessed – as in a way he was.

Robbie's arousal peaked despite the betrayal of seeing his wife cuckold him with his own sexbot cosplaying with his own body. He slipped a delicate feminine hand up under his apron as he continued to watch, seeking out the robotic pussy he had promised himself – albeit not like this. Finding it, he closed his eyes.

“Good fucking gracious!!” He heard Marie scream in fright. “How did that thing get in here?! Okay, that's enough. I am calling the company myself. It's going back right now!”

I, Maidbot Part 1

 

Robbie was used to disappointing his wife, though he seldom did it on purpose – such was the case when he brought home the AutoMaid 3000. It's true that the ultra-realistic female robot was a state-of-the-art piece of kit whose designers promised would revolutionise household chores once and for all, and a fully functional AutoMaid would have done just that for Robbie and Marie's home. At least it would have had Robbie not taken it round to one of his tech friends on the way home from the store to have its operating system wiped out.

Robbie had disappointed Marie one too many times and the marital bed had become dormant. He had considered cheating, but he just didn't have that much game. So, upon seeing a commercial for the super hot AutoMaid 3000 for the first time, he instantly turned to the internet to do some research. Being that it was originally created as a generic multi-purpose robot, it had capabilities far beyond housekeeping and even had fully functioning and realistic breasts and sex-organs. Apparently, the creators had at one point seen the droid as a potential way to sanitise the sex industry, or at least provide companionship to a generation of lonely men.

That's where Robbie's friend came in. By removing the housemaid operating system, he freed up the robot's mind to be loaded with any program he desired. There were entire online communities devoted to sharing apps that taught the AutoMaid to learn all sorts of perverted skills. There was even a plug-in what could sync with the owner and learn all their desires and preferences in a matter of minutes to become the perfect lover. All it needed was an extra bit of black market tech – something that Robbie spared no expense on.

Marie's appraisal of the AutoMaid 3000 was swift and derisive. It couldn't cook. It couldn't clean. It couldn't even load the dishwasher. Robbie was more than happy to take it to the garage and organise a return in the morning. Once out of sight of his wife, he got to work loading all the seedy scripts via a bluetooth connection with his phone. As program after program went into corrupting the maid's brain, he grew excited. He gazed over his new purchase. It really was indistinguishable from a real, and very beautiful, woman. Finally, satisfied he had loaded all the abilities and features he wanted into his new sex-bot, Robbie prepared the plug-in to sync the maid with his preferences. He attached the headset to himself and plugged the other end into the maid before realising with frustration that there wasn't an outlet in the garage. With another stroke of genius, he wired the power source to the garage-door battery and prepared for the sync to start. There was a flash as long white sparks -shot from the battery and then everything went black.

Sometime later, a groggy Robbie was stumbling back to the house. His entire body felt stiff and weird like he had never used it before. He entered through the back door to find his wife standing there. “So you do know where the kitchen is then?” She spoke as if addressed a child. Robbie raised his hands to his head. Why did she sound so loud? He cringed at the intensity in her voice and turned away defensively to where a mirror hung above the dining table. The AutoMaid 3000 stared back – an expression of fear and confusion etched across her face.

Hot House Part 2

 21/25

They came at night, storming the boys' dormitory of Hot House like commandos in the dark, and by the time the five male contestants knew what had happened, it was already too late. Any of the show's millions of viewers who tuned in to watch the early morning programming were treated to confusion slowly and groggily morphing into sheer terror as groans of WTF were quickly replaced by shrieks cascading from bed to bed. Each boy awoke to find themselves completely naked under their covers and upon pealing back their duvets, they stared on in horror at the tiny metal devices that had been attached to their genitals. Padlocked cages squeezed their throbbing cocks, preventing their morning wood while long flat wires wrapped around the rest of their genitalia – tightly secured with a padlock at the backs of their scrotums. One by one, the boys screamed and tugged at the mini-prisons – and one by one they realised the true helplessness of their predicament as small but painful electric shocks shots from the devices into their groins.

Hot House changed dramatically from that morning on – both as a house and as a show. The four remaining girls quickly revealed themselves as the culprits and as the new dominant presence in the house. The boys' pleas fell on deaf ears and the girls moved rapidly to assert their new order. All male clothing had been removed from the house in the same night and each boy was thrown a pair of frilled satin panties as pathetic modesty. It only got worse as the girls bathed and groomed them, removing all their body hair and applying treatments and lotions. Shocks were dealt out liberally to maintain strict compliance and by the end of the second day, each boy was a broken simpering shadow of their former selves – willing to do anything to avoid another jolt in the testicles.

The challenges would change too and it was on day 5 of the new way of things that Robbie and Jay found themselves engaged unwillingly in a staring contest – each of the boys clad in humiliating latex lingerie with a chain attached to a choker around each of their throats holding them in place. Neither could bring themselves to meet the other's eye for it would bear a stark reminder of their own degradation.

“You know this is all Emi, right?” Robbie hissed. “None of those other girls would say boo to a ghost before she got a taste for blood when Jared lost that challenge. I bet she's some kind of freak on OnlyFemmes or something.”

“I think...” Jay stammered, “I think at least this will be over soon. Our followers must be leaving in droves... No-one would want to follow someone who does...this...” He finally raised his gaze to meet Robbie's painted face. “Right!?”