Liquorice (a Liza story)

 All my Aiko and Liza stories are on my index page in order

“Can I go do the back yard now?” Glenn whispered. “Somewhere less people can see?” His concern was apparent – it was garage sale season and dozens of would be bargain hunters were passing by his position trimming the hedge. The manly nature of his task, contrasted perfectly with the vintage polka-dot dress he had been made to put on, not to mention the velvet lined high-heels and thick face of make up.

“Don't be silly!” Liza giggled. “There are no hedges in the back yard. You should know, we sat out there drinking lemonade enough times back when we were going out. You would know if you ever paid attention. If you had paid attention to me, we would probably still be going out rather than me watching you do yard work in laced panties!” She laughed as the boy blushed and then double-downed on her amusement as she noticed her Step-Dad watching them through the window in his French maid's uniform – feather duster in hand “Things would be different for a lot of people if they paid attention to me...”

“How could anyone not...” spoke a crisp masculine voice from behind her. Liza whirled around in surprise to come face to face with a boy about her age, ruggedly handsome with a stylish stubble and leather biker jacket. “I hate to be the one to tell you this, but your Mom is never going to win any beauty contests.”

“Huh? No!” Liza stammered, scrambling for her words as Glenn rolled his eyes from beneath his blonde wig. He felt weirdly offended at the insinuation he made for an ugly woman. “I mean, that's not my Mom. That's my...erm...ex-boyfriend.” She smiled, finally regaining her composure. “And I don't know about the beauty contests...you should meet his stylist!”

“Right!” The boy grinned broadly, holding her eyes like a magnet. “I'm Jay,” he stuck out a hand, “and you're Liza. I have seen you around,” he explained,”I have seen you with that Japanese girl who wears way too many ribbons. So, tell me, how come dear Mommy here is your ex? He keep stealing your shoes?”

“No,” Liza giggled a little too hard, “it wasn't that. Glenn was always a little too vanilla for me. I like my boys a bit darker...” she eyed the black leather of Jay's jacket. “I like more of an acquired taste. I like liquorice!” The boy gave a toothy smile and Liza matched it as if some invisible message had passed between them. Eventually, Jay broke their connection and glanced at the bag of candies sat on the end of the hedge that had been keeping Glenn motivated in his yard work. Liza followed his eyes and hurriedly snatched up the bag of sweets. “No,” she shook her head as she stuffed them in a pocket. “Those aren't for you.”

Whatever Happened to Trever? (Freebee)

This continues my overlapped Network/Femnonymous story, both of which are in full on my index page. It is a Flashback Friday of my caption Freebee

“Remember,” Madison hissed to her cameraman and sole companion as he finished setting up his equipment. “Try not to stare!” Bryan nodded, thinking he could always hide behind the viewfinder if there was any risk. That idea immediately vanished as he saw their interviewee waddling across the pool area towards them. The woman had enormous breasts floating unnaturally in a barely-there black bikini top and string bottoms that clung around cartoonishly exaggerated hips. Bryan's eyes flitted to the front of the swimsuit that was ominously smooth. This bimbo used to be a guy?! He stared aghast.

“Sorry...” He muttered as Madison introduced them. They were Frontline Entertainment Media, a web exclusive entertainment news channel that covered everything from the latest celebrity scandals to up and coming new shows. In this case it was both.

“Hi there, Tiff!” Madison held out her hand warmly, a microphone baring the insignia 'FEM' in the other. “We're so glad you agreed to have a quick chat with us! As a former employee of the Network and a...errr...victim of Femnonymous's campaign of terror, the news that the Network plans to relaunch by airing the fabled lost tapes of Femnonymous's version of the Network's own show, 'The Apprentits', must have come as a shock to you?” The woman formerly known as Trevor stared back dumbly – a pair of fat pink lips pursed in a silent pout.

“You used to work in recruitment for the Network,” Bryan prompted. “But the contestants on the lost tapes weren't recruited - they were kidnapped. Do you have any thoughts on that?” The woman's blank look remained but she slowly turned one of her platform heels inwards and cupped her hands under her breasts provocatively. “What's wrong with her?” Bryan whispered to Madison.

“I read that Femnonymous did some kind of behaviour modification on her. Apparently ramped up her sex drive to 11 and fried her decision making.” Madison replied. “It's probably how she ended up working here...”

“Hey Tiff!” A sleazy guy from across the pool area yelled as if on cue. “The fluffers are almost done with these guys. I am telling you, you have your work cut out today. You need lube, or you good?” The man glanced at Madison and Bryan. “Hell, maybe see if your man with the camera wants a turn on the other side of the lens... We all know there's plenty of Tiff to go around.”

“Wait!” Madison grabbed her arm as she turned to leave. “Can't you tell us anything about what happened to you? About what might have happened to the contestants on these tapes?” The former Trevor tried to pull her slender arm free. “What about the surgeries they did to you?”

“Surgeries?!” Tiff turned back to them, her eyes suddenly wide and very alert. “There were no surgeries! That's not what they did... They have this chair...no, a throne! They plug you into it, and turn you into whatever they want. It's like a dream. Wait, no...” She blinked rapidly and her cleavage heaved. “It's a fucking nightmare!”

Tell Tale

This is a new caption for my Mannequeen series. The rest of the story is on my index page

It started with a call from one of her confidential informants – not a conversation but fifty seconds of breathing and frantic tapping. Detective Lara Lake knew something was wrong the moment she entered Harry Federici's putrid apartment. Nothing but silence and fear greeted her and her heart thudded in her chest as she inched inside, her gun drawn. She found Harry in the bathroom – or rather what had become of him. She recognised him by the panic in his eyes and she had no doubt her former snitch was the latest victim of the Mannequeen.

Harry was staring into the mirror at his new form, soft pink lips parted in terror and one hand grasping at his throat. He was naked but for panties and stockings, and large round breasts, indistinguishable from the real thing hung freely. Lara had seen this before in the Mannequeen's victims – the initial shock of waking to find a female body where theirs had once been. Panicked hands that touched and pinched at every inch of skin, desperately looking for a way out, disbelieving at how real it felt. She spotted the tape recorder next to the sink.

“Hello, Detective Lake. I want to play a game. I am so enjoying this cat and mouse set up we have going on that I decided to leave you a lump of cheese...my dearest rodent. Harry, your dearest CI has been permanently sealed up inside one of my state-of-the-art bodysuits...” The naked figure at the sink started to tremble violently. “You may also notice that I have taken away his ability to speak. The once loose lipped Harry Federici will never again utter a single word. That is because what he has to say is not important. It is what you do next, Detective that will speak volumes.”

Lara looked up. The informant has begun frantically clawing at his black silk panties. Somehow it had taken him this long to realise it was indeed a fully female bodysuit. “The choice is yours Detective. You can take Harry in as the latest but by no means greatest victim of the Mannequeen. He will be processed and questioned and your clods will as always try every futile means of freeing him from his new body. He may no longer be able to talk but there are other ways to communicate. I wonder how your colleagues will react when he tells them of our special little rivalry... Or, Harry can be left to embrace his new life as a silent, but very sexy, lady of the night. The choice is yours, Detective, choose wisely.”

The tape ended and Lara's eyes met with the terrified informant's. He had been ready to turn evidence against a powerful mob boss, but this encounter was a step too far for his nerves. She thought for a moment and then brought her phone to her ear. “Hey, you still got a contact for Don Fabio? Yeah, tell him I've found one of his girls. Doesn't seem to speak English. I'll text you the address.” She put the phone away and looked back at Harry one last time. “I wouldn't bother putting on clothes. You probably won't be needing them...”  

 

So, what's next for my captions?

 You may have noticed that I just finished posting the last of my Season 7 captions. My seasons of captions are where I put my core stories involving all my biggest ideas and recurring series and characters. While I also post commissions and the odd impulse story midweek, along with a flashback caption on a Friday, I post my main captions every Sunday in blocks of 25 and then finish with a teaser for the next block of captions.

So, now that I am finished with Season 7 am I going back on hiatus for another couple of years?

NO!

I am just finishing up Season 8 and should be ready to start posting it by the end of the month. It is again 25 captions that I will post every Sunday, and is called "Making the Punishment Fit the Crime." Overall the stories have a bit of a recurring justice theme and included will be multipart stories featuring Femnonymous, Aiko, the Mannequeen, the Pink n Prissy Collective and Bimbo Note. Over the next few weeks I will be posting Flashback Fridays that will set up some of the main storylines as well as some other stories that feed into the Mannequeen and Aiko stories to come.

Season 7 Epilogue: The Network Presents...

26/25

Season 7 has ended but not without a little sting in the tail. I will be posting about what's coming next very shortly but here is a little continuation of my Network and Femnonymous series. Both are available in full on my index page.

Bryce uncapped the bottle of bourbon and filled the two glasses on his desk. He handed one to the other man in the office and clinked a toast. Despite it being years since he had been CEO of The Network in any kind of active capacity, the tradition of Friday afternoon drinks with his chief legal advisor had persevered and as usual both men were shooting the shit.

“I am telling you Bob – this new show, Hot House, is our way back in. Viewers can’t get enough of it. The audience is still there for our product. We could air Spot that Sissy tomorrow, hell, Make up or Fake Up, Mutually Assured Distraction – put any of that shit back on screen and the viewership would eat it right up.”

“Right…” Bob replied tentatively. “But aren’t you forgetting? The numbers were never the problem. It was them! It was…Femnonymous…” He almost whispered the last word. “I am sure you don’t need reminding, but they kidnapped six of our junior producers and promised to force them to play their own perverted version of the Apprentits!”

“Sure, sure,” Bryce waved his glass dismissively, “but that was years ago. And here we are, still waiting. I am sure if they were ever going to make good on that, they would have done it by now. And what do we have? A big lot of nothing!”

“Actually…” Bob began uneasily, “nevermind…” He looked down into his drink for several minutes but when he looked back up his friend was still staring at him raptly. Realising Bryce wasn’t going to let it go, he continued. “Alright, but this doesn’t leave this room,” he sighed. “Five years ago, a friend of mine at the FBI contacted me to tell me that they had raided a secret Femnonymous compound on an abandoned island. No-one was there, but they recovered tapes. It was the Apprentits. Their Apprentits!”

“Holy shit!” The CEO’s glass tumbled to the floor. “Have you seen them?!”

“No.” His legal advisor shook his head. “But my contact did send me this.” He turned to a filing cabinet and pulled out one of the drawers. After some rummaging he produced an envelope with the FBI seal and “Classified” stamped on the front. Bob removed a photograph from it and handed it to Bryce. “That’s a still from one of the tapes!” He looked at his friend with a serious expression. “So, you see why we can’t revive The Network?”

“Woah…” Bryce fell into his chair without taking his eyes from the picture. A woman with long blonde hair in a bikini was kneeling before the camera – her body and face clearly surgically enhanced to cartoonish proportions that still failed to hide an expression of shame and helplessness. He tried to match the creature in the photograph to one of the six producers taken by Femnonymous and realised he couldn’t even tell if they were originally male or female. “This is extraordinary!” He met Bob’s eye. “But this is exactly why we should revive The Network. This…” He tapped the photograph. “This could make us millions! Please tell me you can get those tapes! They can be our comeback special!”  

Being Her Valentine Part 3

 

“You really thought a couple of sisters as close as us wouldn't compare Valentine's cards?” Sara cackled gleefully. “You really are a silly sissy...a silly piggy sissy!!” She watched Michael reach up behind his head to where the ballgag was fastened – it was clear he wanted to remove it so he could respond. “What do you think you're doing?” He paused in place. “I wasn't asking you a question. I was stating a fact. You are a pathetic two-timing piggy sissy waste of DNA!” She snorted another fit of giggles as Michael averted his gaze from her. “Right, Steph?”

“Right!” Steph agreed, standing alongside her sister with her arms crossed. She wasn't taking the same level of pleasure from Michael's predicament as Sara but it stung in a different way. He saw the hurt in her eyes, and spite, and a cold need for vengeance. She had been the one he tried to cheat on after all. Sara's taunting was humiliating, but Steph's hollow intensity scared him. What had he been thinking?!

“Hey Mom,” Sara called to Sophia, who had been watching on from the other side of the room since they had dragged Michael back into the house. “What do you think we should do with this bitch? Say, I'm surprised the stupid sissy didn't send you a card too. He's clearly always had the hots for you too. All that pathetic grovelling whenever Steph brought him over for Sunday dinner. Yes, Mrs.. No, Mrs... Three bags full, Mrs...”

“Is it true?!” Steph had a fire in her voice and Michael looked up at her timidly from his position on his knees. The ballgag they had stuffed in his mouth was sucking in his cheeks awkwardly. There was no dignity in the world that could possibly be salvaged from this situation. “All this time... playing house with me... running around after my little sister... and you still thought the sun shone out of my Mom's ass? Well, let's see shall we?! Mom, get over here!”

“Yeah, Mom...” Sara laughed sharing a look with her sister and catching on with her plan. “Come here! Come help us show this piggy sissy what really shines out of your ass!” Sophia stared back tentatively then glanced at the kneeling Michael, who somehow managed to look confused in spite of the ballgag and layers of makeup.

“You girls...” Sophia smiled at her daughters and shook her head. “If I can't say 'no' to you, what chance did this cretin stand? Come on then... Let's do this!” She walked across the room and Michael looked around nervously as Steph and Sara positioned themselves either side of him. Sophia stopped in front of him, turned around and hiked her skirt up so he was face-to-ass with her g-string parted cheeks. Before he could react, the three women acted with impressive coordination. Sophia pulled down her panties and bent over and Steph and Sara each grabbed the back of his head and firmly pressed it forward. Michael's world went black. “Hold him tight, girls!” Sophia hollered. “With that gag, our little piggy will have no choice but to breathe me in!”

Being Her Valentine Part 2

 

“Come on, Steph. Please let me in!” Michael thumped his fists against the glass. “I know I said I would do whatever you wanted, but there is no reason to torture me. I just want to fix our relationship!” He let his hands fall to his sides as his girlfriend continued to stare at him impassively from the other side of the sliding door. He wasn't even sure she could hear him. However, if he continued to shout, he sure would attract the attention of their neighbours. Michael looked around at the multiple houses with direct lines of sight into their yard where he was pleading. What would he look like to them? He surveyed himself in his reflection in the glass door. He really did look like a piggy sissy in the heavy makeup and blonde wig – completely naked except for the hot pink bra and panties. “Come on, Steph!” He begged. “I'm...I'm...” His mind raced. “I'm so cold!” But Steph simply turned around and left her position at the window.

“If you're so cold, put this on!” The door was open just a second but it was long enough for Steph to yell her command and hurl the pink satin dress at him. Michael just stood there dumbly, unfolding it. It had an old-fashioned cut, somewhere between a maid's dress and a babydoll with big poofy sleeves and sown in stockings. He could tell it would be tight but he really was cold and he didn't want to stand around in the bright pink underwear waiting for one of his neighbours to glance out the window. Reluctantly, he pulled the dress over his head and the stockings up his legs. Raising his arms to the watching Steph in a sarcastic pose, he turned and sat down on the decking. Maybe if he made it seem like this didn't bother him, she would end it sooner. He raised his eyebrows and folded his hands in his lap.

“Michael! What in the hell are you doing out here?!” His heart leapt in his chest at the sight of the older woman whose eyes looked like they might pop out of her skull. “And what on earth are you wearing?!” Sophia was Steph's Mom and despite being a good 25 years older, still shared the same elegant good looks. As she blinked more times than any human Michael had ever seen, he felt a wave of fresh shame wash over him at being discovered like this. “You look like a...like a...total sissy!”

“Hey, Mom! I have your car keys!” Michael heard a fresh voice calling from the other side of the fence. The gate through which Sophia had entered the yard swung open once more and the owner of the voice entered. “Hey, Mom – any idea why Steph told us to come round the back...” The new woman stopped mid sentence and her jaw dropped open. Where Sophia was attractive, her youngest daughter, Sara, was stunningly beautiful. She possessed Steph's sharp angular features but retained a youthful mischief her older sister had lost a few years back. It had been why Michael had sent her the Valentine's card. Sara's mouth closed into an evil grin and suddenly he knew exactly what was happening. “I see my sister didn't waste any time punishing you for trying to two-time us...”

Being Her Valentine Part 1

“That's it, Michael. Paint it on nice and thick.” Steph instructed. “Come on. Just like I showed you. Just like you promised!” Michael squinted at the tiny brush in his hand, concentrating on the tiny grains of powder on its end before allowing his vision to unfocus to the round makeup mirror with the illuminated edge. He almost didn't recognise the face that gazed back, caked with different shades of colour and framed by the bangs of the blonde wig. “What are you waiting for? Slather it on you piggy sissy!”

“Piggy?” Michael lowered the brush and turned his head towards his girlfriend. That was the second time she had called him that now. The first time he had assumed she was being playful, just getting into character – he had even liked it. It had been authoritative...demanding. But this time there was an edge to it.

“That's right!” Steph smirked coldly. “In your Valentine's Day card to me you said you would do anything to be the man I wanted. You said you would change. Well, I am taking you up on that offer! I am showing you how to be the man I want!” She appeared to grow impatient with Michael's continued hesitance, and took the brush from his hand and proceeded to paint his eyelids with rock-solid precision. “And what I want is a Piggy Sissy!”

“Ah...” Michael's glossy red lower lip dropped open. His pride, at least what was left of it didn't appreciate Steph talking to him like that, but other parts of his anatomy did. She seemed to notice the stirring within the satin of his panties and snorted cruelly. Michael lowered his head and sat in shameful silence. He truly wanted to reignite the passion in their relationship, and he had meant every word of his pledge in the Valentine's card to Steph. By saying he would do whatever she wanted from him, his intention was to put the ball in her court. He just never thought this would be the game she would ask him to play. She had read the card in silence, her lips pursed, before folding it carefully and leaving the room. When she had returned, she was carrying her makeup box in one hand and a bright pink bra in the other. Nevertheless, he had swallowed hard and told himself – 'If this is what it takes to save our relationship so be it.'

“Almost done, Piggy!” Steph declared after several more minutes of painting his face with the brush. “There...” She smiled warmly for the first time since reading the card. “Now for phase two. Come...” She put the brush down and walked from the room. Michael's heart lept in his chest. Was she taking him to the bedroom? Was this what she wanted from him? To satisfy some kink she had been hiding? He followed her through the house with a mix of confusion and disappointment as she passed the staircase leading to their bedroom. “Look out there!” She opened the sliding door at the back of the house and stared off into the yard. Michael followed her gaze, moving closer to get a better look...until suddenly, Steph shifted her weight and shoved him with both hands over the threshold. He turned in horror just in time to see her lock the door with a loud click.

 

Sssshhh

 25/25

'Ooooohhh...he's perfect!' squealed Alice, looking down at their project. 'Wait! What am I even saying? He? She! She's fantastic! She's everything we were hoping for! She'll make a wonderful maid for our party.'

Georgina beamed with pride from her sorority sister's praise. 'Nice little loophole, don't you think? Now, no girls from outside the sisterhood need to be at our party and no-one needs to know we let any but the most alpha boys in campus come within five feet of us. Besides, I doubt any of those mousy little things from Beta-Beta-Beta could fill out a dress as well as this one! I even packaged her up in case she had the idea of making a run for it!'

Sean cowered beneath the duo of manic girls. The wig had only been on his head thirty seconds and it was already itching. He just prayed they were joking about the glue. Combined with the figure hugging frilly dress and the fishnet stockings, he felt like he was being squeezed all over. Still, none of it compared to their eyes on him, their satisfied mocking stares. And that was without the ropes Georgina had tied around his ankles and wrists – she had even bound his shoulders. Who hid she think he was? Houdini?!

Alice snapped a picture with her smart phone. 'Think I'm gonna use that to copy her makeup,' she grinned. 'It's a bit slutty, but I can make slutty work.' She winked at Sean in a way that made something stir inside his satin panties and his glossy pink bottom lip dropped open. 'Now, my dear maid,' she beckoned, 'show us how you're going to greet our guests.'

'Please,' Sean grunted in disbelief. What the hell was she expecting while he was tied up like this?! 'Please let me go.'

'Not ladylike at all,' Alice shook her head with disappointment. 'That won't fool even the dumbest of your fratboy pals.'

'It was what I suspected,' Georgina shrugged,' that's why I got that.' She pointed at Sean's neck and he nervously looped a finger around the leather choker, pulling the heart-shaped ring away from his Adam's apple. Georgina didn't hesitate. She stepped forward and pulled it forcefully over his chin. The hoop sunk between his plump lips and he instinctively fastened his teeth around it to stop it going deeper, not realising until it was too late that was exactly where it was intended to go.

'Urrggghh,' he moaned.

'Perfect,' nodded Alice once more, 'now you sound as tarty as you look. 'Say,' she eyed Sean's now open mouth, 'you're looking a little exposed there...let's make that forced little dentist's smile a surprise for them!' She reached for a roll of tape and slapped a piece over his mouth. "It might take those fratboys a little time to find that sweet O of yours, but don't worry, they will want to explore your pretty mouth before long. I hope they play nice with you."

'Oh, don't worry,' Georgina's eyes twinkled, 'I'm sure you'll get a taste for them in no time...'

Spoils of War Part 3

 

“Hush, my dear brother... It's over now!” Alyssa smiled warmly, circling her bed. “The battle is won. The war is over. All that remains is the victory parade.” Robert was kneeling in the centre of her duvet in something of a PTSD haze. The quiet of the sorority house bedroom was in stark contrast to the stadium packed with tens of thousands of screaming fans where the Epsilon-Zeta girls of Beaverhole had dragged him along in full uniform as an honorary member of their cheer squad. He had been forced into clumsy high kicks between plays and to sit with the rest of the cheerleaders on the bench behind the bemused players. He had even appeared on the big screen at one point. His parents had seen him, he realised with a sinking dread,

And yet, the beast had been conquered, the game had been won, and the rival sorority had reluctantly handed their hostage back to his sister's clan. So, why was he still trussed up in velvet and nylon and painted like a sissy?! Robert turned his head to one side to gaze out the window and felt the long locks of his wig brush across his heavily made-up cheek. After all that had passed he still felt miles from freedom.

After the game had ended in victory, Alyssa and her friends had carried Robert on their shoulders back to the sorority house. He was soon naked once more as they stripped him of the Beaverhole uniform to throw on a small fire. His sister had to bat away a gleeful college girl who was enjoying Robert's perfectly smooth skin a little too much, and then she dropped the bomb that his ordeal was far from over as the girls were planning to parade their trophy at the college's victory party. All the girls mucked in to transform him once more, and by now Robert found that most of the resistance had gone out of him. He obeyed meekly as they produced a velvety party dress with long nylon sleeves and bejewelled choker, and demanded he dress himself. It was still slightly better than being nude in front of two dozen girls, and definitely better than being dressed as a cheerleader in front of the entire town. And still, his mind raced at the thought of what the sorority had planned for him, their new mascot, at their victory parade.

“Those Beaverhole girls are so dumb!” Alyssa smirked as she continued to admire her work, touching up Robert's make-up and rearranging bits of hair. “You know we told them this could be an annual thing?! Like we compete to win you as a trophy every Valentine's game. That's how we got them to agree to hand you over. I hate to say it, but you'll be long gone before the rematch next year.”

“What?!” Robert's face went pale. Suddenly the parade seemed like the least of his problems. “No, Alyssa, I won't be...” He stammered. “I didn't tell you... We were supposed to tell you this weekend... I got offered a place at Seabrook. I will be starting here in the fall. I'm going to be here for the next four years...” His heart pounded as he realised just how far from freedom he really was...

Spoils of War Part 2

 I was tempted to leave this as a bit of an Easter egg, but Beaverhole and the Epsilon-Zeta sorority are from the caption universe of my own friend B-Rex - someone who has influenced my captioning style more than anyone else over the last 12 years. B-Rex isn't currently posting but I highly recommend you go check out Degraded Damsels and see how much I have managed to rip off as my own ideas 

About a dozen girls crowded around Robert as he lay prone on the floor – their excitement evident in their rapid giggled whispers to one another. 'It's a guy!' 'It's a sissy!' 'It's some kind of pet!' 'Probably a boyfriend who got caught cheating!' 'It's pathetic!' 'It's probably their mascot!'

“It's a trophy!” The crowd parted to allow a stubby butch girl with an air of leadership into the centre right in front of Robert. “And it's ours! Those Seabrook bitches think they are so much better than us! They think their boys are going to crush our team in the big Valentines Homecoming game tomorrow! Well, were going to show them! Were going to show them that Beaverhole is not a town to be messed with, and we sure as hell are going to show them that Epsilon-Zeta is a sorority to be feared. And we are going to start by making an example of their little mascot here!”

Robert very quickly came to understand that the short masculine girl was named Lynn and was the leader of the Epsilon-Zeta sorority, a prominent house from his sister's college's rival school and opponents in tomorrow's Homecoming game. He could also tell that the other girls feared her like a drill sergeant as they moved obediently to her barked orders. For the second time in three hours, Robert was stripped naked in front of a room full of girls, and to his dismay, his member was still feeling the effects of his forced ice-cold shower – something that amused the encroaching sorority.

“He's completely smooth!” Chuckled one of the girls running her hand up his leg – an experience Robert might have enjoyed under other circumstances. Another girl lifted him under his armpits as hands slapped as his bare ass and one girl even pinched at his testicles. He was turned to face some approaching girls and when he saw what they were carrying, he began to struggle.

They overpowered him easily, of course, and within no time they had stuffed him into the Beaverhole cheer uniform complete with matching spandex spanks and sheer pantyhose. One of the girls had sat on his chest while another glammed up his makeup and replaced his wig with one with long wavy highlights. They were turning him into one of them, Robert realised in horror, and when they finally released their grip on him, he scrambled backwards on all fours until his back was pressed against the wall.

“Here! You'll need these!” Lynn threw a pair of pompoms at his feet. “Cheerleading isn't my thing, but the girls here will show you our routine!” Over the next hour, Robert was forced through an exhausting regimen of high-kicks, clumsy cartwheels and waved pompoms. His mistakes were mercilessly corrected by the team of girls and a sinking dread formed in his stomach at the sight of Lynn filming every moment of it. Just when he thought his lungs would explode, they left him a sweaty humiliated mess on the floor. Five minutes later, Lynn reappeared holding her phone. “It's official! Those bitches at Seabrook saw our video and agreed terms. Whichever college wins the Homecoming game tomorrow gets to keep their little mascot here as their own!”

Spoils of War Part 1

 

Robert lay on the leather sofa in the communal area of the sorority house feeling utterly pathetic. He should be loving this. All around him, college girls in various states of undress weaved excitedly. Uncupped boobs poked through vest tops with panties peeking from below. Towels were wrapped around heads of girls still wet from the shower. Skin was on show everywhere he looked. This was why he came. He should be in heaven. And yet...

The last few hours felt like a fever dream. It was the weekend of the big homecoming game and Robert's sister Alyssa was one of the star cheerleaders. Their parents had planned to drive up with Robert on game day to watch the big contest and their daughter perform, but Robert had convinced them to let him come a day early to hang out. In reality, Alyssa had told him about the epic slumber parties she and the rest of the sorority girls had the night before a bit game and he wanted to try to catch a glimpse of some sexy sorority shenanigans. Things had gone well at first. He had popped a few beers with the help of a fake ID and then crept through the darkness of the evening to one of the sorority house's ground floor windows. The party had been in full flow. Girls were dancing in their underwear and sipping colourful drinks. He had even seen a flash of side boob on a beautiful red-headed girl. That's where things started to go wrong. A group of girls returning with a stack of pizzas spotted him and before Robert could run, he was kicked swiftly in the groin.

“How is our guest of honour enjoying herself?” Alyssa was standing at the end of the sofa with a mocking grin on her face. Robert instinctively hugged the stuffed bear the girls had given him, cursing how pitiful he must have looked. She can see right up the dress I'm wearing, he realised, and shifted his knees up to his belly defensively. This only succeeded in showing her his pantied butt. The girls had done a number on him alright... Before he had even recovered from the pain and indignity of being booted in the crotch, five girls had removed him of his clothing and he was fully naked before he had even been dragged into the house. It was like they had done this before, so prepared and regimented were they for his arrival. Two had held him down, while another three had smothered his body with what he later found out to be hair removal cream. He had watched the last of his body hair trickle down the drain as a laughing girl had showered him with ice-cold water that shrank his cock to the size of his little toe. He had been been putty in their hands after that – a toy to be be powdered and painted and dressed as they wished. Not a boy – a doll... And now a distraction, a piece of furniture that they occasionally stopped to giggle at as they continued with their party. He should have been in heaven...but he was in a kind of sissy hell – one being conducted by his sister, Alyssa.

Suddenly, there was a crash of breaking glass, and a few seconds later everything went black. High-pitched squealing surrounded him as frightened girls ran around in a frenzy. Eventually, they trailed off as the sorority sisters sought refuge in their bedrooms, leaving Robert alone in the darkness of the communal area. “Hey!” He heard a female voice very close to him and a bright light was shone directly in his eyes. “I've got one. Quick! Let's grab her and get out of here!” Robert felt three sets of hands grab the smooth skin of his arms and legs and begin to drag him away.  

The Isolationist (Bimbo Note)

 24/25

This continues my Bimbo Note story. All the previous captions are linked on my index page.

“You know this is kind of weird, right?” Chuck turned to face Azalea at the entrance to his building. “It is usually the guy who walks the girl home. Truly you are a dominant to the absolute core!” He grinned, his blue eyes blazed as Azalea blushed before leaning into a long deep kiss.

Azalea had only been dating Chuck four months but this had already become their ritual. Whenever they parted, she would walk him back to his apartment whether it was first thing in the morning or last at night, they would kiss and then he would wave to her from his balcony as she waved back from the street.

“Well, you know I need to make sure you get back safe!” Azalea smiled coyly. “There are all sorts of scary people out there.” She glanced across the street and Chuck followed her gaze to where an impossibly old man was trying and failing to get an equally ancient lawnmower to cut his grass. They laughed together and then kissed again.

For the first time in her memory, Azalea was happy. Chuck loved her dark sides, he was cool with her being on OnlyFemmes and even though he didn't know about...the book, she shared every other part of her with him. Besides that, the sex was other-wordly.

“I love you!” The words hit her like a fist. She stepped back from Chuck to get a better look at him and he stared back with unwavering confidence. “You don't have to say anything back. I just want you to know!” He kissed her again and then he was gone – through the glass doors and into the lobby of his building towards the row of elevators.

Azalea swallowed hard and fell against the side of the building. Oh, Chuck! She screamed internally. Why'd you have to go and say that? Her lips pressed together as her mind raced over what to do next. No-one had ever said those three words to her before, and that was fine. She knew she would never be able to say them back. But now? What did it mean? How could she let someone get that close? Panic seized her, and after a moment of hesitation, she pulled the Bimbo Note from her bag and scrawled Chuck Winston on an empty page.

Walking down the street, Azalea allowed herself one last look back as she had on countless visits to Chuck's building. A figure was crouched on the second floor balcony staring blankly at her through the railing, large breasts cupped in a leopard print bra that had fallen off one shoulder. Azalea wiped a single tear from her cheek, gave a small wave, and continued on her way.

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!”