The Apprentits Lost Tapes Part 3

 6/25

“Why did you do it? Why did you screw us?” Chris asked Angela one evening while they were alone. With Hannah and her relentless appetite for cock gone from the island, the nights at the beach camp had become far more muted affairs and they were sitting quietly around the remains of a campfire. Angela stared back at the reserved young man and considered making a crack that she was the only female contestant that hadn't screwed him – having witnessed his double-teaming of Celia in the first game and then his nightly visits to Hannah's hut first hand. But she knew what he was talking about. “Why did you sabotage the Network's shows so Femnonymous would do what they did?” He saw the practised look of innocence begin to spread across her face and cut it off at the pass. “Martin and Celia may have been too focussed on their career advancement to see what you were doing, but not me. You would be amazed what an introvert notices. I'm sure Martin and Celia have a lot more time to listen now...” He made to stand up.

“Wait!” Angela yelped. “Alright, I will tell you!” She didn't know what Martin and Celia would do if Chris went to them with this, but it wouldn't be anything good. The odds were stacked in her favour given her past history of siding with Femnonymous, but she wasn't infallible. Certainly she wasn't if all three remaining contestants conspired against her. “You're young, Chris...and naïve. You worked for the Network like, what? Four months? It's probably your first job right? Dream come true... Well, that was me once... Only I was a little more like Celia that I will even admit to her. Anyway, three years ago I started out as a junior producer. Spot that Sissy had just gone viral and it was just me and another girl called Mandy...The Network was nowhere near as big as it is today yet. Still small enough that the company CEO would attend the company Christmas party. I even met him at my first one. Guy called Bryce Murphy. He apparently even took quite a shine to me. Promised me a big new promotion before the second season of Spot that Sissy.” Chris was looking at her raptly. “Only it never happened. Mandy got it instead. I was even happy for her until I found out she had been blowing him since the party. When I asked him about it, he had no idea who I even was. The Network is a cancer, Chris. It makes a mockery of women on and off the screen. It is rotten to its core and I want watch it decay!”

“But Bryce Murphy isn't here. We are!” Chris said said finally after listening to her sermon. “If we get turned into human sextoys, how exactly does that help your cause?” He stood quietly and left Angela to stoke at the dying embers of the campfire.

The third game was a most unwelcome one – quite literally. Before things even began, all four contestants were fitting with bejewelled buttplugs, along with a healthy glob of the lubricant from the second round. Angela felt betrayed. She had never been invaded like this before. How could they do this to her? She was their mole and she was being degraded like a whore – like the rest of the producers... This time she was paired with Martin against Chris and Celia. The game was simple – each plug had a matching trigger that had been hidden somewhere on the island. Each team was tasked with finding the ones corresponding to the opposition team and activating the one for the contestant they wished to be consigned to the throne. Angela was amazed to find that Martin took to the game like a duck to water, in spite of the invasion to his backside. He led her through jungle and around buildings like he had been fitted with a gps rather than a sextoy. Clearly he been doing his homework. Within two hours they had both triggers but instead of operating them, Martin led Angela to a dark area behind some trees.

“Don't speak. Just listen.” He whispered. “This is a blindspot from the cameras.” He glanced around them at the trees. “We have a few minutes before those latex bitches notice we aren't on any of the feeds and come looking for us, so I will make this quick. I have found a way off this place – a way off the island.” His eyes locked with Angela's. “We can get out of here! Celia is in, but I haven't spoken to Chris. I saw you with him this morning. Can we trust him?” Martin produced the pair of triggers and Angela struggled to resist grabbing Celia's and slamming down the button. She couldn't wait to see that bitch get transformed. But a way off the island? No way could she let that happen. She considered the options and a sudden urgency overwhelmed her. What if Celia and Chris were having this exact conversation somewhere else on the island about her? What would Chris say? Sure she was a mole, but there was no way Femnonymous would risk losing face by sparing her if she lost this game. Angela shot out a hand and pressed Chris's trigger...

Chris clutched the furry handcuffs in one hand and the whip in the other, and tried to steady himself for what he needed to do next. Months had passed since the throne had transformed him but the compliance chip still felt alien. He knew he looked like a different person now – a slender women with long dark hair, a cute butt and a penchant for wearing tight latex outfits that squeezed his tidy breasts and brand new pussy – but the chip made him behave like a different person too. In his former life he had been a quiet introverted junior producer, barely more than an intern – and now he was a hyperactive loud dominatrix with a basket of dildos about to get to work on her latest client. Or so the chip demanded... The chip was the real dominatrix here... And still he obeyed, he yelled, he whipped, he insulted, he spanked...and ultimately he sat on the dick until the customer was satisfied. It humiliated him that he found that bit the easiest. He wanted to hate Femnonymous for what they had done to him – but in his rare moments of quiet when the chip wasn't whirring and issuing demands, his thoughts of revenge were for someone quite different...

Back on the island, Angela awoke with a start. She immediately felt vulnerable, being forced to sleep naked will do that, but even more so when someone is standing over you shaking you awake. She tried to scream but a strong hand clamped over her mouth.

“We're getting out of here right now!” Martin hissed in her ear. “Let's go! Celia is waiting outside...”

The Apprentits Lost Tapes Part 2

 5/25

Angela knew the remaining guys were fucking Hannah. It was some kind of end of the world shit. They knew they were doomed and Hannah had been a drooling insatiable mess since Angela had jammed three doses of the aphrodisiac into her. Femnonymous were keeping the remaining producers in bamboo huts on the beach. There were no doors or locks since there was nowhere for them to run to, and so all throughout the night, the restless frightened guys took turns in crossing the sand to screw the sex-crazed former office-mom stupid – or even stupider. Angela sat in the doorway of her hut and watched them come and go. Hannah would be roused to shrill screams of ecstasy and then they would leave again, sometimes even crossing paths, their gazes averted.

Celia watched too. Her usual stony bravado was much subdued since the first game. Angela wasn't sure if it was getting double teamed in front of the cameras that had done it or witnessing Jason's abrupt and dramatic transformation into a huge chested blonde sex doll. If they hadn't known the stakes before, they sure knew them now.

“If you try that shit you pulled on Hannah on me, I will crush you!” Celia called out flatly from her seat in the doorway of her hut. Angela just nodded silently. Hannah wasn't the first bimbo she had been responsible for creating. In her time working for the Network, she had been responsible for the sabotage of numerous shows that resulted in the unwilling transformation of the male contestants. It had been her that waved the red flag for Femnonymous to come swooping in and punish her stupid company. Sure, they had taken her too. But she supposed that was part of the grand plan. Once a mole, always a mole, right? Celia would be resigned to bimbodom like the rest of them. She thought being facefucked by Jason was bad? Just wait until Femnonymous turned her into some kind of playboy's silicone plaything... She would be praying for the day the worst thing to happen her was sucking Jason's dick. “What are you grinning at, bitch?” Celia called over and Angela realised her daydreams of Celia's inevitable future had surfaced as a dopey smile all over her face.

“I was just wondering where this is going to fit on your resumee?” Angela said softly. “Does getting kidnapped by vigilantes and turned into a mindless drone fit with your lofty career ambitions?” Cecil scowled and finally went inside her hut leaving Angela to listen to the rhythmic clapping of one of the guys going at it with Hannah.

The second challenge came the next day. Five women clad head to toe in latex led the contestants to a clearing where four large perspex containers stood about two feet high and five feet square. Two of the containers were filled with some kind of transparent jelly substance – lube the producers realised one by one. The game was simple. Split into two teams, it was a straight race to move all the lubricant from one of the containers to one of the empty ones – the catch being that none of them could use any tools except for their own naked bodies. Whichever team lost would lose one of their members to the throne, which had been set up ominously in the centre of the clearing.

Angela was paired with Chris and Hannah and as they were getting ready to begin, she could see Celia looking around at the treeline surrounding the clearing. She's looking for the cameras, Angela realised. After everything they had been through, the stupid bitch was concerned how the humiliating experience they were about to undertake would reflect on her. Angela felt a sudden desperation to win the game so she could see Celia's downfall...so everyone could see her degradation right there, right now...

Alas, it wasn't to be... The usually self-centred career climbers of Martin and Celia may be a lot of things but they were also resourceful. After a short discussion, Celia adopted a boat-like sitting position and Martin began to frantically scoop handfuls of lube into her lap. Once she was holding a good amount, Martin grabbed her underneath her knees and armpits with his strong lean arms, and hoisted both her and her quarry to the empty container. Angela glared disapprovingly at her teammates. There was no chance the weedy Chris could do the same for her and Hannah had already sprawled in the tub of lube, furiously fisting herself and moaning loudly. With a feeling of futility, they got to work trying to grab armfuls of the goo and carry it to the target. Within minutes, all five of them were gloopy slippery messes dripping with the jelly. It was a horrible mismatch and Martin and Celia ran out resounding victors in about fifteen minutes – about the same time it took Hannah to have six orgasms, who was then carried awkwardly by four latex clad amazons to the throne despite still having a full hand thrust into her own sex.

The transformation was as quick as it had been for Jason. Hannah may have already been a woman, but it was no less dramatic. The tubes fixed to her glistening skin even as she continued to masturbate, and filled her with the chemicals while some kind of mask fitted itself around her face. The other four producers and all the cameras watched in silence as she was mechanically crafted into something unrecognisable.

Hannah was breathing hard as she leant back on the bed. She didn't know how long she had been there anymore. She didn't care. She just knew she had been waiting too long for the next man. The last one had left her unquenched. They always did. It was because of her new body. She knew that much. Her new tits...her massive round new ass...even her fat new lips. They were why the men didn't last long now. It didn't matter matter if she put them in her mouth, let them shoot it up her butt or rode them like a good old rodeo, they could only hold it in a few minutes. Good thing there seemed to be an endless supply of them. Finally, there was a knock at the door and a huge man entered. She could already see his erection throbbing inside his jeans – ready to please her. Ready to try. She parted her silk-stockinged legs invitingly so the man could see up her crotchless panties as he approached, and opened her mouth – ready to feast...

The Apprentits Lost Tapes Part 1

 4/25

Angela learned three things in the first ten minutes after they were herded from the boat onto the island. There were cameras everywhere filming their every move. They had each been fitted with neuro-chips that would ensure their absolute compliance. Only one of them would be leaving as anything but a caricature of femininity stretched to bursting point with silicone.

There were six of them, all producers working for the Network on their gameshows in what was now surely a former life, and now stripped naked and sizzling in the tropical sun. There was Martin, broad-shoulders and confident – a leader in every way except having actual authority. Jason was the production team's resident joker - everything was a game to him and he had laughed endlessly at the predicaments the Network's contestants found themselves in. Angela wondered if he found humour in their current situation. Chris was the youngest of the group – barely more than a intern really and extremely introverted.

Then there were the girls. Hannah was the team Mom. She was their shoulder to cry on when life got stressful and the supplier of endless office snacks. Angela hated her endless optimism and bubbly nature. Celia on the other hand was you typical career climber – she acted friendly but there was no doubt she would stab you in the back if it came down to you or her. And then there was Angela – the brown haired betrayer of the Network and architect of Femnonymous's claiming of its employees as their playthings.

Angela wondered if they had actually fitted her with a compliance chip. Her alliance didn't need to be coerced. She had brought down the Network's shows from the inside – her sabotage instigating the raid. So why was she being used as a ringer like this? Why did Femnonymous need her as a contestant in their extreme version of the Apprentits? Surely, it was to guarantee that the five real Network producers got the bimbo transformations they deserved. Angela couldn't wait.

Tall athletic amazons dressed in black latex dresses led them to their first game. In a copy of the opening round from the Network's version of the Apprentits, it was to be a product pitch. Only in Femnonymous's twist they were all nude and the products in question were all sex toys. The six producers were split into two teams – Angela was matched with the trembling office Mom, Hannah, and Martin the wannabe team leader, with Celia standing tall between the other two guys. As they were breaking off into their teams, two of the latex clad women approached them, each holding three small syringes. They were doses of potent aphrodisiacs and would need to be injected before either team could start their pitch.

Angela watched as their three opponents gingerly collected a syringe and after some hesitation injected themselves in the arm. A hushed silence grew and Angela glanced from their syringes to Martin. She smirked softly before scooping up all three syringes and plunging them straight into Hannah's right shoulder.

The chemical was fast acting and within ten minutes the former team Mom was a cross-eyed drooling mess on the floor furiously debasing herself with an assortment of dildos and plugs while Angela and Martin stood over her competently explaining the features of each toy, pausing occasionally to allow Hannah's howling orgasms to punctuate their claims.

With their turn over, it was time to enjoy the show. Their opponents performed not so much a pitch but rather an orgy. Angela sincerely enjoyed watching the once cool and ambitious Celia be bent over and frantically pounded from either end by Jason and Chris. She struggled to stifle her laughter as the usually bookish Chris mounted her from behind and followed up his pistoned thrusts with hard spanks across her ass. Her delirious moans were muted by Jason's throbbing cock buried deep in her throat and the team clown cackled wildly as he screwed her mouth with abandon. It was Jason who came first, shooting his hot load deep inside Celia and causing her to choke slightly even as she screamed out her own orgasm. Very shortly, all three lay in sweaty panting pile – very much the losers of the first game.

That was the first time the contestants saw the 'throne' – a terrifying dentist chair-like contraption that rose from the floor intimidatingly. One of the latex clad women pointed at Jason and even in his state of exhaustion, his eyes went wide with horror. He got up to run but his compliance chip was activated, and with a strained look on his face, he climbed into the throne. Shackles snapped shut over his wrists and ankles and tubes began to slide out of the chair's surface and attach themselves all over his body. There was as gurgle as a viscous fluid began to flow freely into his body and the other five producers watched on it terror as it warped and expanded Jason's body beyond recognition.

Jason had always played the clown, and though he saw the irony in his predicament, the punchlines escaped him. He had blacked out on the throne and when he finally came to, his new life awaited him. The compliance chip ensured his swift integration into his role at the sperm back. It quelled his complaints and ensured his obedience. The vision of Celia's bug eyes as he shot hot spunk down her throat replayed over and over in his mind as he attempted to free himself from his bimbo prison. It was hopeless. He had been transformed into an absurdly proportioned blonde doll and compelled to use his new assets again and again to bring rich men to orgasm by any means necessary at an elite sperm depository. His breasts were enormous, his cock was gone, and his ridiculous pink uniform hugged both. He saw the nurses smirk as he wrapped his slender fingers around dick after dick, enticing them further with his bloated lips, and pumping them until they blew their load into glass recepticals - as he had blown his load into Celia to become the deranged game's first loser. There were no more jokes for him to make now. He was the only punchline necessary.

Whatever Happened to Robert? (The Apprentits)

 Robert last appeared on my Apprentits series - specifically this episode. All my Network captions are available on my index page.

“No sex in the champagne room,” The Juggernauts security guy said dryly as he lifted the velvet curtain for them to enter. “No cameras either!” He pointed to the device on Bryan's shoulder. “Come on, hand it over or you're not going in!” Bryan relieved himself of his equipment and followed Madison into the smoky room. The Frontline Entertain Media team were looking for another scoop ahead of the premier of the lost tapes of Femnonymous's perverted version of the Apprentits, and they were surprised to learn that a former Apprentits contestant was still working at a local strip joint. In the room a curvy bottle blonde wearing a black bra and thong underwear set swayed side to side on a pair of six-inch stilettos.

“I know you're here to interview me,” The woman purred from behind a face full of makeup. “But do you mind if I practice my routine while we talk? A prepared dancer is a well-tipped dancer!” Madison made a little surprised 'o' with her mouth but waved for the stripper to continue. “I suppose you're surprised I am still here after all these years... My forfeit on the show was only for a year after all.” The voluptuous woman who had once been Robert Williams, former child-star and losing contestant on the Network's Apprentits smiled wryly. “In some ways this is the best job I have ever had. The tips can be good too... Of course it helped that my trust fund was cut off after I apparently humiliated by family name on that freaking show.”

“Is it true the Network bought this club during the show just to force you to work in it?” Madison followed the sight of Robert's naked flesh as it gyrated and quivered before her. It was mesmerising to think this creature had once been masculine. “We've been interviewing Femnonymous victims over the past few weeks, and it's some freaky stuff. But what happened to you is just as extreme?”

“Oh yeah, they pulled no punches with me.” Robert said as he bent over with surprising agility and wrapped his arms around his calves, pushing his ass high in the air right in front of the two interviewers. “Of course, it's all Bryce Murphy's doing. He's the Network's CEO. Total psychopath. As you would imagine a guy who owns a line of game shows fixated on transforming men into women...into bimbos...” Robert put his hands on his knees and sank into a crouch. “You know he gets off on this stuff? Does that even surprise you? He visits the club sometimes too. Gets me to dance for him. He makes me feel like his own personal toy.” Robert finally stopped his routine and stood up high on his heels. “He brings his wife sometimes too. She's a bit of an airhead in her own way...a bit of drone. He has us do a bit of girl on girl. Not that I mind that bit – she's hot as hell... It's just...well, creepy. I know everyone thinks Bryce is crazy for wanting to release the Femnonymous tapes, but if you met the guy, you'd know it was right on brand.” He picked a bottle of champagne, popped the cork on it, and collapsed into one of the leather sofas. “We all know the Femnonymous show is going to be extreme – but Bryce is going to be watching with his ideas notepad in one hand and his dick in the other!”

Whatever Happened to Lance? (A Queen's Ransom)

 This continues my Femnonymous/Network stories, but the flashback is for one of my first captions - A Queen's Ransom. Part 1 is here.

Madison and Bryan knew it was a risk but the time was now or never for getting Frontline Entertainment Media on the map. Online gossip sites were already saturated with stories and scoops on the upcoming airing of Femnonymous's presumed lost version of the Network's own Apprentits and their interviews with past victims of the underground group had barely made a splash.

They stood in front of the large town house, microphone and camera at the ready, and they burst forward the second the door opened, knocking a flustered housekeeper to one side in the process. Senator Laney Charleton, formerly Lance, stood before them in the lobby leaning to adjust the ankle strap of an open-toed high-heel shoe. Her mouth dropped open until she saw the camera slung over Bryan's shoulder, and her politician's mask instantly reformed.

“Senator Charleton...” Madison gasped breathlessly. “How do you respond to allegations that your public gender transition eleven years ago was a total sham? And in fact you were actually the victim of one of Femnonymous's transformations? There first victim in fact...”

“Allegations from whom?” The Senator spluttered. “I will sue them, and you, if any such allegations are ever made public.” The blonde politician scowled and straightened her suit. “Do you really think I would persevere with these blasted shoes if it wasn't what I wanted? Now leave, immediately, before I call the police!”

“It has certainly been the making of your political career,” accused Bryan. “I hear you're in the running for the next vice president...” He shifted his camera to the other shoulder. “In a couple of weeks everyone is going to find out what really happened to those six Network producers who were kidnapped and forced to play the Apprentits. Who's to say some of Femnonymous's other victims won't also be on the tapes?” The Senator's face was suddenly ashen.

“Senator Charleton...” Madison took another step forward. “What about speculation that the airing of these tapes will anger Femnonymous, and provoke them into returning? You may have transitioned, whether willingly or not, but your policies have remained as misogynist as ever. Don't you worry that if Femnonymous do return, you might be high on their target list?”

“Target list?” The Senator repeated mechanically. The blood had drained from her face and she was fidgeting with the top button of her blouse. “Listen to me carefully and turn off that camera!” Madison nodded to Bryan and he lowered his equipment. “If you quote any of this, I will deny it. I don't know what's going to be on those tapes...or who is going to be on those tapes. If it is those producers, you're going to see them transformed into silicone messes for the entertainment of the masses. But if Femnonymous do come back because of this, it won't be me they go after. They will have their sights set much higher. They will have plans far beyond what your little brains could imagine...”

Whatever Happened to Dick? (Recasting Couch)

 This continues both my Femnonymous and Network stories, which have all previous parts on my index page. This is a flashback of Recasting Couch, which can be read here 

“You've got exactly five minutes!” The big breasted blonde woman ushered Madison and Bryan into her hotel room. “Do you know how many guys I could blow in that time?” She added coolly, bringing a pair of twin blushes to the reporters' cheeks. Bryan had his camera over one shoulder, 'Frontline Entertainment Media' printed along one side as well as on his t-shirt. On the way up he had got plenty of context shots of the hotel that had been overrun by young revellers since the onset of spring break, and now the film was full of drunken women baring their tits and douche bags chugging beer.

“Then I guess we'd better make this a quickie!” Madison said brightly, but they all knew the joke had fallen flat. Their interviewee, the former porn-magnate Dick Rising, and now, thanks to Femnonymous, viral sex-marathon bimbo, seemed disinterested. She was tightening the ties of her faux-leather bodysuit, which Bryan noted had open slits at the crotch and ass. Apparently un-phased by their presence, Dick grabbed a tube of lube and squirted a huge blob out onto his manicured hands before getting to work rubbing it furiously into both holes.

“I don't usually need this stuff, but when you're going for four digits over a long weekend, you need to look after yourself.” The bimbo explained flatly. “That's one thousand pricks!” She nodded to the once more blushing Bryan. “Do you think I am compensating for something?” She looked him dead in the eye and flicked her gooey fingers over her flat groin provocatively. “Happy for it to be one thousand one...”

“We're doing a piece on some of Femnonymous's victims.” Madison began nervously. “You know ahead of the premier of the lost Apprentits tapes. Ten years ago you were a successful producer...”

“And now I'm a filthy web whore having trains run on me by drunken students for content...” Dick snorted humourlessly. “Some would call that irony... I suppose your next question will be why do I put myself through this? Why not just disappear somewhere to be some quaint little farm girl? Well, Honey...I was born into this business...and I will damn likely die in it. It is all I know!”

“We just assumed Femnonymous messed with your libido like they did to some of the others.” Madison replied in shock. “We know about the throne. We know about what they did to you!”

“You don't know shit.” Dick scowled and raised a middle finger. “Look lady, I will tell you one more thing for free and then I got a long line of spring-breakers in balaclavas to screw. How many Network producers was it Femnonymous took? Six? It doesn't really matter. They don't exist any more. You think those latex bitches did a number on me? They were just getting started! They are going to make those producers a spectacle...and when they're through, their own mothers wouldn't know them from a silicone cum dumpster!”

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!”  

What If...Femnonymous Ran Society?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Whatever Happened to Alexander? (Flashback Friday)

Alexander first appeared in Meanwhile, Back in Mother Russia

Whatever Happened to Lance? (The Apprentits:Extreme)

CASTING CALL

Okay, so Season 3 is coming along slowly, mostly due to me concentrating on my novel writing, but I think I'm about ready to start work on the new Femnonymous hosted version of the Apprentits. The series will be six episodes with one character eliminated and bimbofied every week and so I need your character ideas for three men and three women. Last time I just did first come first served but I'm not doing that this time around. I will instead pick what I feel are the most interesting character ideas that I feel I can fit into the best possible story. I will however limit it to one character per person. Deadline in October 22^nd.

Either comment here, pm me or email zoligomyst@gmail.com

Zoli

The Network Presents... Mutually Assured Distraction Part 3

...and so draws to a close Season 2.

Season 3 will be called 'Reality TV Part 1' and will be around in good time featuring the first part of Femnonymous's Survivor-esque version of the Apprentits as well as continuations of the stories of the rest of my characters and some standalone stuff too. I will need some characters from you for the new extreme Apprentits but I will ask for those closer to the start of the season when I will be doing some promo stuff.

However, I must apologise now. Please don't expect season 3 as quickly as the other two. I am currently writing my first novel (non-tg) and while I initially thought I could separate the create processes and do both, that hasn't been the case and as a result, I have had to put my captioning on hold for a while and in all honesty I really need some time for some fresh ideas to form. Rest assured, I will be back when I'm ready.

Lots of love, Zoli x

Freebee

This follows directly on from the last Femnonymous cap, 'Build-a-Bimbo'

Build-a-Bimbo

The Fempire Strikes Back

Whatever Happened to Chris Clarke? (Flashback Friday)

Chris appeared in Deuce Part 1, Part 2

Lost (Identity)

The rest of the story

Forever...
...and ever...
...and always.
...and alone...
...and out...
...and found...
...cause...

Whatever Happened to p-l-richards? (Flashback Friday)

p-l-richards first appeared in Not a Request

Whatever Happened to Joe Belago? (Flashback Friday)

This week on Flashback Friday we revisit former gameshow host and newly crowned bimbo, Joe Belago. Last time we saw Joe he was losing badly on his own show Spot that Sissy, let's see what's happened since...

Featuring Joe - Spot that Sissy!! Part 4, Spot that Sissy!! Part 5

Femnonymous - Repent or Serve

Be warned!

Uncensored