Director's Cut

 

“Look, guys...this is all a big mistake...” Kirk backed away from the two huge men. Both were totally naked, cocks like small veiny arms swinging between their legs. His ass bumped into a classroom desk and his arms shot back to catch himself. Like everything else in the room, it was a prop, and he forced a sheepish grin at the two guys. He had to get out of here – not just this room, but out of this bodysuit before things got any more out of hand. Even as his glossy red lips stretched wide in an empty grin, he was cursing his need to know the truth. Curiosity kills cats but it was about to do a lot worse to his newly acquired pussy if he didn't make a hasty exit.

“You will need to talk to the director about any changes to the scene.” One of the walking erections shrugged. “We just do as we're told...screw who we're told.” He smirked. Kirk nodded back, his whole body trembling. The suit's small breasts trembled with him and not for the first time in the hellish last twenty minutes, he marvelled at its realism. There was no wonder the two guys were looking at him like a hot cooked dinner, he looked exactly like a real fake schoolgirl and the experience felt as real as he looked.

“I can wait!” He replied in a light churlish whisper. Time seemed to slow down and for the first time in months, the idea that Lorna might be cheating on him was the least of his problems. Lorna was his girlfriend and until a few months ago, everything had been going great. Then she started going out at odd times of the night, coming back smelling...strange. Like sex? Kirk was sure it was another guy so one night he had followed her to a small warehouse on the edge of town. It was immediately obvious it was some kind of studio and Lorna had entered through some double doors and then another that had a sign “Actresses Only”. Unsure what to do next, Kirk had spied a rack of what looked like woman on clothes hangers. They were bodysuits, he had realised. He had read about them online – they were ultra-realistic costumes for perverts and anyone who needed to be someone else temporarily – as he had right then. Making a snap decision, he had grabbed the first bodysuit on the rack and taken it into a closet to stretch over his body.

“Here she comes.” One of the men that Kirk had come to realise were porn actors said. Finally, he thought. He could already feel the bodysuit's pocket pussy slowly expanding into his ass. Not only that, but he could not walk in these ridiculous boots. The image of being carted off to hospital like this flashed in his mind.

“I see you've chosen to use one of our bodysuits for the scene.” The woman behind the camera nodded. “That's fine. I get it. A lot of girls want to be able to work without worrying about friends and family seeing them online. Just know we deduct a small fee from your payment.” Kirk gulped. It was Lorna. She wasn't cheating on him. She was a freaking porn director. “Ready to start?”

“I...” The words wouldn't come. If he came clean now, their relationship was as good as over. If he said he no longer wanted to do the scene, he would have to return the suit right there and she would find out it was him – surely ending their relationship. He had to buy some time to come up with a plan. But how? “Alright...” He stammered weakly. “Let's do it.”

“Great!” Lorna smiled, adjusting the camera. “Let's start with you over there by the teacher's desk. Lance will be fucking your mouth and Steve will come in to get his hall pass signed. Then they will Eiffel Tower you over the desk and we'll go from there...”

Whatever Happened to Frank? (Come Together)

 Today's Flashback Friday is a for a two part story I wrote nearly 12 years ago. You can find it here. Part 1 Part 2

Frank slid slowly into Louise and she moaned softly. She was mounted on top of him and juddered with pleasure as he reached for her platform heels to pull her closer – her cries reaching almost hysteria. This was always the most painful part – hearing her choreographed ecstasy, hot and balmy in his ear. He was sure she was enjoying this on some level – it wasn't all fake, yet he was just a prop to her. In the corner of the room, the camera watched on – an audience of one broadcasting to thousands.

Frank and Louise's couples therapy had not been successful. They had escaped that charade with little dignity and nothing of the promised repair to their marriage, and within a year they had agreed to separate. The problem was neither of them could afford it. Their savings spent trying to save their relationship, Frank couldn't afford to move out and rent his own place, and Louise didn't have the income to keep paying the mortgage without his help. They were stuck.

Six months later Louise opened an OnlyFemmes account. She didn't ask Frank's permission. She didn't need it. Desperate to move on with her life, she resorted to posting softcore nude content online that grew decidedly less soft as the subscribers failed to come – pun intended. Short on ideas, she brought all sorts of props into her content. She even filmed a video wearing one of the awful pink wigs from the couples therapy she had somehow held onto. That was when she received a DM from someone claiming to have seen the film with the double ended dildo that had been shot during the fake therapy. The sender offered big bucks for more content with her 'sister'.

Frank told himself it was the money that convinced him to take part, but deep down he knew it was the chance to be close to Louise again. He even agreed to take the hormone pills to make his body look soft and curvy under the fussy lens of the camera. They worked wonders and once his body was waxed and groomed he looked every inch the lithe and sexy 'sister' Louise's OnlyFemmes promised.

Louise grew her hair and dyed it hot pink and so Frank got to wear the wig for every shoot now. He wore other things too – sexy underwear and towering heels, but worst of all was the sheath. The hormones had shrunk his manhood to a laughable parody and he was supposedly Louise's female sibling anyway, so in many of their videos he wore a rubber prosthetic over his shrivelled cock to pleasure his ex-wife with – such was the case for today's clip. Louise was grinding onto him furiously now, her weight pushing his transformed body into the soft velvet of the couch. She teased him with a nipple between his parted pink lips, yet when her eyes met his, they were cold. He was just a means to an end to her – a prop. He was the pathetic embodiment of the fake dick he was screwing her with. Frank knew he wasn't stuck any more. They had made good money from the OnlyFemmes account. He could leave anytime he wanted. And yet, as Louise forced his face into her breasts and bucked her way to a screaming orgasm in his lap, he knew he never would....   

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.

 

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.

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!”

 

Rules of Disengagement Part 3

 

And so Michael and Sara were reunited, alas with a brand new dynamic to their relationship. As unable to satisfy her as he had been as a man, he was more than equipped to do so as her sissy. Sara was not a natural dominant even though she knew the sight of Michael's humiliation made her tremble in ways he had never managed before, and so Steph was more than willing to train her sister how to embarrass, debase and degrade the man in her life. She no longer lived with them, but she was always on hand to lend her advice, her firm hand across Michael's backside or even her used panties for his afternoon snack.

And what choice did Michael have? The circumstances of his housing situation hadn't changed and he was glad to have Steph out of his home – at least most of the time. Sara didn't detest him as Steph did. She even loved him again in a weird way. But things were not as they once were by any stretch of the imagination. The dress had become his uniform and Steph had supplied a collection of equally humiliating alternatives. Michael never did find out what became of his actual clothes. He was able to move out of the basement and back into the bedroom but even that wasn't the blessing it might have been. As Sara got better at being dominant, it just meant that his submission was more complete, his fiancee able to play her games with him all night as well as during the day.

It was on such a day that Steph visited her sister to give a graduation of sorts to her apprentice. Michael was in his familiar cotton dress, his butt throbbing from an impromptu after breakfast spanking Sara had decided to dish out and his hair itching underneath his wig. Soon it would be long enough that he wouldn't need the wig and Sara had promised to use her big wooden brush on it instead of just his backside.

“He is yours! He must learn to recognise your taste!” Steph was explaining to Sara. Both woman stood before Michael in watching pencil skirts that had been unzipped at the back to expose their pert arses. Both had removed their panties and Michael's cheeks were bulging like a hamster to hold them in his mouth. “Merely sniffing will not do – it will not be enough. If he is to be your sissy, he must inhale you fully. He must breathe you deep into his lungs.” Steph ordered Michael to lie on the floor, explaining that the sofa was too good for him, and told Sara to stand over him. She did so before slowly lowering herself onto Michael's face. Once her bare ass was firmly straddling him, she released herself and let out a long loud fart. He wanted to cough and spit out the panties but she remained mounted atop him, holding him in place. Another fart followed, and another and another and Michael thought he might suffocate. He felt hands pulling at the waistband of his panties and realised in his darkness that they must be Steph's. His cock was pulled free and hope rose in his chest briefly until he heard a soft click as something tight and hard was fastened around his genitals. “Now he is truly yours!” Steph whispered triumphantly as Sara sat back to press her ass down as she ripped a final and longest fart right up Michael's nose.  

Doll House Arrest Part 3 [COMMISSION]

 

Lola had been the one to wear stripes criss-crossing a tiny mini-dress. She hummed like it was Christmas morning. “Showtime, doll,” she whispered following a stern knock on the door. Frank’s gut clenched.

The door swung open, revealing Detective Finn Collier - young, straight=laced, and his mouth dropped open at the sight of the two beautiful blondes. His eyes flicked from Lola to Frank, and then quickly away, as if staring too long might burn him.“Afternoon, ladies,” Finn said, already fumbling his notepad. “We’re following up on our search for a fugitive.” His gaze darted to Frank again, then skittered away. “I believe one of you was in a relationship with him?”

Lola gasped theatrically, clutching Frank’s hand. “That was such a long time ago. I have moved onto better things now...though I still swing both ways, you know?” She winked and glanced surreptitiously at the studio apartment's double bed.

Finn’s cheeks turned scarlet. “No, miss, I— I didn’t mean—” Frank fought to keep his face neutral. His palms were sweating. Lola’s nails dug warningly into his still clutched palm.

He forced a nervous laugh. “We, uh… we’ve just been keeping to ourselves.” His voice sounded higher, softer than he remembered. Lola had drilled him for a week, and damn it, it worked.

“Oh, yes, how rude of me,” Lola said sweetly, squeezing Frank’s hand even harder. “This is my girlfriend. My everything.” She turned to Frank, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Aren’t you, darling?” Lola leaned forward giving Finn an eyeful of cleavage. “You seem tense, detective. Are we making you nervous? Because we could help with that.” She smirked wickedly, pulling her hand from Frank and swatted him hard across the ass. She then slid an arm around his shoulders. “We’re very… accommodating.”

Frank forced what he thought was a flirtatious grin as his last bit of dignity trickled away . His heart hammered in his chest and Lola’s nails grazed the back of his neck. He forced a shaky wink at Finn. “She’s… not kidding. We, um, like to have fun.”

Finn nearly dropped his pen. “Oh! I—uh—no, that’s— I mean, I should go—” He nearly tripped over his feet, as he turned to the door “Thank you for your time, ladies. You’ve been very helpful.”

Lola waved sweetly as he bolted out the door. The moment it shut, she collapsed into hysterical laughter, clutching her stomach. “Oh, sugarplum! Did you see his face? He thought he’d walked into his wildest dream—or his worst nightmare!”

Frank slumped back, trembling. His reflection in the mirror across the room mocked him: flawless makeup, long lashes, glossy toned legs extending from a patterned figure hugging minidress. He was no longer a fugitive No longer even a man. Just a doll. Lola's doll.

Lola cupped his chin, forcing him to meet her glittering eyes. “See? You pulled it off. You’re all mine now. I can tell the world who you are and they will believe me. You want me to tell them you're my doll...or something else...?”

Frank felt the last of his fight drain away. He was perfectly trapped. “No... I'm your doll...” he whispered.

Doll House Arrest Part 2 [COMMISSION]

Frank adjusted the hem of the dress for the fifth time that morning, though it didn’t need it. The shiny fabric clung like it had been painted on, showing every contour he’d rather forget he now had. His legs — smooth and tanned, looked like they belonged to somebody else entirely. His reflection in the mirror didn’t look like a fugitive. It looked like a woman about to cause a traffic accident.

He groaned. “I don’t know who that is, but it’s not me.”

Behind him, Lola squealed and clapped like a proud mother. “Oh, it’s you, sugarplum. The real you. My vision, brought to life. My doll! You’re a masterpiece. Admit it.” She circled him like he was a museum piece, tugging at his hair extensions, smoothing his foundation. “Do you hear any sirens? No? That’s because nobody’s looking for a big bad bank robber anymore. They’re looking for John Doe with a shotgun. Not Jessica Rabbit in stilettos.”

Frank winced at his own reflection. A week ago he’d been a man on the run. Now he looked like a centerfold. He hated how convincing it was. Even more, he hated that part of him understood exactly what Lola meant.“This is insane,” he said, softer this time. “I can’t stay like this forever.”

“You’ll stay like this until I’m finished,” Lola sang, twirling past him to pluck a leather purse from the dresser. “And when will that be, you ask? When I’m bored. Which, spoiler alert, is never. You’re mine. My doll, my girlfriend, my—” She leaned close to hand him the purse, her eyes psychotically giddy to Harley Quinn proportions, lips brushing his ear. “—perfect alibi.”

Frank stiffened. “Alibi?”

She smiled, wide and unblinking. “Oh, I didn't mention? Tomorrow, a detective is coming over to ask little old me if I’ve seen a certain dangerous fugitive ex of mine. Isn’t that exciting?”

Frank’s stomach dropped. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, but I am!” She kissed his cheek, leaving a smudge of lipstick. “And when the nice detective walks through that door, do you know what he’ll see? Not Frank the bank robber. Not my runaway coward. He’ll see my stunning girlfriend. Polished. Perfect. Untouchable.”

Frank stared at the door, expecting in to burst open any moment – police filling the room. “Lola, if I slip up—”

She shushed him with a manic giggle. “You won’t. Because if you do, darling… you’ll go to prison. And between you and me? Stripes don't suit you.” She flitted toward the mirror again, admiring the two of them side by side — her in her bubblegum robe, him in the glossy figure hugging dress. “Tomorrow, sugarplum, you make your debut. And if you’re a good girl…” She winked. “I might even let you pick the earrings.”

Frank felt his stomach twist into knots. Tomorrow. The cops. Despite what Lola said about them being together, he was completely alone – with so much to hide...and what chance did he have if she kept putting him in such revealing outfits...

 

Doll House Arrest Part 1 [COMMISSION]

 A commission I did on DeviantArt

Frank adjusted his position on the floor, tugging at the top of a shiny high-heeled leather boot that stretched right over his knee. “This,” he growled, “is not a disguise. This is entrapment.”

Across from him, Lola lounged in a silk robe the color of radioactive bubblegum, sipping wine at ten in the morning. Her eyes gleamed like she’d won the lottery. “Oh, hush. Nobody’s looking for a sexy blonde with great calves,” she said. “This is a safe house!”

“This is a doll's house!” Frank threw her a look. “ And you’re insane.”

“Correction,” she chirped, leaning forward so her robe slipped suggestively. “I’m an artist. And you, darling, are my medium. I always said you’d look great with a ponytail. You just never listened. Besides where else were you going to go?”

Frank groaned knowing she was right, burying his cosmetic laden face in his hands. “This is exactly why I left you. You were trying to turn me into your...your plaything. It was like an obsession. It was like...like...”

“Foreplay,” she said. “And then you ran out on me mid-project. Very rude.”

“Can't you at least take this seriously, you crazy bitch!” Frank sat up, snapping, “I robbed a bank, Lola. The cops are everywhere. I didn’t exactly have a choice where to hide.”

“Oh, so I’m your last resort?” she said, pretending to pout, then grinned wickedly. “Romantic...for me... To you it is survival. And survival, sugarplum, costs extra.” She tapped her wineglass. “Let’s talk about that money you're going to share. You know? That big bag of cash in my kitchen. You ran out on me Frank, no postcard, no flowers, not even a text. And now—poof!—here you are, desperate... begging for my hospitality...well, you are going to have to pay for it!”

Frank stiffened. “You're not getting a dime!”

Her laugh was high and musical, but her eyes never blinked. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s all mine. I’m keeping you out of prison. That’s a full-service package. Besides”—she flicked a lock of his blonde hair behind one ear—“this is just phase one. Doll-making isn’t cheap.”

Frank glared at her. “You can’t be serious.” She pulled out her phone and snapped a picture before he could stop her.

“Insurance policy. If you get any clever ideas, imagine this on Instagram...or OnlyFemmes. ‘Bank Robber Chic’.” She giggled so hard she snorted, then clapped her hands. “Oh, I missed this. I missed us. You squirming, me improving you. Just like old times.” Lola leaned in close, her perfume a heady sugar rush. She patted his knee, nails clicking. “Now rest up, doll. Tomorrow, we get serious. You didn't think we were going to stop at a pair of pretty boots and a woollen peacoat did you? Especially not now I have a shopping budget!””

Hood Ornament [COMMISSION]

 This was DeviantArt commission

“Wasn't there some guy who tried this already?” Devon squirmed in place. He was trying to rest himself on the truck in a way that supported him without burning his bare skin on the sun-beaten chrome. “OnlyFemmes I mean – didn't he pose as his girlfriend or sister or something, and she ended up putting some kind of sissy bounty on him?”

“Don't give me ideas,” Haley, his long-suffering girlfriend, spat, pointing the camera at him, “I still need to pay off that lemon,” she nodded at the flame-streaked vintage truck Devon had spent their entire savings on, “the last thing I need is to pay off some crazy bitch with whips and chains for punishing my idiot boyfriend – as tempting as it is...”

The sun continued to blaze and Devon brushed the bangs of his wig aside to wipe sweat from his brow before it could streak his makeup. The last thing he needed was another hour in front of Haley's mirror while she repainted his face.

“Hey!” He called, suddenly realising something, “shouldn't I be wearing sunscreen? Just seems like after all that plucking and waxing you did, my skins gotta be like super sensitive.”

“Look,” Haley rolled her eyes, “if we're going to be rubbing anything into your skin, it is 100% being filmed for content. Now, pull that swimsuit up a bit higher up your ass – really show off the goods! That's it – now lift up your heels as if you were in stilettos and push out your butt. Nice!” She snapped a dozen pictures in quick succession. “Our subscribers are going to love that!”

“Our subscribers!?” Devon grimaced. Haley's swimsuit was much too small and was wedged uncomfortably between his cheeks. “I don't see you here, half naked and humiliating yourself for...content...”

“That's because I didn't spend all our savings on a supposed vintage truck that doesn't even run. What was it you called it? An asset?” Haley shook her head with derision at the vehicle and her feminised boyfriend together. “Looks like I am photographing all of your assets today... The guy who sold you that thing must be able to spot a sucker a mile off...now there's an idea!” She put the camera down and grinned cruelly. “Stay there while I go and get my dildo. How is your gag reflex by the way?”

Devon groaned. He was starting to miss the idea of the car wash scene Haley had had planned. Frollicking in soapy water sounded like bliss compared to having her sextoy between his painted lips. He just worried where else it would go when Haley found out the money he had paid for the truck was just the down payment. 

Whatever Happened to Edward? (Flashback Friday)

 Happy Friday!! Today we're flashing back to June 2015 and catching up with Edward Pool. See, I can be nice sometimes. The calm before the storm maybe...? Ted Talks was a five part series and you can find the original captions here... Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 and Part 5

It might be the end of the week but some things just go on a bit too long. This is true for noone more than the subject of today's flashback. When his co-worker and rival, Gloria, injected him with a serum that gave him a high-pitched feminine voice, Edward was faced with the choice of dropping out of the race to become the next National Sales Manager of South Carolina Asset Management or embrace his brand new soft-sponkenness and go to the industry's annual convention as a female alter-ego. Obviously, he chose the former and things spiraled out of control leaving Ted with a long term role in Vegas as a blonde bombshell. Five years have passed so let's see how things turned out...

Edward Pond never did make National Sales Manager at S.C.A.M.. Not that he would shed any tears. In fact, he actually turned the position down. His assignment courting the company's most important clients in Vegas was a roaring success – so much so that it was extended...and extended...and extented, giving Edward a run on the strip to rival Celine Dion. Sparkling glitz, it turned out, was the perfect companion to his silver tongue and being constantly on stage in gaudy outfits, he noticed something surprising – he was beginning to feel comfortable with that.

When Madison, Edward's gorgeous secretary, finally placed the National Sales Manger job offer on his desk, it came with a raft of other opportunities from head-hunters who wanted the skills and charm of his glamorous alter-ego. The chance to travel extensively and earn a seven figure salary came with the caveat he be making much more use of his acquired ability of walking in high-heels. Madison watched as he wrestled with the decision and quietly placed another sheet of paper on his desk...

"Do...re...mi...fa...cough...do...re...mi.." Edward put a manicured hand to his neck and cleared his throat once more. "Do...re...mi..." Even after all these years, his surgically altered voice still sounded alien to him. No more than when he was trying to warm up for a speech. He pursed his painted red lips and sighed. It was the first sales conference in six months and he was nervous. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen so many people in a room together. With shaking hands, he peeked beyond the curtain at the sprawling rows of faces and went back to checking his outfit, his speech notes and warming up his voice. "Do...re...mi.."

"You're going to be fine," the exquisite looking Madison strolled over to his backstage hiding place and smiled widely. "You look amazing in that outfit by the way." She looked up and down approvingly at his expensive white dress. "Here, perhaps this will help you calm down." She stepped towards him, wrapped her arms around the back of his head and pulled him into a deep passionate kiss. Nearby a roadie knocked over a ladder at the apparent sight of the two women making out. Edward's breathing relaxed and he thought for not the first time how taking this job had been the right choice. Madison ended the kiss and he gazed into her eyes. Not that it had been the only proposal on his desk he had accepted that day in Vegas...

Life Swap

 22/25

Joe tried desperately to disappear into the red leather of the studio couch – away from the gaping mouth of his wife, from the lipsticked smirk of the show's presenter, and from the spellbound studio audience and the big screen playing out the events of the last two weeks. Try as he might, he only succeeded in making time pass even more slowly – not that it mattered, soon the taping would hit millions of tv screens across the nation and his humiliation would be immortalised forever.

Joe and his wife, Louise, were contestants on the now dated tv show, Wife Swap. The concept was as simple as it was mundane, an antiquated product of daytime television where two happy couples from different backgrounds would trade partners for two weeks and then report back to the studio in a final confrontation to talk about their experiences and what they had learned from them. Joe and Louise had been paired with a couple of pig farmers and Joe had felt a secret exaltation, believing country women to be subservient and homely. Now, as he cringed in the studio, he couldn't believe how wrong he had been.

The first week of the exchange routinely put the men in charge of their own homes and gave them authority to rule their castles as they saw fit. Joe made full use of the opportunity to have Heather, the wife of his fellow contestant, wait on him hand and foot – cooking, cleaning, bringing him beer and even rubbing his feet, all while he sat in front of the tele belching orders. To Heather's credit, she had fulfilled the tasks dutifully and without comment. Joe now realised that she had been biding her time, plotting what was to come. The second week rolled around and it was all change. It was the wives' turn to rule the roost and Joe's nightmare had begun.

Joe heard his wife let out a loud snort of laughter from next to him on the red sofa, her eyes glued to the big screen where a twenty-foot Joe shimmied awkwardly around his living room in a latex maid's uniform. Joe still bore the bruises from the cuffs that had shackled his ankles, from the high-heels that had tortured his feet and from the dildo gag that had brutalised his gums, but most of all, he still suffered the mortal injury to his pride that could only come from being trussed up, stuffed in a rubber dress and forced to clean his own house for an entire seven days. Louise stifled a gasp with her hand as she watched her husband push his stockinged knees together and struggle to pick a pair of satin panties from the floor. Joe was praying the audience had already forgotten the scene five minutes before where Heather had introduced him to his new underwear collection.

“So, Louise, what do you think of this new side of your husband?” the presenter grinned as the montage came to an end.

Louise winked at Joe and the camera zoomed in as he realised the balance of their relationship was shifting forever. “Oh, I think it is a side of him I am going to see much more often. That is, if he doesn't want me to sign us up for 'Wife Swap – Revisited. If he resists, I'm sure another week with Heather would do the trick.”

Lucky Miss

 19/25

“Not bad, right?!” Jenny beamed with pride at the sight of her newly transformed boyfriend. She carefully placed her wand back in its box and handed him her phone so he could use the camera to admire her handywork.

“Not bad at all!” Mark grinned through plump pink lips. He raised the camera above eye level and brushed blonde locks behind his ears, making kissy faces and snapping some selfies from his position on the step. He glanced down and spotted the fleshy globes squeezed into the faux leather dress he was wearing and angled the camera for a closer look.

“Enough of that.” Jenny snatched her phone back. “I paid for this online witchcraft course for me, not for your perverted mind.”

Mark pouted in mock offence. “Well if you turn me into the girl of my dreams, what do you expect?” He batted his eyelashes at her.

“I thought I was the girl of your dreams,” she sighed. “And don't think I haven't noticed that choker, mister. I don't know everything that goes on your filthy mind but we're gonna have words about that once I turn you back.”

“Oh, come on,” he teased, “you're as dirty minded as it gets,” he rubbed his voluptuous body sexily, “now, how about you turn me back to the man of your dreams so that I can show you?”

“The spell to turn you back isn't until week 7!” She savoured the horror on his face for a second. “Oh, don't worry,” she laughed, “it's an online course so all the lessons are available on demand. Wait a second..” She poked at the touch screen of her phone. “Uh oh...”

“Uh oh?” Mark's lips dropped into an O and suddenly the dress felt about two sizes tighter.

“It says that due to the ongoing crisis the course has been discontinued and only the first five lessons are available.”

Mark made a terrified squeak and clenched his buttcheeks around a pair of thong panties. “So...so I'm stuck like this?” he stammered as his girlfriend continued to scroll down the page. Suddenly, her frown loosened into a relieved smile and Mark's heart slowed to a more normal rate.

“Oh wow,” Jenny sighed. “I was scared for a moment...but it says here that I am guaranteed a full refund. Lucky me, right?”

Wish You Were Her Part 2

From Good to Worse Part 4

From Good to Worse Part 3

From Good to Worse Part 2

From Good to Worse Part 1

Why did the Sissy Cross the Road?