The Last Time I Babysat Part 1

 Thank you for all your lovely comments. I am glad you are enjoying my captions

Babysitting wasn't a regular earner for me. In fact, I hadn't done it in years. But money is money and despite making quick bucks selling nudes of a few ex-girlfriends on OnlyFemmes, I was still hard up for cash. That's why when the text came asking if I would look after Rebecca one Saturday evening I said yes with no hesitation. It was a bit out of the blue. Rebecca had been a cute little kid when I had looked after her back in the day but that seemed like an age ago. Surely she was old enough to stay home by herself by now... Apparently not! Besides, what sealed the deal was her older sister. Christina was certified hot property and I feel no shame in telling you that I watched her getting ready to go out with her friends with my jaw on the floor every time I was round there. I even caught her coming out of the shower one time. Reading the babysitting offer back again on my phone, I hoped to God she still lived at home.

My prayers didn't go long unanswered as she opened the door to me moments after I pressed the doorbell. She was exactly as I remembered her – utterly gorgeous and it suddenly occurred to me that now I was in my twenties I might actually have a shot with her.

“Christina, wow! You look amazing!” I smiled at her. She seemed to blink with surprise but quickly regained her composure and invited me inside. Just like old times she appeared to be getting ready to go out and there was an open bottle of wine on the kitchen counter. She offered me a glass. “Sure,” I nodded trying to play it cool. “Where is Rebecca?”

“Around here somewhere,” Christina grinned handing me the drink. “You know what kids are like – they get everywhere they're not supposed to.” She watched intently as I took a long sip of wine and I tried to act like I did this kind of thing all the time. I managed right up until the room began to spin...

I awoke with a throbbing headache. Not only that but all the skin on my body felt like it was glowing – as if I had just pulled a giant band-aid off. Groggily, I rolled over to find Christina sitting over me with a razor in her hand.

“Shit!” she tossed the blade into a bowl of hot water next to a tangle of spent waxing strips. “Looks like I got the dosage wrong!” Before she could react, I stumbled to my feet. It was then I realised I was completely hairless from head to toe. Not only that but a pair of tight satin panties clung to my newly smooth backside. What the fuck was going on here?! I tried to run but my legs felt like jelly and the world sloshed around me with the after effects of whatever Christina had given me. I moved in the direction of what I thought was the door but giddily sprawled onto the sofa instead. Feebly, I tried to clamber over the back cushions to put furniture between myself and the crazy bitch that had drugged me. However, my burst of energy spent, I only succeeded in flopping forward and presenting my pantied butt pathetically in the air to my captor. “Bless you,” the girl giggled behind me, “but we're not done, not by a long SHOT!” There was a sharp pinch in my ass and then everything went black.

Neighbourhood Watch

 

“Remind me because I think I'm going giddy in my old age, but why do you shave their heads first?” Martha looked over the paraphernalia sprawled across Molly's kitchen table. Over the decades, the two women had shared many meals here, but now it was home to a cut-throat razor in a bowl of foamy water, a mug of tea with a saucer of freshly pruned leaves and of course, a make-up bag of epic proportions.

“Oh Martha...” Molly smiled sweetly at her dear friend. “Why, it's to help the wigs stick longer of course. The glue just sets so much better to the scalp than it does to hair. Besides, they could just cut that off, couldn't they?” She turned back to her project and gave the blank-faced boy a knowing look as she continued to work her pencil around his painted lips.

“Of course, silly me...” Martha chuckled as she admired her friend's work. “Wait, I know this one. Leo, isn't it? My granddaughter says he's a right nasty piece of work. Always taking money off the neighbourhood kids. Probably shoplifts too.”

“Oh, he's money motivated alright,” Molly sighed. “All I had to do was offer him money to cut my grass and you could practically see the dollar signs in his eyes. Probably had designs on my purse when my back was turned too. I know his sort. Plenty of them have come through this kitchen, as you know. A mug of my home-grown tea certainly made him more obedient.”

“He'll have a shock when he wakes up!” Martha reached over to stroke the bead necklace wrapped around the boy's neck. Her hand moved to the faux-fur jacket and then the shimmering twenties style ballgown. “Oh Molly, don't you remember when we used to dress up like this?”

“Oh, he's awake already,” Molly sat back so Martha could get a good look at Leo's vacant gaze. His eyes stared out lifelessly from behind layers upon layers of cosmetics and his bottom lip hung open as if weighed down by the pink gloss. “Can't you see the look in his eyes? My tea doesn't put you to sleep. It just makes you compliant. Leo here is aware of everything but can do nothing. Hence the wide-eyed 'dying on the inside' look. I'm just finishing up and then I'll send him off home. By the time he regains control, half the neighbourhood will have seen him.”

“Do you think he will learn his lesson?”

“I'm not sure it matters,” Molly put the pencil back it her giant makeup bag. “After his parade home no one is going to take him seriously as a bully ever again. Besides, like I said, the glue sets really nicely to the scalp, the makeup is my permanent stuff and there's always this little trick...” The old woman pulled out a tube of glue from a fold in her apron and squeezed it liberally over the zippers on the back of dress and the fronts of the high-heeled shoes housing Leo's feet. “He'll still be in this dress by the time he gets to our age,” she joked. “Won't look half as good though...”

Mirror, Mirror...

 Thank you for making me feel so welcome to be back

Michael gazed into the hand-mirror for the ninetieth time that day and for the ninetieth time that day, he didn't recognise the face staring back at him. The sweet little nose, the delicate chin, the exquisite cheekbones – all expertly crafted works of art, things of pure beauty...but none of them were his. Like much of the rest of his body, they were the result of state-of-the-art enhancements from the finest surgeons in the country. His body had been cut up and crafted into something spectacular by leaders in their fields. The problem was Michael didn't want any of it. Same as how he didn't want the sheer nightgowns, or the designer lingerie or even his pink painted nails. He didn't want it at all. But the mirror did. And that was all that mattered...

The hand-mirror had been a Mother's Day gift. He had been searching all day for a present for his Mom when he stumbled upon a boutique on the edge of town. The mirror had called out to him from the front window of Gloria Honeypot's Emporium of Fun and Folly and he knew he had found what he was looking for. Little did he realise at that moment that the mirror too had found its target.

Michael's mother never did receive her present. Just one look into the silvery glass was enough to lock him in. One glance and he was immediately compelled like some kind of jewellery box marionette to create something worth reflecting back. Merely a passenger behind his eyes, he had observed his body as it slipped into a nearby store and purchased cosmetics and a lacy dress. He wanted to scream as his feet marched him home to try on his new wares in front of the mirror. More than anything else, the compulsion to look at his own reflection was overwhelming. That night he had watched on in horror as the hand-mirror like some kind of demanding mistress forced him to dress himself up – constantly checking how he looked in its gleaming face as if he were being inspected. If only it had stopped at that...

The mirror clearly had loftier ambitions for whom should be allowed to stare into it. Michael looked on in dread from within his own betraying flesh as his body emptied his savings on a more complete wardrobe overhaul and then began to schedule appointments with doctors about hormone treatments and finally even surgical operations. Over the past six months he must have seen his reflection a million times and each time it looked different – softer, more feminine, strikingly beautiful even. Finally after half a year, all he had to show of his old life was an empty bank account in his own name and a tiny bald cock shrivelled by multiple rounds of hormone therapy...

There was a loud thumping on his apartment door and Michael looked away from his reflection at last. His heart began to pound and his arm involuntarily placed the mirror carefully down on the dresser. Suddenly he longed to be back standing in the middle of his room staring at his refection. It was at least better that what was about to happen. As he reached to open the door, he knew he would be looking at his face again in that glass shortly – only when he did it would be glazed in the cum of the man standing at his door.  

New Orders

 So it's been a while, eh? Almost eighteen months... I'm really sorry about that. I got a pretty big promotion this time last year and simply put, I just don't have the time and energy to work on these big interwoven 25 caption seasons anymore...let alone the caption a day thing I had going on in like 2015. I'm much more inclined right now to do some online gaming right now after a long day at work rather than yet work sitting in front of a computer typing.

That said, how about we change things up so that this doesn't fade into the sands of time. I can't promise season after season of content. But, I can manage a caption a week. How about Missy Mondays? That's a thing. right? Well, it is now! I hope you enjoy, and love you always.

zoli

ames looked at the screen in confusion. A browser was open to the home page of retail titan, Glamazon, and even though he was clearly logged in, his store credit balance was showing as zero. What the hell?! He needed that money! Badly! Times were tough and he and his girlfriend, Sophia, were struggling to make rent as it was. They simply couldn't afford for credit they had planned to spend on basics to go missing like that. Frantically he clicked into his account page and his profile flashed up. Suddenly it all made sense as he realised what had happened and he let out an audible sigh. However, his relief quickly faded to horror as the full understanding of what it meant materialised.

James had a second Glamazon account – one that Sophia didn't know about. Money was scarce and the belt was tight but that didn't mean the temptation of online shopping went away. So, whenever James wanted to defy his frugal partner and treat himself, he logged into his second account and scheduled some orders to arrive when he knew she would be out. Fool proof, as long as he always remembered to log himself out – and as long as his order history didn't include a bunch of forced-feminisation ebooks he absolutely didn't want Sophia to know about. Wondering how obvious it was he had purchased the erotica, he clicked onto his orders page and his heart pounded in his chest as it quickly became clear his girlfriend had already seen it.

Another thing that was clear was the sexy lingerie Sophia had ordered on his account was meant for James – the inclusion of blonde hair-extensions and high heels in his size made sure of this. What was less obvious was how his girlfriend planned to get him into said underwear. He assumed she would blackmail him with his smut collection, in which case he would just refuse and deny everything. If only...

“Sweetheart, stop hiding,” Sophia taunted him from behind, “I want to make sure all our neighbours see what a hot little sissy you make. Don't make me tighten that corset even more!” James gulped and forced himself to totter in front of their large arched window. He could barely breathe as it was and the skin on the small of his back was pinching under the white satin. Surely people in all the other houses on the street had seen him by now. He felt totally exposed in every direction – the glass, his bare waxed skin...even the sheer panties packaging his ass cheeks up for his girlfriend's appreciation. “Come on, sissy, give me my money's worth!” James glanced back with a bruised expression at the mention of their finances. Sophia had never had any intention of keeping his secret. Instead she emptied his bank account via his Glamazon account on a collection of sexy and suggestive outfits. If he didn't like it, he could leave. Not that there was anywhere he could go without a penny to his name. Sophia's name was on the rental contract and so she effectively owned him if he wanted a roof over his head. “Come on, my slutty whore,” Sophia sneered at him, “I want everyone to see my sissy wife to be. I wanted you to buy we a ring but instead you spent all our money on sissy porn so consider this our engagement, only I'm not asking and I won't be the one wearing a dress down the aisle!” James's knees knocked within their silk stockings as he began to understand just how much his dirty little secret was a secret no more...

What If...Femnonymous Ran Society?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What if...the Artist Revived the Network?

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

zoli

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

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

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

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

What if...Aiko was the Mannequeen?

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

zoli

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

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

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

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

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