Marco Shrugged

 

Image Description: A young woman with long dark brown hair crouches next to a window with her hands near her face. She has a hesitant, innocent expression on her face. She is wearing a frilly turquoise dress with the bustier pulled down to expose her large breasts. She has a black choker around her neck, thigh-high white stockings, and clear high-heeled shoes. She has a moderately-sized erect cock sticking out from under her little skirt, with a silver ring around her cock and balls. 

Caption: It started so simply. 

“Marco, have you ever thought about growing your hair out?”  Stacy asked. “We’ve got this new nanite tonic at the lab that speeds up hair growth. You can change it back if you don’t like it.” 

Marco shrugged, so Stacy brought home the tonic. Within a week, his hair was thicker and fuller than it had been in years, and came down between his shoulder blades. Some of the guys gave him shit for how girly it looked, but he kind of liked it. And Stacy really seemed to like it, brushing it and braiding it for him. 

A few weeks later, she said. “You know how you were talking about your family history of skin cancer? Well, we’ve got this new treatment that’s supposed to reduce your risk and clear up blemishes and calluses. You can stop using it if youdon’t like it.” 

Marco shrugged, so Stacy brought home the treatment. After just a few days, his skin was so much softer and more sensitive, and almost free of defects. The guys at work didn’t really notice, but Marco found his body hair so itchy that he kept shaving it all off. It was okay, he really liked how his complexion looked now.

Then, a few days later, Stacy said, “You know, if you want to stop shaving, we have this depilatory cream. It’s basically side-effect free, but if you don’t like it, you can stop using it.”

Marco shrugged, so Stacy brought home the cream. It was so much easier than shaving, and his skin felt so much smoother and less irritated. He liked it so much that he even started using it on his face. It saved him a bunch of time in the mornings, even if one of the guys at work said he looked like a baby now. 

One night, lying alongside him in bed, Stacy traced a finger along his smooth skin and said, “You’re so nice and smooth now. Have you ever thought about dressing up a little? We don’t have to do it if you don’t like it.”

Marco shrugged, so Stacy bought him a few pieces of clothing. He felt silly at first, stumbling in heels and trying to get his stockings to stay up, but Stacy enjoyed it. And eventually Marco liked it enough to wear the stockings and panties under his pants at work a couple of times. 

“You know, we’ve been testing these body-shaping nanites at work. You apply them to clothing, and they reshape your body to fit what you’re wearing. There’s this silver control ring that you put around anything you want the nanites to leave alone. I thought maybe we could try it. It’s totally reversible, so if you don’t like it, we can change you back.” 

Marco shrugged, so Stacy brought home the nanite spray. Marco started with the stockings, feeling his muscular legs made smooth and lithe by the nanites, feeling the heels shape his feet into dainty curves. 

He lost a couple inches of height, but he didn’t mind. The next day, he put the control ring around his genitals and tried on the panties. He could tell that people at work were looking at him strangely, but he liked the way his wide new hips and bubble butt swayed when he walked. He took a few days vacation to try on the bustier that drew his waist in and made his chest fill out, and the choker necklace that softened his face and raised his voice. He thought he looked gorgeous, and Stacy clearly agreed. 

A few days later, Stacy asked, ”Marco, have you ever thought about taking off the control ring?"

Commentary: This is more of a feminization/"sissy" caption than I usually do, and I hope I explained the tech well enough to sell the ending, but I think it came out pretty well. 

User Experience

Image Description: A woman stands in a featureless room. She has long strawberry blonde hair that covers her otherwise bare breasts. She has one well-manicured hand on her hip, and the other on her thigh. She is wearing only a silver ring on her left middle finger and a small circular silver shield over her groin, held in place with a thin silver chain.

Caption: “Why did you change my character designs?” Audrey demanded, barging into Felix’s office.
“Marketing thought your female warrior design was unattractive.”
“She’s a barbarian. She isn’t supposed to be attractive, she’s supposed to be a badass.”
“That’s a pretty sexist attitude. Attractive women can be badasses.”
“You made her into a stick-thin sex object in a metal bikini! Her armor is totally impractical! It doesn’t provide actual protection!”
“Sure it does, it has the same stats as the male armor. And the male characters are sexualized too, just look at all their muscles! Besides, we have to make certain aesthetic choices. For realism.”
“It’s a fantasy game!”
“So why does it matter if she has ‘practical’ armor? You’re just not making sense, Audrey. I think you’re too emotionally invested.”
She glared at him, then sighed in frustration and stomped out.

When Felix woke, he brushed long hair out of his face with a willowy, manicured hand. Looking around, it only took him a moment to recognize the surroundings. After all, he’d been looking at them for over a year now. He was in the game! Level 1!

A note had been coded into a nearby wall: “I’ve given it some more thought, and you’re totally right. In fact, I made some more badass aesthetic adjustments that I think you’ll really enjoy! Make it to the end of the game, and we’ll talk about your user experience after.

- Audrey”

Commentary: At one point I had a different idea for this picture, and I might get around to doing it at some point...

Potty Training

Image Description: Three women are standing in a bedroom, bent over a bed, next to a wastebasket. All three have their pants pulled down slightly to expose their oversized diapers. The two girls on the left have one hand on their diapers, as if in distress. The girl on the left has brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, and is wearing a gray sweatshirt, a pink shirt underneath, a blue diaper, dark gray pants, and bright pink socks. The girl in the middle has long blonde hair, a gray hoodie with writing on the back, a purple shirt underneath, a blue diaper, purple capris, and white ankle socks. The girl on the right has dark brown hair and is wearing an off-the-shoulder pink top with a white cami underneath, a white diaper with a green stripe down the middle, and black pants.

Caption: Mrs. Stevens was at her wit’s end. Halfway through the school year, and the Beta Tau Gamma fraternity house next door had to reclassify itself as a sorority thanks to her spells. She’d hoped that would put a stop to the raucous parties, but if anything, they’d only gotten worse! Loud boys coming in and out at all hours, that head-splitting noise they called “music” nowadays, and the filth. Sure, they couldn’t relieve themselves on her prize bluebells anymore, but these—well, you could hardly call them ladies, could you?—would just hike up their skirts (not that they needed to hike them very far, mind you, even in this weather) and squat right there in the yard when the party was on. The snowy yard was still splotched with yellow patches after their last little soirée. So she rolled up her sleeves and hit the spellbooks. She’d raised five lovely children, so she knew a thing or two about discipline. Sometimes if you wanted a child to learn a bit of self-control, you had to take some control away. The sisters next door had a lot of growing up to do, but Mrs. Stevens supposed that if they behaved themselves, she might even put them back in their big girl panties by the time Spring Break rolled around.

Commentary: This is a sequel to Watering the Flowers, and won't be the last we see of Mrs. Stevens or the fratgirls next door...

Delta Upsilon Incident Report 040905

Image Descripton: A muscular young man wearing only a pair of beach necklaces is standing in a basement bar, surrounded by fully-clothed blonde women. He has an excited look on his face and board shorts tan lines around his shaved groin. The woman to the lower right of the image is wearing a bedsheet toga and a laurel of leaves, and has a mischievous look on her face. The one on the lower left is wearing a red skirt and white tank top, and she is smiling with a red Solo cup in one hand. The one on the upper left is wearing a short pink dress that hangs off one shoulder, tied at the waist with a red cord, and a floral print handbag, and the man has one arm around her. She has a hesitant smile on her face. The one on the right of the man has a similar smile and a similar dress, but with the red and pink reversed. A fifth woman is peeking over the man's shoulder, smiling broadly and wearing a blue-and-white trucker's cap. In the background of the image, a brunette woman with her hair pulled back looks on dispassionately.

Caption: 
Casefile: Delta Upsilon Sorority

Subject: Douglas Walter Preston, Jr. aka “Horndoug”

Capsule: This is the last known photo of Sen. Preston’s son, seen nude in the presence of six apparently young women. Only one has been positively identified: Mildred van Hooke, seen in the back of the shot. According to our intel, van Hooke is the mother figure of Delta Upsilon, and she appears in photographs dating back to 1958, apparently without aging. Otherwise, this image illustrates the prototypical Delta Upsilon ritual, bringing a young man to a secluded location on the promise of a party, stripping him of clothing, and taking a picture. What happens after is unknown, but the young men are never seen again.

Commentary: It's interesting to think about what kinds of investigations might happen in worlds where people get magically gender-transformed.

Can't Keep Her Hands to Himself

Image Description: A woman with long, wavy brown hair sits on a couch, wearing a man's button-down white shirt with dark pinstripes and a pair of dark thigh-high stockings and black thong panties. She is looking down, holding her head with one hand as she pulls the panties aside to expose her vulva.

Caption: Brent couldn’t believe his eyes—her eyes, Amber’s eyes. He had a hard time believing her hands, too, as he ran them through her hair and hesitantly touched her labia. He felt strangely happy: it had been so long since he’d actually seen her, smelled her, touched her. He thought he’d never see her again, not after his wife—ex-wife—caught them together, not after she put that curse on them.

“You like each other’s bodies so much,” she’d said, weaving light in the air. “Maybe you should share them forever.” The light lashed out, and the adulterous couple disappeared, replaced with a single person.

Now every evening, Brent feels the change beginning. His body becomes slimmer and curvier. He feels his mind slipping away, like he’s under a powerful anesthetic, and for a brief moment he almost feels close to Amber. He knows from her notes and videos that Amber takes over as the changes
finish, with just enough time for her to get to work at the strip club where they met. When the morning alarm goes off the next day, Brent is back in his own body, physically exhausted before a grueling day at the office.

Over the last three weeks, they’ve adapted to living this strange double-life, each disappearing for half the day, each finding barely any time to relax—and no time with each other.

But now he’s waking up in her body, bright and early, wearing her stockings, her panties, her shoes—and his shirt? He’ll have to call in sick, have to write a message for Amber when (if?) she finds herself in his body tonight, have to try to find out what’s happening, what’s changed, how long it’ll last.

But all that will have to wait. Right now, Brent’s realizing that despite everything that’s happened, he still can’t keep his hands off her.

Commentary: This is one of my favorite captions that I've done. I don't usually like to do ones this long, but I feel like this was a really different premise. I'd love to do more with this kind of thing.

The Wand of Desire

Image Description: A young woman with long brown hair sits up against a wall, pushing a blue crystalline object into her shaved pussy. She is wearing a turquoise tube top that is pushed down below her naked breasts, and a striped knee-sock in various shades of turquoise. She has one hand curled between her breasts, and her eyes are closed in an expression of pleasure.

Caption: Kevin found the wand at an archaeological dig site with his graduate program. It was half sticking out of the dirt, made of a shiny blue crystal that looked at once both new and ancient. He knew he should have turned it in, but he liked the way it looked, the way it felt in his hands. He hid it until they’d returned to the States, looking at it only once before going back to his apartment.

The find gave him a newfound energy and confidence. He dressed in brighter colors (mostly shades of blue). Kevin was friendlier, more outgoing, and horny. He found himself masturbating three or four times a day, always holding the wand, sometimes using it to stroke the shaft of his cock, loving its little tingles of pleasure.

You might think his grades would suffer, but they improved dramatically. Kevin felt like he understood these ancient cultures intimately. He spent more and more time in the archives, poring over maps of the dig site and cataloguing the artifacts. He was looking for something, but didn’t know what it was.

As time passed, he let his hair grow out and stopped shaving (not that anyone would notice). His muscle mass dwindled and he put on weight in his chest and hips. He noticed that his cock no longer filled his hand, but he put off seeing a doctor. Between classes and the archives and his still-increasing libido, he just didn’t have the time.

He barely noticed when the professors and other students started calling him Kendra. It felt natural. He did notice the strange looks he got when using the men’s restrooms, so he started using the women’s. It was nicer anyway, and it’s not like he could use a urinal anymore. Occasionally he’d think it strange how small his dick was, how his semen had become so thin and clear. But it was so much more sensitive now, and he didn’t want that to go away.

His scrotum had become little more than a flap of extra skin behind his shrunken dick. He didn’t pay it any notice (in fact, he kind of liked how smooth everything looked without it) until one day the wand brushed against it, and Kevin gasped at the sensation. He probed it with his fingers, noticing for the first time that it folded inward, and that it demanded to be filled.

Something clicked in her mind. She pushed the wand inside, tensing as it filled her. She brought herself to orgasm once, twice, then lost count. Kevin was carried away by waves of intense pleasure, and only Kendra remained.

When it was over, Kendra stood, shakily, seized again with the need to go searching through the archives again. But now she felt another desire, like her massive libido had become laser-focused. And unlike her long nights wandering among maps and pottery, she knew exactly what she wanted.

Master PC: Found Out

Image Description: A slim woman with wavy, shoulder-length platinum-blonde hair steps out of a nice car, dressed only in a necklace, thigh-high black stockings and velvety black high-heeled shoes. She has smoky eye makeup, green fingernails, and pierced nipples.

Caption: “Shit shit shit!” Gavin shouted in a voice that was becoming uncomfortably familiar. The cracking in his normal baritone was the first sign that something had gone horribly wrong. When he noticed the bright green finish on his nails, he made a hasty exit from the fundraiser and ran to his car, faceplanting halfway across the lot.

If there were any doubt left in his mind about what was happening, it vanished when he saw that his Italian leather shoes had become a pair of velvety black five-inch heels. The very same kind of heels that his wife had been wearing for the past month. She must have found the Master PC program, must have realized all the little changes he’d been making to her, and now she was getting her revenge. He scrambled to his feet and climbed into the car.

He couldn’t drive too quickly, not with the way his heels kept slipping off the pedal. He could taste fresh gloss on his lips, and could only imagine how ridiculous he looked. As if on cue, that’s when his clothes started disappearing. His tuxedo vanished, piece by piece, until he was left in just a bowtie and his socks—and the heels, of course. He prayed he wouldn’t get pulled over like this.

So far all the changes were cosmetic. Even as his socks crept up his legs into a pair of black stockings, even as his bowtie turned into a gaudy necklace, Gavin knew he could handle the minor alterations.

His heart sank when he had to pull over and adjust his seat, having suddenly become too short to see over the dash. His muscles shrank like deflated balloons, leaving him thinner than he could remember being since childhood. He drove faster, trying to ignore the places where his body was now starting to grow. His naked ass squealed against the leather seat as it expanded, and his budding breasts bounced uncomfortably with every bump in the road.

He nearly swerved into a tree when the two cold metal studs pierced his nipples.

As he pulled into the drive, Gavin felt the last bit of his manhood shrinking away. He opened the car door, hoping he could talk some sense into her.

And hoping that she hadn’t found the Save Changes button.

The Signal

Image Description: A naked brunette woman stands in a dark room, in front of a circular fan. She is shining a bright white light into the camera from her hand, as her other hand is held under her large breasts.

Caption: That’s right, stare into the light. Can you feel it? The light enters your eye, focused by your lens onto your retina, where it’s converted into signals for your brain to interpret. And for the nanites swarming your system, which interpret it as an activation signal. Can you feel them swimming around your brain, rearranging key synapses, triggering neurotransmitter and hormone production? I can tell that you’re feeling something. Warmth, right? Tingling throughout your body? A strange sense of serenity or floating? That’s to be expected. It’s how the nanites prepare you for stage two. I know what you’ve heard about us, but we really don’t want you to feel any discomfort. We want to make you the best you can be.

You might feel some itching; it’s a side-effect of the folicular manipulation. The paralytics in your system won’t let you scratch it, but that’s for the best. Your skin’s already much more sensitive and delicate, you wouldn’t want to damage it. Look on the bright side: you’ll never have to worry about shaving again—anywhere. It’s one of the perks.

It’s kind of funny: of all the changes your body’s going through, the only one you really feel is the hair. You probably haven’t noticed the nanites reconstructing your bones. You’ll have some trouble reaching the top shelf now, but they needed that extra mass for your hips and that perfect little heart-shaped derrière. You’ve got such a nice hourglass figure already. I’m actually a little jealous.

Oh, I almost forgot, those wide hips mean you’re already into stage three, secondary sex characteristics. You might feel flushed, maybe some shortness of breath as the hormones do their thing. Don’t be embarrassed if you experience some sexual arousal during this stage. We’re compressing years of puberty into a few short minutes, so it’s bound to happen. Why, watching your little buds grow into such proud breasts is even turning me on a little. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to feel them later.

Breathing heavy? That means stage four is starting. The nanites have assembled in your abdomen, and they’re stimulating tissue growth for your new internal organs. You can probably feel that rush of blood to your genitals, as the nanites do their most intricate work. They’re repurposing that external tissue, compressing and multiplying those nerve endings. It’s numb now, but when they’re done you’ll be in the top percentile of human erogenous sensitivity, another little perk for our patients.

When I turn off the light, the nanites will go dormant. You’ll shed them in the next few weeks, and—well, we’ll cover that in orientation tomorrow. For the rest of tonight, I think I’ll leave you alone to get in touch with your new feelings.

Commentary: I haven't done a word count, but I think this is my longest one to date. It's also one of the few where I put the reader in the transformee's shoes. Hope you enjoyed it, and let me know if the nanites got their signal.

Changes in the Dark

Image Description: A naked woman sits in the dark, with light-colored hair coming down to her shoulders. Her mouth is open in surprise, and she has a dangling piercing at her navel. She has glowing multicolored rings around her neck, her breasts, and her wrists. Her hands are held in front of her groin.

Caption: Frank woke with a gasp,  blinking his eyes in the darkness.

“Welcome back, Mr. Scott,” said a feminine voice from somewhere unseen.

“Where am I? Who are you?” he noticed the feel of cool air all over his bare skin. “Am I naked?” He tried moving, but his wrists were bound to the chair at his groin. His ankles were tied to the chair legs. He shook at the bonds. “Untie me! Let me go!”

“You’ve been a naughty boy, Mr. Scott,” the voice said.

Whatever material his ringlike bonds were made of was strong and tight and warm, something between plastic and steel. He noticed that a ring of the same material was around his neck, two more were attached to his chest. No matter how he moved, none of them would budge.

“It will go easier if you stop struggling, Mr. Scott. Take your punishment like a man.” The voice sounded gleeful.

“What punishment? What did I do?”

“Nothing you’ll ever be able to do again,” the voice said. That’s when the bonds lit up with colors that blazed in the darkness. Reds and yellows and blues chased each other around the rings; an electric tingle danced across Frank’s skin. The rings pulsed simultaneously, and Frank yelped at the
sensation, like his skin was tightening all over. They pulsed again a few moments later, knocking the breath from his lungs, as if his ribcage suddenly squeezed inward.

Each pulse was sharp, sudden, and uncomfortable—his fingers and feet contracting, his cheekbones and jaw rearranging, his pelvis stretching—made all the more unsettling since Frank could only see glimpses his body in the flickering colors. His throat tightened at one pulse, another made it feel like
he’d been pinched hard in the nose. The tingling sensation was growing stronger—or was his skin becoming more sensitive?

Hair tickled his shoulders now, but the rest of his skin felt smooth and soft. One pulse stiffened his nipples, and another made them feel large and swollen. The swelling in his chest continued, and he finally began to realize what was the rings were doing. He opened his mouth to protest, but another pulse shocked his groin hard, turning his protest into a pained moan with a voice that was not his own. He felt his dick pull suddenly away from his bound hands, and he fumbled to find it again, grasping at a cock and balls that felt like what he’d had before puberty. Two more pulses and they were gone, leaving only smoothness and a patch of soft hair. His hands continued exploring what they could reach, and after a few more pulses, found folds and fluids that felt familiar to his fingers, but the other sensations in the region were new and foreign and addictive. The pulses continued, and Frank couldn’t remember why she felt so panicked. Her head felt funny. Where was she? Why was she naked? What were these weird glowing rings?

“Hello?” she called out.

“Hello, Miss Scott.” The voice triggered something deep in her mind, a feeling of pleasure and an overwhelming desire to please. “How do you feel?”

Fiona took a deep breath. She didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Confused,” she said honestly. “A little sore all over.”

“That will pass soon,” said the voice. “Brace yourself, this next one will sting.”

The last pulse made Fiona squeak, as she felt a sharp pinch in her navel. She could just barely see the glint of metal in the glow from the rings, but felt the little beads tickling the sensitive skin around her belly button. Suddenly, the clouds in her mind cleared. She knew who she was and what she wanted.

She was Fiona Scott. She wanted to please Mistress, and hoped Mistress would find someone big and strong to pleasure her.

“You may stand up now, Miss Scott.”

”Yes, Mistress., Thank you, Mistress,” Fiona stood quickly, and the rings fell to the floor, save the one around her neck. Fiona smiled, and hoped Mistress would let her keep the pretty necklace.

Commentary: One of the longest ones I've ever written, and easily the most involved in terms of the formatting for the text. I'm actually pretty proud of how it turned out, and I absolutely love that photo. It screamed for a caption. Hope you enjoy it as much as I do.