#female to male transformation

[abstractvanity32]

Season 3

Wrong Hotel Room

Kara was walking around this hotel. It seemed like your normal Marriott type hotel but it held a weird magic power that could effect the people staying there in various ways.

Kara went into her room and as she went in she saw the things in her room change. Her clothing became folded up male button up shirts. Khakis. And she looked at her shoes on the ground changing into size 13 men’s shoes.

Kara was shocked but in the coming moments her body began to grow and get larger. Muscles filled out. Her breasts became pecs, as a dusty of hairs appeared on them and went down to her hardening stomach.

He felt a pulling sensation as his new cock formed between his thickening legs, as his feet began to grow and expand. The toes thickened and heels became calloused. They broke out of his small sandals, as Kara looked the mirror to see his face changing in front of his eyes.

Hank watched as his hair receded and finished changing. His face aged and changed as his features became more mature and into his 40s. His hairline receded upward, as blue trunks appeared on his legs. Hank’s mind quickly reset as he stared at himself in the mirror.

“Time to get a swim in” he said thinking about going to the hotels pool.

[dante2045]

Buying the wrong boxers

“I can’t even feel my legs,” Jenny complained, wincing with every step she took. Jenny was walking in the downtown area of the city she lived in with her friend Damon. Damon was a personal trainer and had just pushed Jenny through a grueling workout; he had been trying to get her more interested in fitness over the past several weeks. “Pain is a good thing,” Damon winked, flashing Jenny a grin, “That means we’re making progress.” Jenny could feel her cheeks turning red; though they’d never been anymore than friends, Damon was a bit of a flirt and Jenny found herself often flustered around him.

“Woah. What’s that?” Damon pointed, noticing an athletics store he’d never seen before. He frequently spent time in the downtown area, and was surprised that the store could have opened without him hearing about it. "Do you mind if I stop in quickly?" Damon asked, peering in through the window to take a look at the merchandise. Jenny glanced at her watch and nodded in agreement; it was getting late, but she could spend a little bit more time with Damon before heading home for the night. Once they were in the store, Jenny looked for the women’s section but was surprised to see that there was only men’s clothing on display. As she walked through the aisles to find the women’s section, one of the mannequins caught her eye. The mannequin was wearing a pair of black silk boxers; the material shimmering in the overhead lights of the store. Jenny grabbed a pair off of the shelf, feeling the soft material in her hands. She thought they’d be comfortable for her to sleep in. “Find something?” Damon asked, approaching Jenny. He had a small pile of workout clothes slung over his shoulder. “These look nice, but I’m pretty sure they’re for men. I think this whole store is for men,” Jenny frowned, sadly setting the boxers back down on the shelf. “Who cares if they’re for men? If you like them, you should get them. I’ll even buy them for you. Your reward for making it through my rigorous workout at the gym today,” Damon offered, grabbing the boxers and adding them to his own pile of clothes. After checking out, Damon reached into his bag and pulled out the boxers, handing them over to Jenny. “You down for another workout session tomorrow morning?” Damon asked eagerly. “We’ll see if I can even walk tomorrow morning,” Jenny laughed. Truth was she hated working out, but she felt like she never got to see Damon anymore with their busy work schedules. At least this way they were guaranteed to spend some time together. “No pressure either way,” Damon replied, sounding a little deflated. “Just shoot me a text if you feel like working out in the morning and I’ll pick you up on my way to the gym.” Jenny and Damon said they goodbyes before Jenny made the short walk back to her house. Feeling exhausted, she went straight to her room to get ready for bed. After a moment of hesitation, Jenny decided to wear the new boxers to sleep along with an oversized t-shirt from one of her old boyfriends. With a yawn she laid in her bed, not noticing the faint flow emitting from the boxers.

Jenny’s feet began to toughen, becoming calloused and weathered while growing to almost twice their normal size. The bright blue nail polish she had been wearing vanished as little hairs emerged from her toes. Her legs also became thicker, her calves and thighs bulging with muscle as thick brown hairs sprouted from them. Her hips narrowed while her butt tightened, losing its feminine curves and roundness. The material of the boxers felt great against her skin. Jenny felt amazing in the boxers, reaching down to stroke herself through the fabric. The feeling was incredible, overwhelming Jenny with pleasure. Jenny was so aroused she didn’t notice as her clit started to swell, bulging into a long thick shaft. The shaft formed a large mushroom head, finishing its transformation into an erect penis. A large set of testicles dropped from her pussy before it vanished, her new balls pumping testosterone through her body. Continuing to rub her cock in ecstacy, the changes continued to move up her body. Jenny lost her slim hourglass figure as her stomach bulged outwards, forming into a six-pack of abdominal muscles. Jenny moaned as her shoulders expanded, growing broader. Jenny’s large breasts started to retract into her chest, her nipples growing smaller and losing their sensitivity. Jenny’s breasts continued to deflate until she was completely flat chested; a pair of thick, masculine pecs bulged out from where her boobs had been. The changes reached her neck, her throat thickening as a prominent Adams apple bulged from it. Jenny let out a loud manly grunt, male hormones coursing through her body. Her arms and hands bulked up as they grew thick with muscle, veins coursing down her newly formed biceps and triceps. A thick layer of hair covered her arms as her fingers thickened. Her manicured nails grew rougher and lost their nail polish. Finally the changes reached Jenny’s head and she felt herself explode into an orgasm, her new cock cumming for the first time. Her smooth round face began to harden as her jawline squared and a thick stubble grew in. Her face tingled as it changed; her nose grew larger, her lips thinned and cracked, her eyebrows becoming thick and bushy. Her long blonde hair darkened to a deep brown as it retracted into her scalp, leaving it short and messy. The changes finalized as Jenny’s body elongated, growing to 6’1” from her previous height of 5’4”. Jenny, now Jensen, peacefully drifted off to sleep, unaware of their transformation into a hunky man.

------------

The vibrating of his phone stirred Jensen from his slumber. With a groan, he sat up in his bed and grabbed for his phone, reading the text that Damon had just sent him:

'Just heading out now. Be there in 20. Be ready to go!'

Jensen’s phone told him it was 6:30 in the morning; way too early to be up on his day off from work. He set his phone back down on his bedside table and pulled the covers over his eyes, not ready to get out of bed. There was a nagging voice in his head telling him to get up and dressed for work, which made no sense; Jensen’s job as the HR manager at an office was a Monday to Friday job, and it was Saturday. Still, something felt off and he couldn’t drift back to sleep. With a relenting sigh, he finally stood up and did a large stretch. He’d expected to be sore after the grueling workout Damon had pushed him through the previous night, but he felt surprisingly refreshed. He wished he’d woken up a bit earlier, then he’d have time for a quick 10K run before Damon picked him up.

Where the hell had that thought come from? Jensen had never ran a day in his life and loathed physical activity. He had blurry memories of being the star player on his cross country high school team, but that must have been from a lingering dream; after all, he was still half asleep. If he’d been more alert, Jensen would have noticed the subtle changes that had occurred to his room during the night, but in his groggy state he stumbled towards the bathroom unaware. The floor was clovered in messy piles of clothing; shirts, trackpants, boxers and socks were strewn across every surface. Posters of various video games and rock bands were plastered across the walls which had previously been vacant without decor. A weight rack with various dumbbells for lifting and curls was set up in the corner, replacing where his makeup vanity had previously been.

Jensen flicked on the light switch in the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his appearance for the first time since waking up. He let out a startled shout at seeing the handsome man staring at him in the mirror. His brain’s first response was that there was an intruder in his house, but he quickly realized he was looking at his own reflection. In disbelief, he slowly waved his arm back and forth, watching as his reflection copied the action.

“What the fuck?” He shouted before quickly covering his mouth, startled by the low tenor of his voice. Jensen wondered if he was still dreaming, but this felt real. He approached the mirror, studying his new body. It was like looking at a stranger, but a part of him felt familiar staring at his chiseled jaw and piercing brown eyes; hadn’t he always looked like this?

Jensen’s memories of his previous life as Jenny remained, but he was starting to gain new memories as well. These new milestones were similar to the old ones, with some significant differences; instead of focusing on academics at school, he had been a jock, playing and excelling in all the sports. He hadn’t gone off to college, instead choosing to become a personal trainer with Damon right after graduation. The most significant difference, of course, was in his new memories he had always been a male. Surprisingly, while there were some slight variations, the memories of his boyfriends and men he’d dated remained largely unchanged. Was he gay?

Jensen pushed these memories to the back of his mind, focusing on the task at hand. What had caused his changes? Was there a way to get his old body and life back? He noticed the black boxers hanging from around his hips, remembering the strange store he’d bought them from on the previous day. Could they be the cause of his changes? If he took them off, would he change back?

In light of a better idea, Jensen pulled the boxers down and kicked them off, exposing his new member. Though he had some fuzzy memories of it, this was the first time Jensen was seeing his dick; he’d been with enough men to know that he was well endowed, quite above average. He looked down at his impressively thick shaft, embarrassed when it started to fill with blood and harden; he was turning himself on.

Jensen watched his body carefully in the mirror, looking for any signs that he was reverting back to his feminine body after removing the boxers. The loose T-shirt he’d worn to bed the previous night was now tight against his broad shoulders and beefy pecs. After several minutes, he had to admit that he wasn’t changing back; he shouted in frustration and slammed his fist into the wall. What the hell was he going to do now? Was this his new life?

A part of Jensen wondered why he was trying so hard to change back. He couldn’t deny that he was a good looking man, much more attractive than he’d been when he was Jenny. He seemed to be happy and successful in his career as a personal trainer, and he was still best buds with Damon. So what if he couldn’t change back? This new life seemed like an upgrade in every sense of the word.

Those thoughts were his new personality trying to take over, he told himself. The longer he stayed as Jensen, the more vivid his new memories and persona would become, and the less he’d remember from his previous life of Jenny. If he wanted his old life back, he needed to develop a plan quickly; he was literally in a fight for his life against himself.

He heard the doorbell ring, bringing him out of his thoughts. That must be Damon, coming to pick him up for their shift at the gym. Jensen couldn’t bear the thought of putting the black boxers on again, so he hurried back to his room and slipped on a pair of sweatpants before heading for his front door. His mind was still racing, trying to decide what he was going to tell Damon, as he opened the door.

[persuasivetfs]

The Prodigal Son Returns

“The future site of Our Lady of Sacred Contentment’s second church. A project funded in part by the Virkov Foundation,” read the sign plastered on the fence that surrounded the closed down Saint Zofia’s Bulgarian Orthodox Church.

Olga Tsanov was conflicted. She was glad to see the male-centered church of her upbringing brought to its knees, even if it was by another male-centered church. When she heard that Father Kiril, the pompous high priest of Saint Zofia’s had even converted to this new Protestant denomination, losing all his priestly status so he could be demoted to the role of a mere usher, Olga had burst into laughter. Yet as happy as she was on the surface, the church’s closure had reopened a fissure in her heart that she once thought closed. She felt it when she saw the icons of the Virgin Mary and Saint Zofia taken down from the comfort of her bedroom window. For at one time in her life, those icons and the saints they represented had been everything to Olga. Foundational even, to the woman she strove to become as an adult: temperate, responsible, compassionate, wise.

So it was a great shock, even to herself, that Olga found herself breaking and entering Saint Zofia’s church in the dead of night. Armed with a pair of bolt cutters, her ex-husband Micheal had left behind in the divorce, she was able to force her way past the surrounding fence and into the back of the church.

Despite every part of her screaming that this was crazy and that there was no point, Olga continued on with her plan, walking through the back office and into the nave.

To her horror much of the renovations had been finished much earlier than she’d expected. The icons as Olga remembered lining the walls had been torn down, and repainted white and beige. The sacred relic, one of the alleged fingers of Saint Zofia herself, too was removed, with only a potted fern left in its place. Even the cupola, the wide dome that had stretched over the congregation, that had depicted Jesus in heaven with the angels and saints was destroyed. Painted white and to her continued surprise somehow flattened despite the lack of long and intensive construction such a job would have required.

It left this church, the site where Olga’s devotion once dwelled into an empty shell, sucked dry of meaning.

At least all the male saints were gone, Olga could be happy with, and even Jesus himself was only depicted by a plain wooden cross rather than the twisted face of pain writhing about like Olga was used to. But without all its art, the church looked like an office building with sandalwood pews and stone altar. What kind of god would be worshipped here?

“Stunning isn’t it?”

A man was standing alone in the darkness, making Olga twist her head around.

“What are you doing here?” Olga asked, blurting out the first thing that came to mind.

“Examining the Lord’s fine work in one of His newest sacred places. Same as you,” the man answered, with a thick Italian-American accent, pulling himself away from the wall and walking towards her.

Wearing formal dress shoes and a refined dark suit, the stranger came to stand next to her, his body faintly gleaming under the glow of the moonlight.

“So tell me Olga Tsanov. What are you doing in one of our churches so late at night?” He asked, his eyes casting a fiendish glimmer upon her. She shivered.

“How do you know my name? What are you, a stalker?” Olga asked defensively. The man simply laughed, making her take a hesitant step back.

“The Lord knows all that happens in His churches and all who happens to enter them. And your name and address happened to be on the registry the Orthodox Church left behind,” he explained, his voice shifting from megalomaniacal supervillain to down to earth youth pastor from one line to the next.

It left Olga unsure where she stood with this man. Was he planning on calling the police on her? Or was he just toying with her?

“I was just leaving. I’ve seen what I needed to see,” Olga blustered, walking off. The door to the back office suddenly slammed shut ahead of her. She turned her head back to the priest whose smile filled her with dread.

“Did you really think you could leave that easily?”

“What do you want, priest?” Olga asked, snarkily, trying not to let her fear show. She was used to the old wooden doors of the church slamming shut whenever the wind blew, but this priest was unsettling. She didn’t even hear him breathing and yet there he was, lingering in the shadows as if waiting for her.

“It’s not about what I want, it's about what the Lord can provide you, my child,” the stranger said cryptically, taking a step forward against the polished wooden floor.

“I’m fine, thank you. I was already raised in one penis-centeic religion, I don’t need another,” Olga bristled, turning away from him. She stepped to the altar and wiped her hand along its marble surface. Father Kiril had once struck her on the side of the head for touching it. The act of a woman who didn't yet know her place. Olga gritted her teeth.

Despite her reverence for saints like Zofia or the Virgin, Olga had never fit inside the restrictive environment of her church. For only men and boys were allowed to read the Epistles or hold the communion cloth or serve at the altar. If Olga wanted to serve God, she was told, she should wait until she could become a nun, otherwise her sex had marked her as morally inferior and less “clean” to do the tasks of men in the church. Even female saints like Zofia or the Virgin had to take on the role of a subordinated wife and mother before the power of the penis and this had enraged her.

“But Olga, the word of God is open to all people, men and women. It is only true that we have different roles in the world as decreed by the Lord,” the pastor explained, stepping next to her at the altar.

“Yes, for men are biologically created to be brutish and violent and disgusting and cruel, while women are biologically smarter, kinder, and weaker to men and thus men's perpetual victims. I’ve known enough of that from my pig of an ex-husband,” Olga said bitterly.

“So why did you come here my child? If the ‘penis-centeic religion’ as you called it in your childhood was so distressing?”

“I… I don’t know. I’ve always wanted to serve the Lord. To reach people. To even be a voice for the Wentworth Falls Bulgarian community. It just never felt like I could because of who I was. Because the woman my people wanted me to be, that submissive housewife and mother could never exist,” Olga explained, suddenly feeling more casual and open with this priest about her private thoughts than she had any good sense to.

An oddly satisfying sense of warmth had begun to flow into her, lowering her defences. Her muscles loosened, her shoulders eased. The warmth left her feeling like a ball of wet clay, ready to be remolded.

“While we are all meant to be equal brothers and sisters before the eyes of the Lord, maybe a different path would be beneficial to you. We do need a pastor for this community in line with the Bulgarians,” the pastor said but frankly Olga was finding it difficult to care. The comforting sensations made Olga feel too good to think, too good to protest.

Then as the rivers of comfort flowed in and out of her body, Olga felt from within her a pulsating energy radiating out from her vagina. Her labia throbbed, releasing wave after wave of pleasure, as her clitoris began to enlarge, expanding outward as skin grew in and out over Olga’s lips.

Then with a lurch, Olga felt her vagina close up and disappear and in its place, a penis and a pair of gradually dropping balls.

“This can’t be happening. What are you doing to me?” Olga demanded to know only to quickly become horrified at the deep masculine voice that left her lips.

The priest laughed.

More changes were overcoming her body, twisting and reshaping Olga Tsanov into a form unrecognisable. Her signature long straw blonde hair was shrinking back inside her head, only stopping at the crown of her head before turning a dark brown. Then across her face and forearms, the hair that had disappeared from the top of her head re-emerged, forming a tightly sculpted beard and mustache. As her hair shifted so did the bones in her face, giving her a pointier chin and higher cheekbones, while her crow’s feet and wrinkles wiped away, giving Olga a youthful glow she hadn’t had since her late 20s.

This youthfulness soon extended to the rest of her body, leaving her feeling energized and excited.

Eager to witness what came next, Olga ripped out of her dress shirt to be amazed at the cobblestone abs that were forming. Her breasts, once saggy with fat and age, had in their new youth and new burst of testosterone firmed up with muscle. In fact much of her body, from her triceps to her thighs were packing on muscle. Not enough to make a bodybuilder blush, but enough to gain noticeable attention should she wear a tight-fitting shirt.

“You look wonderful, Olga, absolutely wonderful,” the priest said with a chef’s kiss, before putting his arm around Olga’s shoulders and laughing.

At any other time Olga would have pushed the man away and thought him a pervert, but now his touch had a sense of comradery. Just bros being bros.

“I knew you’d make a wonderful man. I just knew,” the priest positively declared.

“But how is this possible- I-“ the stranger shushed her.

“But first I believe a new name is in order. Let’s try Boris on for size. Introduce yourself,” the stranger commanded with a clap of his hands.

”Hello, I’m Boris Tsanov,” Boris introduced, her voice deep and refined.

It was strange just a moment ago she could have sworn her name was Olga, but that name like much of her past was fading away like a disappearing dream soon to be forgotten.

“Outstanding, Boris. Now, let’s think about your past for a moment. Who is Boris Tsanov?” the priest asked. Boris took a deep breath.

“I’m the head of Women and Gender studies at the Wentworth Falls Community college. I’m 39, divorced, agnostic, and a proud biological woman, or at least I thought I was,” Boris said, confused at how his words were not matching up with his new body.

“No, I don’t think that sounds like you Boris,” the stranger said, shaking his head.

“I think you’re 28, recently graduated from divinity school and ready to spread the true word of God to the masses and trusting me Pastor Agosti as your friend and mentor,” the stranger explained. Except he wasn’t a stranger, was he? He was Nico Agosti, a trusted advisor and confidante, who had guided Boris through years of divine education and study, helping mold him into the proud Christian he was today, eager to save the Bulgarian masses as he himself had been saved. Except, wasn’t he a woman or at the very least used to be married to a man? Wouldn’t that be a sin?

“Pastor Agosti,” Boris nervously addressed. “I trust you and everything you say, but I’m still so confused. I used to venerate Saint Zofia and the Virgin Mary so highly and sought to be like them in every way. How does that make sense if I’m a man?”

“Oh my sweet brother. You weren’t looking to be those saintly women,” Pastor Agosti said, sympathetically, hiding his glee. Boris, unsure, scratched at his temple.

“You were looking to marry a saintly woman: Pious, dependable, temperate, and wise. The perfect wife and mother and you were lucky enough to find her. One of the youngest priests of our congregation but the only one among us bachelors to be married,” Pastor Agosti said, shaking Borris’s shoulder in admiration. Boris Tsanov smiled warmly.

While before when he thought of his spouse, he thought of swarthy and loud-mouthed Micheal, now in his head all he could picture was sweet and homely Miranda. She was everything Boris ever wanted in a woman and he was grateful to have her. At that moment, Miranda was likely asleep across the street, having been saying her bedtime prayers before Boris had left to check on the church. She was so supportive, having dropped everything to take care of the house while Borris continued to work on his divinity degree. He would in return reward her with a lifetime of devotion and many future children who would help spread the Lord’s message as he did.

Still there were a few buzzing questions about his head. How had construction finished so quickly? Why did Boris leave the Orthodox Church for this Protestant denomination? Where did these bolt cutters he held on his person come from?

All these he wished to ask, but Nico waved them all away promising they’d all be answered once Boris was exposed to the “Divinity” as he called it as had all the priests of the church before him. Before they left, Nico was kind enough to make him put on a white dress shirt in just his size, so no one could get any strange ideas of what was going on in there.

Yet while Boris was leaving with more questions than answers he was satisfied knowing he was on the path to lead more people to God just as he had been. There were always more wayward souls that needed saving.

[coeuriredeux]

Discovering that the thief of an accelerated testosterone serum is her archnemesis, the mad scientist Dr. Andrew Rossi, Agent Cabral finds herself in a rather compromising position.

“I have no choice,” Rossi continued, “but to destroy this little experiment. Your bloodstream will make the perfect disposal site.”  “You’ll never get away with this,” Cabral replied weakly.  “Hold still,” said Rossi. He rolled up the too-tight shorts. The cool feeling of an alcohol swab on Cabral’s upper thigh. “You’ll feel a slight pinch.”  She whimpered as she felt Rossi’s strong, gloved hands exploring her thigh, looking for an injection spot. He withdrew his hand for a moment, apparently having found it. Cabral yelped when the huge needle went in, looked down as the mysterious fluid was pumped into her body.  “What have you done to me?” she asked, voice quivering. 

[oliverwondertf]

Of Shooting Stars and Dads

I think I screwed up. I was over Kyle and Devin constantly making fun of me at scouts that I didn’t have a dad to come to the meetings and go camping with me. I never met my dad, he left my mom the moment he found out she was pregnant. The Father/Son Jamboree was coming up and I really wanted to shut their mouths about me not having a dad. I saw a shooting star one the night before and made the wish that I had my dad to come with me to the event.

The next morning I was in for a shock when I walked into the kitchen for breakfast. A hulking guy was standing there instead of my mom.

“Morning Sport! Ready for the big day?” the man asked. The more I looked at him the more I realized, that was my mom, but if she had been born a boy! I had a dad! I was so excited and got ready for the Jamboree. We had a blast and you wouldn’t believe how bad my dad beat the other dads in all the events. It was so much fun, and better yet, no one questioned who this man was! They thought he was always my Dad!

But the next day, my mom was still a man. And looking around our house I finally noticed things were different. The house was a little less organized, the pictures that had my mom in them now only had my dad. Reality really did rewrite itself so I had always only had a dad!

It was kind of cool for a few days, two guys just being guys. But I had really wanted two partners, not a dad replacing my mom. I kept looking for that shooting star every night, but I didn’t see it again. After about a month as I was falling asleep I spoke my wish out loud, just in case the star could hear me. “I wish I had two parents, not just a dad.”

The next night after school my dad told me he was going on a date and would be back late. I was kind of excited, maybe the star did hear me and was doing the best it could considering I didn’t wish it while I was seeing the star. If the date went well I’d have a mom and a dad.

That was a few months ago, and I didn’t realize one thing. Sure my mom turned into my dad, but she was still mostly my mom deep down. Her (his?) new boyfriend Mark is moving in this week. I guess I should be careful what I wish for. All I wanted was one dad, and I ended up with two. But at the same time stupid Kyle and Devin will never be able to say I don’t have a dad again, so the jokes on them!

[fictomorph]

Soot Tags (Roy Mustang TF/TG/MC)

WARNING: This story contains transformation, female to male TG, slime as a TF method, mental change, and reality change

“Ugh. This place looks horrible.”

That was all Ember had to say. The young girl ran her own business as a freelance cleaner, doing any job that paid well enough. So when an offer came to her from a couple of realtors for $3000 to clean a two story house, of course she accepted. Those usually took two to three hours, and would be well worth it. However, she should’ve remembered there’s always a catch for these kinds of jobs. As it turned out, the house had recently been in a fire, and the inside was seared to a crisp. It seemed structurally sound, she checked with a testing whack of the door frame. No debris, but a bit of dust and soot fell. More of a mess for her, but she wasn’t about to die, so...if she was lucky she could get it done by 6.

The hours of tedium passed as they always did, and at 3, Ember had almost finished the first floor. She decided to take a quick break, sitting at the heavily-scrubbed kitchen table. She’d catch her breath, move onto the first floor, and be done with it, she thought as she wiped sweat from her ginger brow. She was about to give herself a good 20 minutes of YouTube before her eyes caught something in the corner. Getting up, she carefully approached it, scared it might be some form of animal. Gripping the handle of her broom tight, she batted at it, only to sigh.

It wasn’t anything alive, but it was still rather odd. It looked like some kind of thick black spiderweb. She paused, looking over it. She had seen these before...what were they? Oh yea! Soot tags! They showed up after fires, something to do with soot particles and low circulation. She reached up to bat them away, only to pause. She’d never actually ran into these before...was she supposed to grab them? She remembered you weren’t supposed to wet soot because that would just make it smear more….if she grabbed them dry, it'd probably be fine.

Tugging on a pair of thick rubber gloves, she reached up to the corner and spooled the soot around her hands, like some kind of goth cotton candy. Pulling her hand back down, she noted a few strands were still there, but it looked like she got most of them. She went to pull her glove off, only to hesitate. Yeesh. The thing had almost completely coated her hand, staining it with its almost ink-like form. At least she still had that other glove...she tried to tug it off with her other hand, only for the tag to almost jump to her other hand!

“The hell? Okay, maybe it’s like…..static charge or something.” She nudged the sink’s handle, almost surprised the water was still running. However, she got a nasty shock as when she tried to wash the soot off, it instead jumped further down her arms! What’s more was the realization that her thick rubber gloves had become silk and stain free, a red lizard marking the back of one. Okay, she may not be an expert on soot tags, but she knew they couldn’t do THIS!

It began to creep up her arms, the thick goo soaking her arms in dark blue fabric. Her frame seemed to tug out, a new coat of lean muscle under the sleeves. She could feel its tendrils wrapping around her, tugging her middle longer, coils causing muscle to appear along her middle. The deep blue became more and more tied to her, small accents of white manifesting along her chest to give the goo a more uniform look.

“I-It won’t come off!” She grabbed at her chest, trying to pull the adhesive off of her. Her chest and shoulders broadened, bones clicking into place. She felt it pour down her legs, growing taller as they pressed out into sleek deep blue dress pants. Even her feet weren’t immune, somewhat grubby sneakers gaining a coat of polish as they became dark black leather.

“What the hell is this stuff-mmmph!” It crept up her face, the taste of overly burnt meat coating her tongue as she was unfortunate enough to get some in her mouth. She felt the soot reshaping her face, jawline becoming sharper and more defined, brown eyes deepening to the same pitch as the soot and taking on a more stern, determined look. The most notable change was her hair, as the soot had wrapped into the fibers of her hair, charring it dark and chopping off a decent chunk.

“G-Get off me!” Her mind was so overrun with panic she didn’t even notice how her voice had changed, now that of a stern (if slightly mischievous) authoritative figure. She had been blinded by the soot, it like a thick, overly applied face mask. Her head began to spin, she assumed from the fumes the soot had to be producing.

She….no, that wasn’t right. He held his head, finally managing to find a weak spot in the soot’s grasp as he pulled it off, gasping.

“Hm?” Riza poked her head in the room, confused. “Is something wrong, Colonel?”

Roy Mustang snapped to attention, looking back at Riza. The two were investigating a house that had burned down mysterious, signs pointing to it being foul play. “No, all’s fine. I did find these, though.” He revealed the soot tag in his hand, soon scraping it into a jar. “Soot tags. They only appear when a fire is caused by an artificial substance, meaning this wasn’t some stove that just got left on.”

“Hm, that’s certainly something.” Riza took the jar from Roy, looking over it. “Nice find. I’ll leave you be to the rest of your work.” Roy scoffed, leaving his assistant to walk away. That was probably all he’d find here...didn’t see too much of a reason to burn this place down.

Ah well, he shrugged. Just another day at the office.

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 9: Farm Work

Find the rest of the stories here!

CWs: Noncon; kidnap; lactation play; transformation; restraints; corruption; forced impregnation; forced tf; bondage; probably a dozen things I've missed

Author's note: I'm really not kidding when I say you can help by giving me ideas! Want me to write about something? Drop me an ask or a DM! I'll probably get around to it in the next 350+ days!

######################################

Maybe you stayed out a little late? Maybe you were in the wrong place at the wrong time? All you know is you got jumped.

It was on the way home after work, you hadn't noticed them get off the train behind you, hadn't heard them gaining on you. You only noticed them when the chemical-smelling rag was pressed against your face, and the world went dark.

You woke up already naked and sweaty. Your arms were bound down your back, forcing your chest to push out, showing off your tits in the half-light. You could hear shouting in the next room, then everyone went quiet quiet as a voice called out 

"Next is lot 35, female, mid 20's, recently acquired"

They pushed you forwards and you stumbled, your ankles tied so you could only take small, hobbling steps, your bare feet numb on the cold concrete floor.

You emerged through the door into a spotlight. Blinking against the light you could see the room was full of people but you couldn't see any faces. 

Everyone could see you, bare, glistening, unable to cover yourself. You cowered away from their gaze, and yelped when a man hit you across the buttocks with a cane.

The auctioneer started the bidding, calling out numbers and taking bids faster than your addled, panicking brain could follow them. All the while, the man with the cane was watching. If you slouched? Whack. If you looked down? Whack. If you tried to hide any part of you? Whack.

The gavel went down. You're not sure how much you sold for. You were led off into another room, then into the back of a van.

You weren't sure how long you were in there, gradually coming down from whatever they used to knock you out. When they opened the doors you were somewhere else.

A large man, bald and scarred, manhandled you up and tightened a collar around your neck. He attached a long pole to it and started to manoeuvre you out. You were pulled through a maze of corridors, into a room with dozens of other women restrained to the floor and groaning. A smaller man waited, dressed in riding gear and carrying a crop.

"Ah, the new arrival." He pulled out a torch and examined you by the light, prodding and poking, feeling your tits and forcing open your mouth to see inside "All her own teeth, reasonable build, looks perfectly adequate. Get her settled." He left the room by the door you came in. 

The large man pushed you to a space between two other women and attached your collar to the floor with a short length of chain before going behind you and connecting your ankles to the floor. 

You were stuck there, knelt down with your naked ass in the air, face inches from the floor. 

That's when you heard it. Something was being led up behind you. Something huge and snarling. You could feel it's breath on your behind as it got to you. It was smelling you. Then it was upon you. 

It was heavy on your back, driving your face and chest into the floor as it thrust it's cock over your ass. It felt huge on your back, already oozing fluids. You cried out as it found its mark and started pressing against your pussy. It slid off again and again as it thrust madly, over and under you, until it didn't.

The pain almost made you black out. It was bigger than anything you'd had down there, and it wasn't letting up. Again and again it pounded into you until you couldn't see for tears and your screams turned to hoarse whispers.

Only then did it slow. One. Two. Three last mighty pumps into your quivering, punished pussy before it held in its throbbing cock. How breath on the back of your neck, stale and damp. You could feel the cum filling you up, pooling in your womb. It pulled out, your pose stopping any from spilling out despite your loosened hole. Whatever it was was being pulled away from you. Drawn sullenly back to wherever it was kept. 

You didn't move for the rest of the day. Not that you had much choice.

You woke to a bowl in front of you, filled with a tasteless beige slop. You tried not to eat, the food making your stomach turn. You weren't given a choice. You had your face pushed down into it, forced to eat just to make enough space to breathe.

This continued for weeks.

You thought it was just the food at first, making you sick when you woke up. Then you realised you hadn't had a period yet. Then you felt yourself start to grow. Your belly and your tits both getting larger. You couldn't not notice it. They couldn't either.

You woke to someone hefting your tits. They were manhandling them into plastic cups, suctioned on around your growing nipples. Then they turned the machine on.

You groaned. The machine was suckling you. Gently pulsing the suction up and down to start milking your tits. It lasted for hours. Days. Eventually you felt yourself starting to give milk, you saw it flowing down the tubes leading from your body. 

The food changed. It wasn't just flavourless any more. Now there was something different about it, something strange that made your tits and clit tingle and throb. 

It didn't stop. All day and all night the machine would pump out milk, more and more as the drugs and your own body did their work. You felt something else as well. Your clit kept tingling and buzzing, the drugs and the unending stimulation keeping you on edge, always ready to orgasm at any moment. But the moment never came.

The handlers don't touch you now. You hadn't had the creature since the first night. You're nothing but a whimpering cow, mooing and braying on the machines.

Until you aren't.

The handlers are taking notice of you again. You're hearing them talking about you. You're almost ready. 

You wake to someone behind you. You wiggle your ass to get some attention, and feel something strange between your thighs. Your clit feels big and hard against your legs. It must be at least an inch long after all the drugs and the edging. You feel it. Another tube suctioned over your clit. You hear a button clicking on the machine milking you. The cup on your clit starts pulsing in time with the others.

It's too much.

You cum immediately, the orgasm causing your swollen pussy to contract and throb, begging to be filled with something, anything. You moaned and begged for the man behind you to just fuck you already, you didn't care any more, you just wanted him inside you. 

He walked away. 

You don't know how long the orgasm lasts. By the time you can think straight again you're face down in a puddle of drool, your hips still bucking in time with the suckling on your tits and your swollen clit.

The strange taste is still in your food. It feels like every few days your tits grow another size, your clit another inch. 

Then it happens. You can feel something welling up from within you, pulsing through you. It feels like something is travelling up the length of your distended clit, coming closer and closer until inch by tortuous inch it starts.

You cum. Your pussy cleanches and squirts, your body convulses and you thrust your hips forward reflexively.

You can feel something coming out of your clit. Thick, hot cum is flowing out of you in a steady stream, each pulse makes you cry out in ecstasy. 

The drugs, the humiliating position you'd been stuck in for months, the beast growing in your belly, all forgotten.

This is all you want. To kneel here. To be milked for everything you have. To be knocked back up whenever you finally give birth to whatever it is in your belly.

You won't leave here, not for anything

[tranztastic]

She could get it

[sexyhazel1]

Do you want a sexy trans goddess like me ?

[abstractvanity32]

Season 3

Random TF Blurb - Adjustment Period

“This just feels disgusting” Mia said as she rubbed the hairs on his now hairy chest. He got clothes that kinda fit his new body now as he was mortified what just happened to his petite womanly body he had only moments ago.

He was this buff and dumb looking bodybuilder now. He just touched this weird ass dumbbell that was in his garage and poof. He’s this giant guy who looks like he has roids for breakfast.

It was only seconds but it seemed like hours. His hands got larger and calloused. His chest heaved and shrank and developed three hairy pecs he now has. His feet bursted out of his socks and widened.

Mia grunted thinking about the cock that grew between his legs, as he adjusted the boxers he found in his boyfriend’s laundry. Mia just was having a hard time wondering how this happened. He just felt heavy and large and moved so differently. He felt the cock between his legs and winced.

Mia hated this. He was gonna be home soon. He lifted his tank top and saw the hairy bloated abs he had and just sighed. “What if this was meant for him?” Mia asked as he saw the dumbbells and began to lift them.

Each time, Mia touched them it just seemed right and he did it again. “Maybe this has its perks” he smirked, as he just decided to embrace it.

3 hours later, a man walked into his garage to see a sweaty behemoth of a man working out in his garage.

“Hey man. Names Logan. Wanna lift with me” Logan said as he smirked. Mia’s mind went comprise blank in the hours he decided to work out and what was left was a beefy himbo Logan who only cared about pumping iron and growing his body.

[dante2045]

Becoming Spiderman

The sirens screeched through the streets of New York City, echoing through the night. Mary Jane Watson looked from the window of her high rise apartment at the flashing lights below, biting her nails to help soothe her nerves.

It had been two weeks since Peter had disappeared in the middle of the night. Mary Jane had awoken to find her boyfriend hastily packing a bag, saying he (and more importantly, his alter ego Spider-Man) were needed for an emergency situation. Mary Jane had tried pressing him for details, but Peter remained frustratingly vague as he slipped into his Spider-Man costume. He had promised to be in touch as soon as he could, hoping it wouldn't be a long trip. With a quick parting kiss, Peter leapt from their apartment window and swung off into the night.

Two weeks with no sign of Spider-Man had resulted in all out chaos. As soon as the criminals realized New York's friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was on holiday, they had decided to seize the moment. The police didn't have the resources to keep up with all of the bank robberies, looting and other petty crimes that had been plaguing the city for weeks. And when Spider-Man's greatest foes realized they had free reign, things really started to escalate. Mary Jane watched the news report on her television detailing Sandman's attack on Times Square mere moments ago, the latest in a string of supervillain schemes.

For what felt like the millionth time that day, Mary Jane dialed Peter's number. As she had predicted, it went straight to voicemail without even ringing. Wherever Peter was, it appeared to be way off grid and she had no way of reaching him or knowing when he would return. Mary Jane was terrified of what another few days without Spider-Man would do to New York; god forbid if he remained AWOL for another few weeks. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she knew it was time to enact their emergency protocol.

Mary Jane hurried to the bedroom, pulling open the closet door. She slid her hand along the back closet wall until she felt the hidden switch, pushing down on it. She took a step back as the closet wall swung open, revealing the hidden compartment behind it. It didn't take her long to find the black briefcase among Peter's emergency stash of Spider-Man gear. She pulled the briefcase out and set it on their bed; a warning in bold capital letters reading 'OPEN IN EMERGENCY SITUATION ONLY'.

Mary Jane clicked open the case, revealing the contents inside. Along with a Spider-Man suit, there was a small syringe filled with a neon green liquid. Mary Jane took off her civilian clothes to put on the Spider-Man suit. It was not designed to fit her curvy body and she struggled to pull the skintight suit over her breasts, but eventually she succeeded. She took a look at her reflection in the mirror; seeing as the suit had been designed for Peter's specifications, it fit her surprisingly well.

She eyed the syringe warily as she picked it up. It wasn't that Mary Jane didn't trust Peter's scientific formula; she was sure the injection would work just as he had designed. And it had been her suggestion that they needed a contingency plan if Spider-Man was ever unavailable to meet the needs of their city, after all. With gritted teeth, she slid the needle into her wrist and pushed down on the plunger, feeling a sharp sting as the formula was injected into her.

Mary Jane anxiously paced her small apartment, waiting for the serum to take effect. It wasn't long until she has hit with a sudden wave of dizziness, nearly stumbling to the floor as she reached out for the wall as support. She knew it was starting.

Mary Jane's calves burned as they stretched out, lengthening while also bulking up with lean but defined muscle. Her thighs also widened with mass and strength, the suit's skintight material hugging her muscular quads. She let out a gasp as her wide hips narrowed, her round butt deflating as it firmed up.

The burning sensation moved up her legs, settling into her crotch. Mary Jane looked down as an unmistakable bulge formed in the groin of her suit, pushing against the material. She reached down and grasped her new manhood, trying to readjust the member to a more comfortable position. Peter would often complain about his suit being too tight in the crotch, and she could now fully emphasize with his plight. She let out another grunt, this one slightly deeper than the previous one, as her ball sack emerged. She gently cupped her balls through the suit, moaning as they pumped testosterone throughout her body. Her dick was beginning to swell, hardening from her state of arousal.

Mary Jane was still exploring her new genitals as the transformation continued upwards. Her slim, tight stomach hardened into a defined six pack of abs. The suit's material pressed down on her breasts, crushing them downwards as they sunk into her chest. Her former breasts were reshaped into a pair of muscled pectorals, her hardened nipples visible through the fabric.

The changes were coming fast and hard now; Mary Jane knew she was nearing the end. Her shoulders broadened while her arms thickened with muscle, growing to be twice their previous proportions.

Her fiery red hair darkened to brown, shortening and styling into a masculine hairstyle. Her round face squared out as her jawline hardened, a thin layer up stubble sprouting up along her chin. Her soft facial features gradually shifted, her warm bright eyes darkening while her eyebrows thickened and plump lips thinned out.

With an overwhelming sense of nausea, Mary Jane stumbled into the apartment bathroom to look at her reflection. She saw her boyfriend Peter looking back at her.

"Wow. It actually worked," Mary Jane marveled, shaking her head in disbelief.

The nauseous feeling continued to grow as the room started to spin, Mary Jane tightly gripping onto the vanity for support. Dark spots blinked across her vision, and she struggled to keep her eyes open. The blackness crept in, and Mary Jane knew she was going to black out...

--------------------------------------------------

Peter opened his eyes, startled from his slumber by the sounds of a police siren. He jumped up off the floor, arms at the ready for any sign of a threat. After his senses had settled, he realized he was in his apartment's bathroom and allowed himself to relax. How had he ended up here? Last thing he remembered, he was...wait, why didn't he remember anything?

"MJ? Are you here?" Peter called out. He did a quick scan of the living room and kitchen before checking in the bedroom. His eyes widened as he recognized the case on the bed, picking up the empty syringe from where it'd been dropped. That explained the memory loss, Peter thought somberly.

"Damn it, MJ," Peter cursed, shaking his head. He had never wanted to agree to this contingency plan, that she should step in as his replacement if he was ever unable to fulfill his role as Spider-Man. She had been stubborn and persuasive, arguing that Spider-Man was more important than either one of them. And she had alieved his fears by assuring it would never likely come to that, anyways.

That was evidently not the case, Peter thought bitterly. He wondered about where the original Peter was and if there would be a way to reverse the process and get Mary Jane back. The thought that he may have lost her for good filled him with an overwhelming panic, but he pushed those thoughts aside. If Mary Jane had taken the serum, things must have been dire, and he had no time to waste.

Peter slid on his mask and pried open the bedroom window. He could see flames burning in the distance, and the sirens sounded like they were coming from every direction. It was time to get to work. He'd save the city, and then he'd find a way to bring his girlfriend back. Either that, or the original Peter would be dating himself whenever he got back from wherever the hell he was.

Spider-Man swung out into the night, ready to save his city.

--------------------------------------------------

Thanks to everyone who has read this! It's my first time attempting fan fiction, combining characters I love with the transformation genre. Would love to have some feedback on what you thought of this and if you would want to read similar stories in the future or prefer entirely original characters?

[swappedman]

The Gender Wave #1

Two weeks had passed since the Gender Wave hit — a sudden, unexplainable phenomenon that reshaped every person on the planet, flipping their genders overnight. For Samantha, now Sam, the change was jarring at first, but strangely, she had adapted quicker than most. It wasn’t like waking up in someone else’s skin — it was still her body, her face, just… redefined. Broader shoulders, leaner waist, stronger arms, and a sharper jawline. She was the male version of herself.

Sam stood shirtless in front of the small dorm mirror, tilting his head as he flexed experimentally. His hair still curled the same way, his brown eyes were unmistakably his, but now there was a masculine edge that hadn’t been there before. His voice had dropped, too — rich, deep, and still startling every time he spoke. It wasn’t what he imagined for his senior year of college, but he wasn’t exactly complaining. The attention from girls (and some guys) around campus was an unexpected bonus.

Across the room, though, his roommate Jessie was having a much harder time. Jessie had barely emerged from under the mountain of blankets since the Wave. The sight of her now stocky male frame, with shoulders that stretched out every shirt she tried to wear, had sent her spiraling.

Sam sighed, pulling on a loose t-shirt before sitting on the edge of Jessie’s bed. “Jess,” he said gently, adjusting to the sound of his own voice. “I know it’s weird. Believe me, I get it. But it’s still you. Just… different.”

There was no answer at first, only a soft sniffle. Then, one of Jessie’s eyes peeked out from the covers, staring at Sam’s confident posture. Sam gave a soft smile.

“It gets easier,” he said. “You don’t have to figure it all out today.”

Jessie stayed silent, but the blanket shifted, just enough to give Sam hope.

[coeuriredeux]

Four stoner chicks try a new strain and get more than what they bargained for - namely, transformation into horny dudes.

[artificial-transmutations]

The Last Chance!

My head was throbbing, and lights danced in front of me. Distorted music was blaring and for a moment, I felt like throwing up. When my sight cleared a bit, I could see a slim metal lectern in front of me and grabbed it to stabilize myself. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, the nausea subsided enough to look around. I was not alone, far from it. I was bathed in bright lights from above and from the sides, and I had to squint to be able to discern my surroundings. There were three more lecterns, arranged in a half circle, and behind that, three more people who didn't look any better than I felt.

In the middle of the circle, there was a big leather chair that was currently empty. Still, most of the lights - artificial lights, headlights - were directed at the empty chair. To all sides, behind the big island of brightness, I could see grandstands with people in the dark, producing a constant loud chattering noise. The room was huge, but had, apparently, no windows.

Even though I've never been in one, it looked a lot like a TV studio to me. The setup looked like a game show of sorts, which means the empty chair was for the host, and I was at one of the contestant's spots.

Which brought me back to the most pressing question: How the hell did I get here?

Let's see, what do I remember... I am Evan, kindergarten teacher, 32 years old, and...

Right. I wasn't very well right now. My boyfriend broke up with me, it was pretty ugly, and then, I went to a bar. I was pretty drunk, but I think I remember leaving the bar again, in the middle of the night and then...

No, total blackout. Nothing that could explain how I got into a TV studio.

I looked at the other contestants, who seemed to be in various states of confusion as well. At the front of the lecterns, I could read their names:

Right next to me, there was Victoria. She looked like a librarian, or a secretary of some sorts. Pretty unremarkable. She seemed perhaps the least uncomfortable and eyed the rest of us with sharp intelligent eyes, nodding slightly as she caught my gaze.

Then, there was Lucas. He looked like he worked as a security guard, or maybe a bouncer, but not one for an exclusive club. His face was broad and his jaw strong and adorned with a goatee, and he wore a tight t-shirt and loose cargo pants. His posture was intimidating, but his eyes were friendly, if perhaps a bit simple.

At the far end, behind the lectern was Blake. He looked a bit like a teacher or a scientist, to be honest. He was slim and tall, had a brown pony tail and wore pretty unfashionable clothes.

For the sake of completion, my own name read "Evan", as expected. I was a pretty normal guy, wearing jeans and t-shirt. I was quite average looking, neither very good nor very bad, and had a bit of a tummy. In short, a very typical guy.

When I looked up again, there was suddenly a man sitting in the chair, wearing a fancy suit, looking into the cameras with a wide smile. I was sure I had not seen him entering, which seemed strange.

Immediately, the chattering from the audience ceased, and the man, who must have been the host, began to speak. So much for trying to escape the situation before the show started.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, and all creatures! Welcome to this wonderful, bombastic, extraordinary episode of 'The last chance'! I'm your host, the magnificent Mr. Mephistolon."

There was a moment of applause and cheering from the dark grandstands, before the man continued. What an odd introduction! Being inclusive is good and all, but 'all creatures'?

"And today, we have our best contestants ever. Give me a cheer for Blake, Lucas, Victoria and Evan!"

Again, there was some applause, which was nice, but I was still confused. What kind of game show was this?

"The rules are simple! Here at 'The last chance', everything is possible. In three exciting elimination rounds, our contestants will fight for the grand mystery prize. You, the audience will vote after each round who you like the least, and the one with the most votes has to leave, never to be seen again."

I decided I didn't like the humor of the host very much, but the explanation continued.

"Whoever survives the third round is the winner of tonight's show! They will receive the grand mystery prize"

He held up a sealed red envelope.

"And, of course, gets to go home."

It would probably have been funnier if I remembered how I got here. The charming host made it sound like we were kidnapped, but that was hardly possible, not on live TV. So, it was probably just a joke.

"But! How can you sway the audience to not vote you out, you ask? What is the game, you want to know? It's easy! In each round, each and every one of you gets a spin on our wheel of fortune. In addition, you will be dealt three cards. In every round, you must use whatever the wheel shows and one of your cards to *change* yourself and one other contestant of your choice. It doesn't matter who you choose for what, as long as one change applies to yourself and one to another one. And remember: All changes are always permanent!"

The host chuckled as if his last statement was especially funny. I didn't quite understand what 'changes' he meant, but the rest was pretty clear.

As soon as the host finished explaining, a gorgeous woman with a long flowing dress and a big deck of cards approached us. Her eyes sparkled, and her skin was smooth, and the long dress made it look like she had a tail under it. She gave every one of us contestants three cards. Mine read "Masculine", with a big blue mars symbol on it, "Submissive", depicting a figure looking down at their feet, and "Chubby", a pink pudgy figure.

After we had a moment to look at our cards, the host spoke up again.

"And without further ado, let's get started! This round begins with..."

The drum rolls in the background sounded very stereotypical.

"Victoria! Ladies first!"

With a fanfare, a big wheel of fortune was unveiled, and set into motion with one swift motion from Mr. Mephistolon. I couldn't make out what the labels on the wheel said until it slowed down and landed on the symbol of a large eggplant. It read "hung".

It had to be one of these late-night game shows with a sexual edge to it. I didn't feel very comfortable.

"Alright, Victoria! The wheel shows 'hung'. You need to choose one of your cards, and then apply both changes, one to you, and one to another contestant!"

The woman studied her cards carefully before choosing one. She held it up and smiled.

"Okay. I pick this card here for myself. It says: 'Big-Chested'. And I'll apply 'hung' to..."

She looked around her three male contestants before finally settling on me. "Evan!"

"Alright, a good choice, Victoria! Remember, the changes will apply after everyone has chosen. Let's continue with Lucas!"

The wheel spun and landed on the picture of a pink, hairless arm, which said "Smooth".

Lucas had looked into his cards up until here and scratched his head.

"Okay, so we're supposed to be nice to each other, right? Okay, so, I... Can I give both to the other guys?"

"I'm sorry Lucas, but the rules are that you have to change yourself as well!" The host smiled with endless professional patience.

"Oh, okay." The guy really wasn't all too bright.

"Then... I take 'smooth' for myself and give Victoria my 'Slim'. That works, right?"

"Yes, Lucas, that's possible! Great job!" The host cheered before looking at Blake and spinning the wheel. It finally settled on "Nerdy", adorned with a pair of glasses.

Blake's eyes darted between his cards and the rest of us. Finally, he decided.

"Okay, I don't think we're supposed to be nice to each other, here. At least, I only have rather negative cards. Since I have to play one on myself, I choose 'Dominant'". He held up a card showing a figure with held up high head and a broad stance.

"And the 'nerdy' from the wheel goes to... Lucas."

The audience murmured and the host nodded approvingly.

"It seems like you have understood pretty quickly! Alright! Let's get to our last one for this round. Evan!"

He set the wheel in motion, and I watched until it stopped at the picture of a broad chest, reading 'muscular'. I looked down on my cards. So, even if I didn't understand the whole 'change' part, it was obvious I should give positive things to myself and negative things to other people. The wheel showed 'muscular', which was obviously positive, and 'masculine' in my hand was positive as well. So, I needed to choose between 'submissive' and 'chubby'. The thought of the big bouncer having the 'submissive' card was pretty hilarious, so I decided on that.

"I'll take 'muscular' for myself and give my 'submissive' to Lucas." I announce.

"Great choices, all around. Alright. So, we get to the changes! Victoria, you got 'Big-Chested' from yourself, and 'slim' from Lucas. Let's see how you look like!"

Whatever I expected, it was not that. Before my very eyes, Victoria's modest breasts swelled until her blouse was bursting. Her body lost any excess fat, and her hips became narrower as well, forming a perfect hourglass shape. If I had been straight, I would have surely started to drool.

"Very nice! Now, let's see the guys. Lucas! You have your own 'smooth', and Blake's 'nerdy' as well as Evan's 'submissive'. Quite a lot, if you ask me!"

As expected, Lucas lost all body hair, except his head and face. Then, his eyebrows thinned out and his nose grew a bit more pronounced. I thought I heard the word 'sissy' being called from the audience. A thick pair of glasses snapped into existence, and his clothing shifted to an awkward, nerdy look. And something seemed to happen behind his eyes. Where before, he looked the host in the eye, he suddenly looked at his shoes.

"I'm sorry, master." He muttered.

"What was that, Lucas?" The host asked, smiling.

"I'm sorry, Master. I don't deserve to look into your eyes." Laughter from the audience.

Lucas was still pretty broad, but his new posture and clothing veiled that pretty well. He looked pathetic all in all.

"Alright, Lucas. Let's switch to Blake. Here, we have your own 'Dominant' and... That’s it! Your antagonists decided to go easy on you, as it seems."

The shift in Blake's demeanor was subtle. His body stayed the same, but his posture changed, as he spread his legs a bit wider and raised his shoulders. His facial expression shifted, and I was sure to see traces of cruelty or arrogance in it, now.

"Aaand, finally. Evan. 'Muscular' from yourself and 'hung' from Victoria. Seems like the other contestants like you, Evan!"

Victoria, the new, busty, Victoria leaned over and smiled as she whispered: "You're welcome."

Suddenly, my body felt tingly and weird all over. I watched in a mix of amazement and horror, as my muscles grew all over the place, quickly filling out my clothes that shifted subtly to make way for the new bulges.

The crowd cheered, and I looked at them for a moment. Then, I was distracted by a feeling in my groin. It took all my self-control not to check with my hands, but I could clearly see the bulge of my cock grow in my pants. I wasn't getting hard - although the feeling was pretty erotic - but my dick was just quickly gaining size, until the bulge was clearly visible through my pants now. I could even see the soft rod hanging down one leg and make out the shape of my balls. With my head red, I stepped closer to the lectern.

"That's all changes for round 1!" The host announced. "And it's time to say goodbye to one of our contestants now. Please, cast your vote."

While the audience voted, I looked around. Busty Victoria was probably pretty safe, as was I - I didn't have a mirror, but I must have looked pretty good. If the audience voted by looks - which I suspected - then it would either hit Blake or Lucas. Since Blake had changed the least, he was probably the most boring one, so I suspected he would be voted out.

It was Lucas, by a small margin.

"Well, then, Lucas! Here goes your 'Last Chance'!" The host smiled, a smile I would describe as cruel, and all of a sudden, a flame shot up where Lucas had been standing just a few moments ago. When the flame was gone, so was Lucas. Wow. That was either a pretty cool special effect or... No, it was a special effect.

As the host turned to Victoria again, I got the feeling this game show was more serious than I thought.

The wheel stopped at the word 'needy'. Victoria looked into her cards and whispered to me: "Let's work together this round."

Since the spot next to her was empty, I was the only one she could whisper to, even though I must have been the bigger threat in her eyes. Her plan was to concentrate on Blake this round and then eliminate me in the next.

"I give 'Needy' to Blake, and I'll take..." She flashed a smile to the audience. "'Big Behind'" The card showed the rather unsubtle outline of a large ass. Victoria was *dangerous*. She had adapted lightning fast and knew how to manipulate the audience.

Blake looked at her with contempt, possibly due to his new dominant demeanor, until the wheel stopped in front of him. It showed a naked male chest, heavily adorned with tattoos.

"Oookay. I take 'Tattooed' from the wheel for myself, and I play this card on Evan."

My heart sunk as he produced a card showing a naked figure that read 'Exhibitionistic'. Crap. The smile in Blake's face was cold. He, too, was dangerous. And from his announcement in the first round, I knew he had more negative cards in his hand.

"So, Evan, take your pick."

I hadn't even realized that the wheel had already stopped, and I looked at it quickly. It showed a pelt of hair on a breast and read 'hairy'. I quickly looked down on my cards. I had 'masculine' and 'chubby'. It was probably a good idea to keep chubby for the last round, so I had to play 'masculine'. The apparent solution was to play it on myself and give 'hairy' to Blake, if I wanted to do what Victoria suggested. However, hairy probably wouldn't hurt Blake much, and neither would 'masculine'. I could sacrifice my 'chubby', but then I'd probably lose the next round for sure. I pondered. No, Victoria was more dangerous. I could play 'hairy' on her... But wait! She was slim and busty, and she was about to give herself a big ass. Combined with hairy, that would be strange, but what if I took out her feminine advantage?

"I take 'hairy' for myself." I began. It didn't make much difference if I was hairy or not. "And I play 'masculine' on Victoria."

The audience went crazy as Victoria's transformation began. Her ass ballooned out, making her even more beautiful by heterosexual standards for a second. But that changed when her body shifted and crossed the gender boundary quickly. A bulge formed both in her throat and in her groin, and her clothes shifted to a masculine style. However, just as I had planned, she still had the other traits. Her - no, his - chest formed decidedly male but rather big man-tits, and his ass was fat. The rest of him, however, including the arms and legs, were thin and slim, looking decidedly grotesque on his male frame.

"I guess we should call you 'Victor' now" smiled the host before the attention shifted towards Blake.

"Let's see how Blake looks after his new changes: 'Tattooed' and 'Needy'".

Blake's skin quickly filled with ink, giving the man an even more dangerous aura. For a moment, I was afraid that Blake would get a stronger position due to his changes, but then, a loud moan came out of his mouth.

"Please! I need someone to..." he was confused as hell, I could see that, as his dominant and his needy side came to a weird compromise.

"... to order to fuck my hole. Please!"

The audience erupted in laughter, and even the host had to smile. It was pitiful.

"And now for Evan."

Crap, what were my changes again? I had completely forgotten that I was being changed as well.

"Let's give you... 'hairy' and 'exhibitionistic'!"

Fuck, and it was all negative. I looked down on my muscular body and I could see body hair growing in, all over my exposed arms and legs, even some in my face. However, the worst was yet to come.

My mind was filled with an overwhelming need. I *had* to show off my body. I *had* to put it on display for everyone to see. Accompanied by the laughter of the audience, I pulled off my shirt and exposed my furry, muscular chest for everyone to see. It felt good, but I wasn't finished. Next, the shoes, socks and pants came off. My underwear was filled to the brim with my large cock, and a thick bush of hair erupted from it as well. And my underwear got even tighter as I felt the rush of satisfaction it gave me to expose myself like that. I could stop now, I probably had enough self-control. However, I hesitated. It was all about the audience vote, right? Perhaps I had better chances if I played the role, to the end. So, I hooked both my thumbs into my strained boxer shorts and, with a quick motion, pulled them off, freeing the absolute python of my semi-hard cock. I even took a few steps back from my lectern, so everyone could see me in all of my hairy, muscular glory.

The audience went wild. With some satisfaction, I noticed that almost no one voted me out. Instead, most of the votes fell on Blake.

"So long, Blake!" said the host, and Blake, too, disappeared in a sudden flame.

"Seems like it's just Victor and Evan left. Let's see who survives this round and takes the grand mystery prize home! Let me spin the wheel for Victor!"

The wheel slowed down on the sweaty face emoticon. However, it didn't read 'sweaty', but instead 'horny'. Victor smiled and shot me an apologetic look.

"Sorry, big guy, but that's it for you. Let's see how needy you get. I choose 'horny' for Evan and for me... 'Charming'". The new man produced his last card, which showed a handsome prince. Crap. That was a good combination.

I looked down at my 'chubby' card, and only as the wheel stopped, I realized my mistake. I had kept the strongest negative card until the end, but I didn't anticipate that the wheel might *also* show something negative. I stared at the head-scratching figure on the wheel and the word below that. 'Dumb'. Shit.

What were my options? I could give myself chubby and Victor dumb. Perhaps, hopefully, chubby wouldn't look too bad on my muscled body, but it hardly mattered if Victor was dumb or not. Charme worked regardless of intelligence.

Then again, I could give Victor 'chubby', which would probably work well in making him even less attractive and grotesque. But that would mean I'd have to take 'dumb'. And all changes were permanent, the host had said so.

I thought back to the flame effect that had consumed Blake and Lucas. No, I had to win this, no matter the cost.

I forced a smile for the audience. "Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'm big all over already, and hairy and naked. So, I'll gladly take the 'dumb' - make me a real himbo!"

I didn't want to be 'a real himbo', for sure, but it might still be better than the alternative. And it would fit into the 'horny' I was about to get.

"And Victor gets my last card: 'Chubby'!"

His eyes went wide, as he suddenly wasn't so sure of his victory anymore. And really, he immediately began to change. His thin body got softer and rounder, especially his stomach and butt. Even his man-tits grew even larger. However, at the same time, his face grew a well-groomed beard, and his eyes got a sparkle to it. Even though his form was bloated, he still looked nice enough. Fuck.

Then, all eyes went to me. I closed my eyes as Mr. Mephistolon announced my changes. 'Dumb' and 'Horny'. No bodily changes, thankfully. My body was still glorious and on full display. The first effect I felt was in my groin again. I grew hot and flustered, and my previously semi-hard cock quickly expanded into its full length, hard and throbbing, pointing directly ahead. That wasn't bad, I had to admit. As I was leaking precum on the floor, I enjoyed the attention of my body on display like that, and there was certainly a lot to see. But the next change hit my mind. My thoughts felt sluggish and slow. It was as if the gears in my head were covered in syrup or mud. Or that other thing, what was it... Cum, right. I had to grin dumbly. Yeah, my thoughts were slow as if they went through cum. That thought amused me and distracted me for longer than I would have been comfortable to admit before. But now, I just didn't care. When I opened my eyes again, all higher intellect was gone, and I was just happy for all the attention and was feeling horny. Well, I was always feeling horny, right? Automatically, my large right hand gripped my fuckstick and I started to slowly stroke it, while smearing precum into the pelt on my chest with the left one. The audience cheered.

"Alright, here are the final votes!", the host announced, ripping my attention momentarily from my own body.

"It seems like, with a *very* narrow margin, Victor has lost this round."

I looked at him quizzically. Was that good?

"That means Evan wins tonight's show!"

The audience went wild and clapped, and I felt happy. Apparently, I had done something right!

"Congratulations, Evan! Now, let's see what tonight's grand mystery prize is."

With a big gesture, the host opened the envelope and read out the contents.

"The winner - that's you, Evan - gets to transform the host freely, to his liking. Now that's something we haven't seen in this show for a long time!"

Even though that meant I was allowed to change him to my whim, Mr. Mephistolon didn't seem unhappy. Instead, he licked his lips.

"Go on then, Evan! What do you want to change about me?"

"Uhhh..."

I thought hard about it.

"Make you... Make you big. Big and... strong. But not as strong as me. More like lean, but sturdy. I still want to be the one to fuck you. And... uh, make you... Make you have big dick and big balls."

I was a bit confused about the last two points. My mind had trouble thinking, but I also had a big dick and big balls, and those were good, right? So, I wanted them for him, too.

"Alright, let's see what Evan gets."

I watched curiously as Mr. Mephistolon slowly began to change.

He gained muscles, but nothing like I had. He stayed rather thin, but his arms, chest and abs looked very nice. His feet grew, and lean muscle set in, making him able to withstand a lot of force when I would pound his hole, later. I could hardly wait and was stroking my cock again.

As expected, his cock and balls swelled, and grew hairy. He was not as hung as me, but that was probably good. After all, he wouldn't really need his cock, his ass was the important part.

After his transformation was finished, I saw him look at his new body and his cock, and then into the crowd, before his eyes landed on me.

"Well then, that's all for tonight, folks! I guess I'm going home with Evan now!"

And with the last round of applause, our surroundings shifted until I was in my apartment again. Still the same bull of a man, with my target right in front of me. I licked my lips as I approached the host. I would fuck him silly, that's for sure.

[fictomorph]

Any Objections? (Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth TF/TG/MC)

This story contains female to male TF, character TF, and identity death as well as Wrightworth shipping/romance.

———————

“Looking for something in particular?”

A voice disturbed Griffin, who was currently hunched over the top of a display case, filled with rings, all of them beautiful, finely crafted….and expensive. He jolted up, meeting the eyes of the clerk.

“Oh...yea.” He rubbed the back of his neck, awkwardly chuckling. The clerk looked him over, trying to read him for what he wanted. Decently groomed short chestnut hair, a purple polo shirt and pressed jeans, brown leather dress shoes...probably had something decently important later today. And considering what kind of jewelry he was looking at….

“You’re proposing later, aren’t you?” Griffin paused, nodding.

“How did you?...” He sighed, his shoulders slumping. “Ugh, yeah. But everything’s so expensive...I’ve been saving for practically a year and even then I can barely afford any of the good ones!” The clerk watched him as he went back to pouring over the rings, struggling between getting his loved one something they deserved and something he could pay off.

“Actually..” He perked up, holding a finger in the air as his icy blue eyes pondered a thought. “I think we might have a set of rings in the back for decently cheap, $100, $120….but they still look rather nice and are of high craft. Would you like me to see if we still have them?”

Griffin nodded, letting out a sigh of relief. “Really? Oh thanks, man, you’re a lifesaver!”

“Ah, no problem. My job is to help people find what they’re looking for, after all! Now if you’ll excuse me…” He walked off, headed into the forbidden parts of the store unknown to the commoner. After a few minutes, Griffin (who had started scrolling through Twitter) was brought back to reality by the sound of something being set on the glass in front of him, along with the clerk’s statement of “Take a look”.

Two small ring boxes were laid in front of him, one coated in red velvet and the other in blue. He lifted the red box, popping it open to reveal the contents inside. A rose gold band, with two small diamonds and one ruby crowning it. The edges of the band flares, giving it a ruffled pattern almost like creased fabric. Ooh...this would be perfect for her! He picked up the blue box, inspecting its hidden treasure as well. It was a similarly simple pure gold band, two sapphires on either side of a diamond tucked away in a golden four-pointed star. He looked back to the clerk, grabbing both of them as he fidgeted his wallet from his pocket.

“You said these were…$120?” The clerk nodded, leading to Griffin slamming the money on the counter. “Oh man, thank you so much! She’s gonna love this, I-I can’t thank you enough!” Placing the ring boxes in a bag for him, the clerk waved as another satisfied customer ran off.

The rest of the day was as normal as it could be for a day leading up to such a big event. Griffin called to double and triple-check his reservations were still in place, re-washed and ironed everything he was wearing for later, and took an intensive shower. Everything had to go perfect for tonight. Soon enough, after what felt like both no time at all and a full eon, his doorbell rang. Answering it, he was met with the face of his beloved Kelly. She had dressed similarly nicely, a long somewhat shimmery orange dress accompanied by a pearl necklace. Her blonde hair had been neatly curled at the edges, letting it frame her face in a rather flattering way.

“You look nice.” Griffin stuttered, eyes darting across the room as she chuckled.

“Thanks. You too.” She grabbed his hand, leading him out the door. “C’mon, we should get going. You said this place was expensive, and I don’t wanna miss our chance to eat $100 steak.”

The car ride over was nice, Kelly looking out the window at the late-night city’s lights. Her eyes drifted over the scenery, soon enough settling on the restaurant they had arrived at. She had known it was a fancy place, but she didn’t expect it to look quite this nice. The building had strings of fairy lights dangling from it, and as they walked in, she took note of how well everyone was dressed. She started to think she might’ve underdressed for the occasion.

“Mr. West? Ah yes, we have your reservation. Please, follow me.” The waitress led the two to an empty table, one which happened to be on the patio. A nice open space, no one else outside, illuminated by the moonlight….it was perfect. Griffin kept a hand on the two ring boxes in his pocket, waiting for the perfect moment.

Whatever was above must’ve taken a shine to them that day, as the dinner went perfectly. Their food was cooked to perfection, the wine the servers brought out was a rich palette, and all night the moon and stars were perfectly visible and bright. As Kelly polished off her second glass of wine, he gripped the boxes tighter than he ever had before and sighed.

“Hm?” Kelly placed her glass down, focusing on her partner. “Something wrong, Grif?”

“No, it’s just….we’ve been together for a while now and...you’re really important to me. I

realized I found something I don’t wanna lose. So….” He took the red box from his pocket and held it out to her, letting her see as he popped it open. “Will you marry me?”

She gasped, grabbing the box as she teared up. “Oh my God….yes!” His heart pounded out of his chest as she slipped the ring on, admiring it. He had taken the shot and hit a bullseye.

“The best part?” He held the blue box in his hands, showing its contents to her. “They’re a set. We match!” Putting his own ring on, Kelly practically pounced on him as she pulled him into a hug that turned into the two holding each other’s hands, rings resting against each other. It felt like a moment that would last forever…..until they withdrew their hands in shock.

“Ow, something shocked me!” Kelly rubbed her hand, surprised by the indignant interruption.

“Yea, me too….might’ve been some static electricity or something in the rings.” Griffin explained to the best of his knowledge. That was a thing that could happen, right? Metal conducted electricity.

“Mhm...probably. Felt a bit stronger than static, though. It was just...weird.” She unconsciously flexed her fingers to fully shake the feeling, although a new, even stranger one replaced it. Her hands began to shift, growing broader and more well-groomed, like they belonged to someone from the upper class. Though the expected tightness of the ring becoming too small for her fingers was strangely never present…

“Maybe you just aren’t taking your wine well.” Griffin chuckled, taking her hand in his in an attempt to comfort her, only to realize how large it was compared to mere moments ago. He gulped, feeling his hands become a bit more comfortable in holding hers, the change nowhere as near as drastic as Kelly’s but still something concerning. His arms tensed, swelling with a slightly toned layer of muscle new to his form. He took his hands from Kelly’s, looking over them. Sure, he admittedly never held his wine the best, but he’d never hallucinated before, and he’d definitely never actually felt it.

“Grif? Do you think someone put something in our food?” She took a longer, more well-built arm to her chest, feeling the fat layered on it melt away and replace with an admittedly not too shabby set of pecs. “Wh-What?” Her face flushed, eyes widening at the realization that whatever was happening to them had decided to shift her sex around.

“I’d like to see whatever drug can do something like this at all, let alone this fast!” He gripped onto a chair’s back, groaning as his back popped, leaving him slightly taller and, as a cursory scan of his new body would reveal, sporting a new set of abs. “Woah...this is...something.”

Kelly, meanwhile, was not as enthralled with her changes as Griffin was. She felt awkward enough in her dress already, and the cracking of her spine and toning frame didn’t serve to help. What only made things worse was the notable pressure she felt from her high heels, confirming her fears as the sides of the shoes gave, leaving her feet exposed in the cold night air. “Ugh….just kill me now….”

“Hey, cmon, don’t be like that.” Griffin pulled her into a hug, grinning in an attempt to ease her fears. “This probably won’t be that bad.” She looked up at him, desperate for some form of comfort. It was probably just the changes, but...he looked so much more handsome than usual. His jawline was sharper, his eyes had cooled to a soft smoky grey, and his formerly chestnut hair had burnt to a dark black, even changing how it was styled into a striking slicked back and spiked look. Something about it was…..familiar and comforting.

Griffin swept a bang from her face, letting him look at her shifted face. He let out a quiet gasp, her heart sinking.

“I-Is it bad?” She clasped her hands together, still feeling the ring.

“No, you’re...you’re gorgeous.” His hand rested against her cheek, taking everything in. Her face had gained this strong stoic look to it, almost statue-esque. His hair had faded to a platinum, combed into a set of bangs that perfectly framed his face and made similarly pale eyes stand out. “I...wow.” He’d never felt this strongly towards...anyone. He took one of her pearls in his hand, only to let go of it as he realized it had gained an odd fabric like texture.

Kelly watched as her pearl necklace flattened and softened, the chain around her neck becoming the same silk as the pearls now were. She brushed over it with her hands, the string now a rumpled scarf of some sort...what was the term? The word “cravat” suddenly popped to mind, albeit she didn’t know where from. Yes, that was right.

Griffin coughed as something tugged against his throat, looking down to see a bright red tie had formed around his neck. More notably, where it touched seemed to sap the red from his shirt, leaving it pure white as the still-blue edges tugged away from itself, leaving him with a formal white undershirt topped with a sapphire blue suit jacket. “Guess they have a stricter take on business casual than I thought…” He awkwardly joked as he watched the blue spread down to neatly pressed dress pants, his changes finishing with his shoes expanding slightly and shifting into dark leather.

Kelly brushed her face, slightly flushed from Griffin’s new form. …..Griffin? Was that right? No, that...that wasn’t it. What was his name, though? As she thought, her clothing underwent its own metamorphosis, bleeding into a combination of a black vest and a deep red suit jacket, albeit this one more high quality than her partner’s. The material shared its conquest of her wardrobe with her partner’s changes, as the ends of her dress wrapped around her legs into fanciful perfectly tailored wine red pants. Her shoes even got a second shot as the heels flattened to the ground, a refined pair of leather dress shoes.

“Is...is it over?” The two looked at each other, Griffin pausing at his new voice. It was young, nothing too outstanding on its own but probably could be with some power put behind it, like some form of objection.

“I...I believe so.” Kelly gasped, putting a hand to her throat as she felt her new Adam’s apple. The voice it had given her was a rather pleasing one, deep and proper, the voice of someone who really knew what they were doing. “My...this is all so….” She didn’t get to finish her thought as she trailed off, Griffin taking her hands one again.

“Not what I expected to happen tonight, either. Can’t say I’m too mad though.” Kelly blushed, Griffin’s face equally red as he leaned in for a kiss, which she gladly reciprocated. That simple act sealed the two’s fates as when they pulled back, a different, more fitting set of memories and personality traits belonged to the pair.

“Wright....must you be this extravagant?” He looked around the patio, taking in the almost storybook-like picture the two found themselves in.

“Of course. Nothing else for my Miles.” Edgeworth turned his head, leading Phoenix to giggle.

“You’re an embarrassment.” He tried to come off as his usual stern self, but the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips was his lover’s cue to keep going.

“Hey, you know how I get when drunk.”

“I suppose I do, Feenie.” Miles slipped his hand into his partner’s, only for the two of them to pause and investigate the rings they didn’t remember putting on.

“Guess I was a bit more drunk than I thought….” He looked away, rubbing his neck in that ever-so-Wright way. A pause of awkward silence, before he sighed and reconnected eye contact. “Hey um….even if we don’t remember it...would you still...you know…”

“Of course, you idiot.” Edgeworth full on smiled, a rare sight, and grabbed Phoenix’s hand once again, planting a kiss on his cheek. Even if they didn’t quite remember how they got here, this proved to be the best night of their lives.

[petew21-blog]

Garden of Andros

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(Other parts of story may follow)