The things I’ve ordered from various websites are mostly harmless but, all together would paint quite a bad picture of me. Chains. Metal cuffs – not handcuffs, mind you, actual proper thick metal cuffs. A little like you’d see in old movies (old England or France or wherever) when they throw a prisoner in the deepest dungeon with his hands chained to the wall until they lead him out to be beheaded.
Which, to be honest, is pretty close to what I’m doing.
The murders started about eight months ago. Grisly things. Bad enough that you wouldn’t really call them ‘bodies’ anymore. …
A young woman receives a gift that was promised to change her. She learns, however, that one cannot choose their fate.
As part of the ‘Sketch’ series, this is roughly done and experimental. This is my first insect TF and, again, a sketch. Grammar, spelling and editing all suffer for it. As does the actual transformation itself.
The old truck hit a hidden rock on the dirt road and Suzanne’s eyes automatically strayed to her satchel. Her bag barely moved and she flicked her eyes back to the road. Above and around her the sky drained of color until the edges of the world seemed to be on fire. …
Written for someone specific. A super quick story. Two werewolves thought they were alone in the world until they meet for the first time.
The first meeting. Nervous at the prospect of meeting another wolf for the first time. Anxious. I can feel it at the back of my mind. Padding. Sitting with crossed paws only to stand and walk around and around in circles. Waiting. He knows what’s coming.
And then there you are, walking towards me, recognition on your face. I stand. Worried about stupid things. Handshake, hug or…? How does- but you’re suddenly there and your cheek slides by mine as you press yourself into my space.…
My first attempt at a bimbofication story with BE (breast enlargment). Because, why not? A young woman falls victim to temptation.
Tracy stood beside her small booth and watched as her classmates walked by. Most of the other students ignored her but a few looked at her signs and laughed before walking away.
“Abstinence is the only answer,” the small girl said to no one in particular. “We need to value our bodies and save ourselves for our husbands and wives. Join the pledge to save yourselves for marriage. I have shirts and promise bracelets so you can show your support for-”
A young freshman couple stopped in front of her booth and Tracy smiled at them. …
Gods are fickle things. Fickle and numerous and given to flights of fancy. Or, sometimes, fits of jealousy. And then, rarely, a god will take interest in our world long enough to assert his or her or its influence on events. Demons fear when a god looks askance at their doings and humans are frail things in comparison.
Frail and pliable things.
Sandy scanned her computer’s monitor as her onscreen character huffed and chuffed, claws at the ready. Bodies lay strewn around her character’s form and the semi-pixelated werewolf seemed to look for its own prey as Sandy moved it around the computer generated world. …
This is part one of the “sketch” series. Rough draft little stories put together quickly. In this one, a man and woman are test subjects. One changing from man to woman, the other changing into a werewolf.
My head hurts. Badly.
And I’m cold.
My eyes crack open and the headache flares as the overhead lights drill deep into my skull.
I can’t remember where I am. I left work. I remember that. Night time. Damn project due for presentation tomorrow to our clients and they changed their RFP the day before. I was walking home and… and… and what? I can’t remember.…