The Honeypot Ch. 03 [BE / Bimbofication / TG]

Senator O’Neal stepped lightly into the hallway, her luggage bumping along behind her.  Paul stood to the side of the door.  His hands were loose against his sides and his eyes roamed ceaselessly along the hallway.  The young woman looked up at him and smiled.

“I’m ready!” she chirped and then turned to her right as Paul turned the opposite direction.

“Senator, the elevators are this way,” he told her.

“I knew that,” she answered.  A pretty red blush crept up the senator’s cheeks.  Her smile deepened and the faint hints of dimples appeared.  Turning, she walked toward her aide and continued down the hallway while he followed behind her. …

The Honeypot Ch. 02 [BE / Bimbofication / TG]

The agent’s target begins to change, her intelligence fading as her body undergoes transformation.  However, she’s not the only one dealing with sudden new thoughts and desires…

The muted chirp of Senator O’Neal’s cellphone brought her up from the depths of a bright and sunny dream.  She clutched at the dream as she woke; rarely were they as happy and simple as the one she was waking from.  Usually, she dreamed of huge, dark figures moving slowly across a shattered landscape.  She was nearly always being chased by something in those dreams while, around her, people screamed in pain and terror. …

The Honeypot Ch. 01 [BE / Bimbofication / TG]

A young agent is tasked with sabotaging a rising politician’s career and life but finds the game can change in an instant.

Chapter 1 of 3

 

The heavy silence in the old room was finally broken by a tiny ‘clink’ sound as a crystal clear ice cube shifted in a short, heavy glass.  Massive velvet curtains blocked all outside light to the room.  A huge mahogany desk lived in an oasis of soft yellow light that emanated from dark green lamps.  The world beyond was darkness and the pale, overweight man sitting behind the desk looked as if he had lived his entire life in that tiny realm.…

Jenny – Epilogue

Dave kneeled against the wall as he stared at the two furry women in front of him.  Craig’s smile was lazy as she luxuriated in the effects of the change and the enormous amount of sex the three had.  She kneeled with her thick, muscular thighs open and her long fingers slowly stroking the short fur covering her skin.  Her thick brown tail lay still behind her as she looked at the man.  The smaller donkey girl, John, crouched to the side.  Her black lips were pulled back in the suggestion of a smile; pure hatred mingled with the thrill of retribution being meted out to her former friend.…

Layers Chapter 10

What does one wear when one knows one is going to transform into a massive werewolf killing machine later in the evening?  And, yes, that works as both a “werewolf that is a killing machine” and a “werewolf-killing machine” except not a machine, per se.  I don’t need Thomas suddenly appearing in a puff of disgusting, putrid stench to tell me that “Surprise!  You were a robot all along!  Lolz!”  I can handle a lot of stuff but I think that would be my breaking point.  So, what does a young sexy werewolf lady wear?  Something you don’t particularly care about? …

Layers Chapter 9

Consider the scene.

Elaine stands at the door with a small bag of various things.  I smell salt and vinegar chips, beef jerky and the aforementioned condoms.  Mostly those because the chemical latex smell is somehow mocking my lack of foresight.  Goddamn these hormones and Stephen’s body.  That sexy, sexy body.  Elaine smells slightly anxious and something close to jealous but not quite that.  It’s a complex thing and I’m not sure how to untangle it just yet.  I don’t think it’s entirely bad.  Probably.  I like her outfit and a small piece of me quickly wonders if I’d look as cute as her in it. …

Jenny

Craig launched the shortcut to his Chrome browser with a practiced click.  His old, ragged office chair creaked as he leaned forward.  Without thought, he opened the link to his local Craigslist section and went to the ‘casual encounters’ section.  The young man brushed a few oily strands of thin brown hair away from his eyes as he browsed the ‘women for men’ listings.  He picked at a few acne scars absentmindedly with his left hand while he filtered through the ads.  Only once had he had luck with the site – if it could be called luck.  He soon learned that if a dollar sign appeared anywhere in the ad, the lady expected to be paid for her troubles. …

Layers Chapter 6

Random dreams. Something about chasing something. Sunlight? People laughing. Or is it a bonfire? Sitting around in cheap metal folding chairs, drinking, telling stories, laughing. Dogs curled up, close the fire. Bottles of beer or some other alcohol, leaning over to scratch one of the dogs between the shoulders and, mmmm… the fingers feel good between my shoulder blades.

 

I snap awake and the dream fades immediately. There was… there were people. It was happy? Warm? Where the hell am I? This isn’t my bed. Right. Right. Doggy pile. Last night. Is it still night? I turn to look at the front window and my body says hello.…

Layers Chapter 5

Pleasure in darkness.  My brain is foggy and I can feel myself struggling to wake up.  Struggling because it feels like I weigh a ton.  Fragments of the night before flash teasingly through my brain like a kinetoscope without a soundtrack.  Sex.  Claws.  Fangs.  Fur.  Little flashes of memory whirling ’round and ’round as I try to make sense of things.  There’s a … there are two pinpoints of pleasure hitting me as I wake – my chest and crotch.  I crack my eyes, moaning at the weight on me.  Elaine is on top of me, one hand on my lower stomach and another on her right breast, eyes closed, hips gyrating. …

Layers Chapter 4

The smell is intoxicating.  My smell.  I should be getting a boner but there’s nothing there.  I can’t even say that I’m feeling a ghost of one because, I’m not.  Instead, I feel this pressure building – this tiny ache below my belly button and my pulse speeds up.  There’s a … shit, what do I call it?  The inside of my – my pussy, it’s… no… hmmm… I want to touch myself and dip my fingers inside but I’m going to wait and take my time.  The inside reminds me of my mouth.  It’s there.  There’s stuff there but it’s not like stuff rubbing together constantly. …