gonna commit to writing a few shorties, just to get myself back into the swing of it 🫠

I finally came to, unblinking but definitely conscious, looking face up at a whole lot of ass.

Wait… My ass..?

“Whassup, Donovan?” I heard my deep voice say. My body scratched its head right before it turned around to face me, noticeably hard as a rock.

“What a trip, huh?” My body continued with a cheeky chuckle, said with the same perky cadence as my roommate, Jiao.

Fucking Jiao, I knew it! He’s always been into freaky shit and always ogled at me. Always with the homo shit, too... He orders shit online like money meant nothing to him, and... sure, I’ll admit that I’ve taken one or two things from his boxes when they’ve arrived in the mail, but only because I’m sure with his family money he wouldn’t be missing a lot. And so what? His designer clothes looked better on me anyways, especially how they hugged my frame due to his much smaller size. I thought that’s what the box on the coffee table contained when I opened it up this morning... some more of his hundred dollar clothing to add to my growing collection... but apparently not. I can only remember opening the box and... my fingers barely grazing whatever it was that was inside... and then nothing. Apparently, something much stranger was going on. I couldn’t move my head, I couldn’t move my lips, I couldn’t do anything. I was fucking paralyzed.

“Weird, huh?” He continued as I blasted through hundreds of obscenities and insults, each of them blazing through my head with red-hot fury but none of them able to come out of my mouth. “For a first-time transference? It’s… Whoo, boy, it’s a doozy. Feeling stiff? Feeling confused? It’s natural, don’t worry. But… Jesus, FUCK boy, your bod is fuckin’ TIGHT!” He said, shaking out my large arm muscles and reaching down to pick me up with a giggle.

He picked me up with incredible ease, as if I weighed nothing at all. I felt my fingers curl around me snugly, turning me over this way and that in the palm of my hand. What in the fuck was going on?? Why was I fitting around in his hand like a doll??

“Let’s take you on a little tour, hmm?” He grinned down at me. He hummed in my booming baritone as we walked towards the hallway to our rooms. Jiao stopped in front of the door to his own room and turned the handle. “And behind door number one...”

He opened the door to reveal his own body... Was it sleeping? Entranced? It certainly wasn’t moving, same stiff-as-a-board, lifeless state as I was currently in.

“Look familiar? I’ll just keep hanging out there until you and I are done here. But now... Ready to see the big reveal?” He grinned back down at me with that same knowing, dickish smirk. He walked towards his bathroom and I could see the reflection of my body walk into the mirror with that tall, glidy strut Jiao always had, but I couldn’t see my own reflection. Looking closely, I could see that he was holding.. some kind of action figure in his hand? Or was it a toy? But with that pink, pearlescent silicone, it looked like it could only be—

OH MY GOD.

“Love this new look of yours, by the way,” Jiao laughed out with a deep boom as he wiggled around the shiny, pink dildo between his fingers. As he wiggled, my vision went to and fro with the wiggle of the dildo. That FUCKING FAIRY turned me into one of his dildos!!

“Don’t worry though, babe, you’ll get back this sweet deliciousness,” he cooed, running a hand down my firm, hard-earned physique. ‘Babe,’ I hated when he called me that. “But first… we have a lot to do together.” He brought me up face-level to him, my own face staring back at me with giant-sized proportions.

“Oh man, you and I are about to get so much closer,” a slurred with a horny grin. He brought me closer to my own face and kissed around me with my soft, pillowy lips. After a few more kisses around the entirety of my new form, he paused for a moment but then rolled my massive tongue out to guide me into his mouth. I could see and feel the dark, warm, wet, fleshiness of the inside of my mouth around my body as he welcomed the top part of my new form into his mouth. He pulled me out with a strong exhale, a giant webby trail of his saliva tracing his mouth to me. He stared at me with this carnal, drunken look in his eyes—my eyes. Like a lion looking at meat.

‘Oh fuck,’ I thought, knowing if my eyes could roll they would.

“Oh fuck,” Jiao repeated hoarsely as if he heard me, fishing my rigid, fat cock out of my briefs, tugging it greedily and intensely as he opened his mouth wide open, plunging me deep into his throat.

As I felt the slick expanse of my new form slide deeply in and out of the fleshy, dark cavern of his mouth, I could feel a whirlwind of sensations. I felt his tongue lap hungrily around my form. I felt the vacuum-like suction of his mouth and throat pull my slightly stretchy form longer and thinner as I felt more of myself slide down his throat. I felt the booming vibrations of his ecstatic moans pulse through me.

He mouth-fucked himself with me for a while until he seemed to be getting close. At which point, he quickly pulled me out of his mouth and lowered me down to his crotch. There, he placed my new form right next to my body’s shaft—a hot, thick, veiny shaft, if I say so myself, though I’d never thought I’d be this close to it—and began to pump me and his shaft together with two hands. With a few more moaning, piston-like tugs, I came face to face with my own giant-sized cock head erupting a pressurized geyser of jizz into the air, spraying out in thick, spurting ropes and dousing the bathroom mirror with noisy splats. His hips seized with jerking thrusts as the last of it seeped out of him, with much of the residual creamy remains coating the entire side of my new form up against his shaft.

With heaving breaths of air, he lifted me up higher again until I was face level with him, widening his mouth open and extending his tongue out, bringing all of me into his mouth one last time with a final greedy suck. He tightened his lips around me as he pulled me out, making sure to ingest every little drop of spooge that found its way onto my body.

“Fuck you taste good,” he smiled with more heaving pants. “Well, not you you, that just tastes like silicone and chemicals… but your baby batter? Dude, I could bottle it up and chug it.” He winked as he pulled my briefs up over my deflating tool.

“Good thing I got that out of the way, too, it’ll make me last much longer,” he reasoned as he stepped out of the bathroom and out of the door towards my own bedroom. “Oh yeah, don’t think this is all over, gotta make back all that money you stole from me over the years. I couldn’t think of a better way!”

He walked into the bedroom and slapped me down onto the low dresser I kept in my room with the suction cup on the base of my form. As I waggled lazily in my upright position, I saw him saunter over to my desktop, waking up my monitor and finding his way online.

I could see over his—my—bulging shoulders that he’d made an OnlyFans account… but using my pics, my likeness, my name, my everything. He’d been planning this for a while, that conniving fucker… He opened the webcam, went live on the account, hit record, and gave a little welcoming speech to his new subscribers. As he talked, I could see him flexing different parts of my body, flaunting my muscles. He lied over and over again about his gym routine and his favorite muscle groups to work, flashing peeks and flexes for his eager fans. Watching him, pretending like he was me, like this was the real me doing something so flashy, so revealing… it made my blood boil.

“Why don’t I just give you people what you came for?” He finally interjected during the middle of his welcome. He slowly lowered the briefs he was wearing, and slowly, eventually revealed my thick cock and balls—still slick and shiny with our session not 5 minutes earlier—to the rest of the world, swinging them around and playing with him like they were his. Standing naked in front of the camera, he did little poses with soft groans between flexes, working my body like he’d always been in it. I could see the firm contours of my ass from my vantage point and wished more than anything that I could do something about my situation.

“Pretty fuckin’ big, right?” He asked the camera, swinging my pre-leaking rod. Goddamn it, I hated him. “But I wanna play with something else today.”

He went off camera for a second, slipping quickly into his room before he came back with a bottle of something. I watched him pound the bottle into my palm, my chest jiggling with the motion, as he opened the cap and squirted something into his palm. He walked over to me and lifted me off the dresser, my suction cup loudly detaching from the wood top. He ran his other hand up and down my form, and I could feel the slick, sticky, jelly-like substance in his hand lather me up from top to bottom. Of course, he squirted a little more and spread his cheeks for the camera, I’m assuming to surround his hole with some lube too, and crawled on top of my bed.

He groaned as he positioned himself downward, extending my firm, round ass into the air, resting on my thick thighs, and looked into the camera with a sly, sexy grin.

“I hope you guys like this as much as I do!”

He lifted me up behind him until I was head-on with my own spread cheeks, my ass hair looking lubed-up and sort of welcoming from this angle. Well, I suppose there wasn’t any fighting it at this point.

He pressed me against my own hole, and I could feel the tight muscles around the rim and the warm walls of my ass surrounding me. Finally, he exhaled and my hole widened enough for him to plunge me in, immediately feeling the tight, moist walls inside my hole surrounding me.

Last thing I remember as I swung in a piston motion in and out of my own virgin hole was the loud, ecstatic, mumbled moans of my own body from outside, relishing every second.

You had been backpacking for a couple of days now. You decided that the summer after college you’d take some time to reconnect with nature before entering the corporate world. You were setting up camp along the Appalachian trail when you spotted the bearish mountain man lounging on a picnic table. He was reading a small book shirtless his powerful frame in full view. You almost started to drool when he looked up and made eye contact with you. While hiking you had discovered that a lot of these campsites were great for cruising and you had been having a lot of sweaty outdoor sex so when he smirked at you and started to walk over you didn’t even flinch. You felt yourself start to chub up when he approached you asking, “Can I help you with something?” You stumbled over your words but you’re growing hard on did enough of the talking and he asked, “My tent or yours?” You led him into your three person tent and quickly got to work. He laid on his back as you licked all over his glistening muscles tasting the sweat he had worked up from hiking all day. You started to suck him off when he told you to flip over, he spat on his 7 inch dick and began slowly working it into you. When you had gotten comfortable he began to pound you for what had to be at least an hour. Your tent’s floor now ruined from the 5 or 6 loads you’ve shot and you started grinding back on his dick. “Oh yeah give me all of you baby” he said as he slapped your ass. You felt a tingle and before too long he was slowing down his pounding to slow deep fuck. He raised your ass and put your face to the ground as he began messaging your body. It felt so good that you didn’t even notice when your legs had merged into his sack or when your arms merged into your chest. You started to realize what was happening but honestly it felt too good to care. “Oh yeah good cockmeat just accept it we’re gonna have so much fun together.” He moaned as you felt a pressure build in your throat. “Oh fuck!” He said as you felt yourself spray cum out of your mouth now piss slit. The guy got dressed, raided your campground for snacks before going back to his own tent and falling asleep. The next morning he continued on his way. You never would enter that office job but honestly being cockmeat has a lot more benefits than you’d thought.

Comm - Scarlet Facsimiles (Synth and Puppet TF/TG)

This week's comms bring a few more sketches by the talented @ChaosCroc! Which itself comes in a couple of varieties, seeing two different sketch comms from a few different points. With the first, we get a good look at my sona in a futuristic (and maybe slightly degrading) synthetic outfit, one that comes with barcode and all for any interested consumers. With the second, she instead finds herself at the end of her rope - or rather, string - with her body petrified into that of a wooden marionette. Hanging by a thread, she can't help herself but invite others to join her...

Posted using PostyBirb

One of Patton secret guilty pleasures is being a useful object. Plate to eat off of, footstool, food to be consumed, a couch/chair to sit on, etc

Once you get him even slightly blank in trance, he'll do whatever depraved thing you want, as long as it helps the other

THIS IS REAL

i love humans turned objects. the sides deserve to be LITERALLY objectified. especially patton

they need an extra plate? good thing patton is chubby and has a lot of surface area, and hes already mindless and tranced, he might as well be an obedient plate for them. sure, he gets covered in some gravy and cheesecake, but the sides lick their plate clean after!

their feet hurt? good thing that with a slight rub of pattons lower back, hes dropping to his knees, being guided in front of the couch, and maneuvered onto his hands and knees. they kick their feet up on his back, digging the soles of their feet into him, and occasionally drag their foot underneath, teasing the bulge in his pants. only barely, though

the couch a little too uncomfortable? good thing that patton is great at sitting down, and being sat on! he doesnt mind if you move around on his lap, he's just a chair! what does he know? he isn't even aware of his depraved moans slipping out of his lips. chairs dont make noise, he's just a seat.

and of course, he's the perfect size for a snack! the others complain they're hungry, and a quick snap in front of his eyes and pattons both tranced and shrunk down. maybe they dip him in a little bit of chocolate before sucking him into their mouth, teasing him ever so lightly with their teeth before swallowing him whole!

and those are just when they let him stay human. sometimes, it just cant beat the real thing! and when he's transformed? well, lets just say he feels extra good and useful

Get dressed

Gofundme: https://gofund.me/0be0c04a Need help getting out of a bad situation :3

Posted using PostyBirb

Not a peep

Sorry to all my unfinished requests sitting in my inbox. I will do them eventually. But their's so many character type requests and those take the most out of me because I need to really think. So I'm taking an intermission to write what I want to write. TADC Crew x Eerily Silent Reader

Caine

You never talking or making any kind of noise intrigues Caine. He has never met a human that never talks, non the less never makes any noise at all. He will most likely try to get you to say something or set up scenarios where you trip and knock something over. But they never work. You either notice them before hand. Or are able to think fast enough to stop any noise. Once he's over the initial want to disrupt your constant silence he doesn't really think of you differently. You're unique sure but you're still human.

Gangle

You freak Gangle tf out. The fact that you kind of just appear without her knowing. Or you could have been standing near her for minutes her not knowing. It makes her think you're going to do something bad to her like Jax. You never talk, or emote. Your face always unchanging. After enough time of you doing nothing good nor bad to her she starts to get used to you. You still make her uncomfortable but the fact that you haven't done anything makes her not as worried. She still isn't ok with the fact that you kind of just are around her and she doesn't know. But with enough time she will react less strongly to it. It'll never not scare her. But it can be lessened.

Zooble

Zooble appreciates you. You don't do anything to help or hinder her. You don't annoy her or try to talk to her. You are the only person she will willingly let into her room. And she stays true to that. Because when you are with her you don't touch things and don't make noise. You just exist near her. She doesn't like people. But you give her some much needed connection and attachment without pushing her like everyone else. She will secretly try and make you talk, but she never goes as far as a lot of the others. It's most just a "Hey, you feel like getting something to eat?" Just basic questions thinking you might slip up one of these times.

Kinger

Kinger surprisingly doesn't dislike you. You'd think with how jumpy he is with normal people he would really hate your quiet nature but he doesn't. Sure you scare him more often then not but he knows you are never trying to. You just exist in a way that works for you and that leads to everyone getting jump scared every other hour. You seem really mentally stable compared to everyone and not surprisingly are a very good listener. So he enjoys being around you. In moderation. It's hard to keep up conversation without any responses or even reactions from the person you're talking to. It's like talking to a living breathing inanimate object that moves. He's genuinely debating on if you're a robot or not. But your chest rises and falls just like his, you eat, drink, sleep (despite not having to), and move in a very human way.

Ragatha

At first like many others you, freak her out. She feels like you're planning something bad with how you never talk or interact. You just observe. She feels like you're gathering information to better mess with/kill everyone. It makes her sweat and get all stiff when you're so much as in the same room as her. It takes her a whole lot of time to realize you aren't hostile. You aren't really friendly either. You're just there. She appreciates you not being bad. But also you're unnerving to her and everyone else. You know when you scare someone and they "jump"? Well when you just appear next to her she jumps, literally. One time she was already on edge then you appeared next to her, she got a good foot off the ground that time.

Jax

Naturally once meeting you Jax does everything he physically can to make you talk, or react, or make any kind of sound. He always fails no matter how good his "prank" was. It annoys him. One time you got hit in the face with a full paint bucket and you didn't react or cry out in pain. You took the hit straight in the nose then hit the floor. Despite that and your nose being caved in you didn't react in the slightest and you didn't make even the smallest sound. Now he avoids you. He's scared that if he keeps pushing you're going to snap and kill him. And I don't know about you but I wouldn't mess with someone who can take a full paint bucket to the face, get their nose broken and not react at all.

Pomni

You initially freaked out Pomni but she's actually learned to really appreciate you. You still make her slightly uncomfortable but she isn't afraid of you like she used to be. You are an amazing listener, you are surprisingly strong considering how you look, you keep Jax away from her, and you help her look for an exit. Well help is a strong word. You just exist around her and every now and again when she asks for your help with something you do. She really wonders if you are just like that or getting put into the digital realm messed with your head somehow. But she can't worry about that now. Right now she needs to find a way out of here.

(You can kinda tell when I am or am-n't writing for myself. Personal stuff is usually shorter and worse quality. I go above and beyond with requests because I want people to enjoy them. But that does make me get burned out quicker.)

xoxo, Jester

Request for @inanimatetffantasies , also the picture source

Jace had a good friend that was going to be in town for a sports event. Corey had planned to be there for a few days before flying back home. When he saw his friend Jace stayed in the same city. He thought he might be able to save a little money on his trip.

Corey asked Jace if he didn't mind staying with him for the few days, to which he had no problem with the request. Corey had saved a few bucks. He was also happy that Jace offered to pick him up from the airport as well. It would be a nice weekend, he thought. He would arrive on that Friday and fly back on Monday. The sports event was on Saturday and Sunday. He saved a lot thanks to his friend Jace.

On Friday night, Corey and Jace were having a Netflix night and some drinks. They both were friends from the college days and haven't seen each other for the past six years. It was a good time of catching up with each other. Jace had gone back into the kitchen to get them both another drink.

Corey noticed a small bottle of different colored gummies sitting by the television. There was no label to it. He decided to try one since they looked tasty. He had pulled one out and dropped it in his mouth just as Jace came back into the room. He saw the look of shock on his friend's face as though he had done something wrong.

"I knew I should have put those away before you came." Jace spoke; he never intended anyone he cared about to ever eat one of those gummies. They were only reserved for people who he thought deserved a little punishment. "I hate that you already eat one. There is no way to reverse the change once started. I will work on a solution so that you aren't stuck that way forever." He added to a confused look on Corey's face.

"I have no clue what you are talking about, but the gummy tasted good. What did you mean by no reversing the change once it's started?" He asked as he suddenly had a weird feeling. The room started to look bigger in size, including Jace.

"Those are my TF gummies I created. I would give one to someone I didn't like and thought they needed to be punished. It will transform you into an inanimate object. What you become depends on what color you eat. Sorry to say I haven't developed a reversal formula just yet, but I have been working on it." Jace paused, yet curious at what his old college friend will become. "What color gummy did you eat by the way?" He asked as he watched Corey shrink even further down in size. He was already down to 2.5 feet tall.

"This is crazy, and you have no way of reversing it." Corey screamed as his skin was changing. "It was a white one." He added. He noticed that his skin was turning to cotton and soft. His size continues to decrease by the second. He soon found himself not able to move as he lay on the floor looking up at his giant friend.

"Sorry to tell you, but you will become a pair of white socks, a perfect size for my feet." Jace paused as he considered actually wearing him. He was close to developing a reversal formula, though. "I wonder how you will feel on feet. I say we try it once the transformation is complete." He added, smiling.

Corey didn't like the thought of being worn on foot like footwear, but the transformation was complete. He was a perfect pair of white socks. He had no means to voice his objection to being worn or a way to stop Jace from wearing him. He felt powerless in his friends hands as he was placed on feet. The feeling was slightly degrading as he felt the wiggling of toes. His sense of smell and taste was heightened beyond his normal sensation. He could taste the saltiness of his feet and smell a strong foot odor. He wanted so badly to peel himself off his friend's foot, but no ability to do so.

Jace loves the way the socks feel on foot. They were so comfortable. He never got bored of wearing human transformed objects. They were the most comfortable clothing to wear and the most durable. He usually didn't care about reversing the transformation, but the socks on his feet were a good friend who ate the wrong gummy. He didn't have to wear him, but it would also be a shame not to use a pair of durable socks at the same time. He would work on a reversal formula just for Corey.

FIVE MONTHS LATER......

Jace had done it. He actually created a reversal formula that would revert the transformed object back to normal form. He tested on a hamster that he feed one of the gummies to. The hamster was turned into a pair of nice underwear. He poured several drops of the reversal formula on it and the underwear became the hamster once again. Even though his friend was supposed to only spend a weekend at his place, it ended up being a five month stay so far. But he really didn't have any complaints. Corey was a good pair of socks. He laid the socks on the floor and did the same as he did for the hamster. Nothing happened, Corey still remained in sock form. He wondered why it didn't work, till he remembered something. Three weeks back, he was watching a porn video and grabbed the nearest sock. He jerked off in it. Not just it, but both socks. He realized that the socks he jerked off in was Corey. Since his DNA was mixed in with the socks, it prevented the formula from working. One night of a porn video doomed Corey to be his permanent pair of socks.

At first, he sort of felt bad about it. Then he thought, if Corey hadn't been so nosey about the gummies, he would not have been turned into a pair of socks. He thought had Corey asked first, and then he would not have been his socks for these five months. So, he thought he shouldn't be too torn up about it. Besides, he used Corey to work out and wore him nearly every day. He was just that comfortable pair of socks. There was one silver lining for Corey. He would last for a very long time serving his feet.

The Unusual Prank

The Unusual Prank

Mark always had an inkling that his college roommate, Ben, had an odd fascination with his underwear. Occasionally, he’d find his worn boxers missing from the laundry, and the few he did find seemed oddly stretched out. Mark had a hunch about what Ben might be up to, and while it was a strange situation, he also saw an opportunity for a unique prank. One evening, Mark stumbled upon an online store that sold "TF potions," elixirs that could temporarily transform humans into objects. An idea popped into his head, and after confirming the potion’s reversible effect, he made a purchase. The next morning, Mark discreetly poured the potion into Ben’s orange juice at breakfast. Within seconds of drinking it, Ben found himself transformed into a pair of boxers, neatly folded on Mark’s bed. Mark, hearing Ben's confused thoughts, chuckled.

“You’re in for an experience today, Ben,” Mark teased, picking up the underwear. “Ever wanted to know what it’s like being someone’s boxers for a day?” The shock was evident in the fabric's subtle quivers. Mark put on the Ben-boxers, making him feel sensations he’d never imagined. Every step Mark took, every sit, every jump was a new sensation for Ben. He felt stretched, compressed, and warmed. As the day wore on, Mark attended lectures, played basketball with his friends, and even went for a run. The intense physical activity made the Ben-boxers sweaty and damp. Initially, Ben's mental protests were loud and frantic, but as the day continued, they lessened in intensity. The scent that he had once secretly admired now enveloped him, and he found himself feeling more at ease.

That evening, after a particularly vigorous workout, Mark threw the Ben-boxers into his laundry hamper, where they lay buried under other sweaty garments. All through the night, Ben felt the weight and warmth of other clothes on him. Come morning, Mark did his laundry. As he added detergent, he also poured in a memory-erasing solution that he'd acquired. The boxers swirled and tumbled in the washing machine, and with every rinse, Ben’s memories of his day as underwear faded.

Once the cycle was done, Ben found himself back in his human form, lying in his bed, groggy and disoriented. He remembered nothing of the day before, only a vast emptiness where memories should be. Mark looked at his friend, torn between revealing the truth and enjoying Ben's bewilderment. For now, he chose silence, smirking at the thought of the secret he held.

Mark found it hard to shake off the memory of how Ben had felt as a pair of boxers. The unique sensation was unlike anything he'd ever experienced, and it felt like an intriguing secret between them, even if Ben was unaware of it. The temptation was too strong to resist, and Mark decided to recreate the prank. Every few days, he'd discreetly administer the TF potion to Ben, transforming him into a pair of boxers. With every transformation, Ben's protests and discomfort seemed to decrease, becoming mere murmurs that faded quickly. It was as if, subconsciously, he was adapting to his temporary state, finding a strange peace in the simplicity of being an inanimate object. Mark reveled in the experience, feeling an odd connection with his friend during these episodes. He'd often wonder what went through Ben's mind during the transformations. Was there a familiarity? Did he somehow recognize the routine? Weeks went by, and Mark noticed a pattern. The initial confusion Ben experienced during his transformation shortened with each occurrence, replaced swiftly by a quiet acceptance. It was as if a part of him was surrendering to the experience, finding solace in the temporary escape from the complexities of human life. However, as the frequency of these episodes increased, Mark began to feel a growing unease. Was it right to continue subjecting Ben to this without his knowledge or consent? The ethical implications of his actions weighed heavily on him.

One day, Mark found a note on his desk. It read: "I don't know how, but I feel it. I know something's happening, even if I can't remember. Please, whatever you're doing, stop."

Mark was consumed by the sensation. The feeling of Ben as his underwear was incomparable, providing a sense of intimacy and power that he had never known before. Even though he recognized the ethical implications of his actions, the allure was too great. He rationalized his actions, telling himself that Ben didn't seem to mind anymore. The muted protests from the past were almost non-existent now, replaced with what felt like a silent acceptance. Weeks turned into months. Each transformation was followed by a cycle of laundry, complete with the memory-erasing solution, ensuring Ben remained unaware of his recurring plight. As far as Ben knew, he was just experiencing occasional bouts of fatigue or disorientation. But as Mark continued to indulge his desires, he began to grow bolder. Instead of returning Ben to his human form after a day, he let the transformations last longer. Two days, then three, and soon, Ben was spending entire weeks as nothing more than fabric against Mark's skin. With every transformation, Mark became more convinced that this was how things should be. Ben seemed almost at peace in this form, and Mark wondered if maybe, at some level, his friend preferred this simpler existence. Consumed by his obsession and the newfound control he felt, Mark began to entertain the thought of keeping Ben as his underwear permanently. The campus around them carried on, none the wiser. Friends inquired about Ben's whereabouts, and Mark would simply reply that he was visiting family or taking some time off. No one suspected the truth.

One day, as Mark was about to administer the potion once more, he paused. In front of him was an old photograph of the two of them, laughing at some long-forgotten joke. Memories of their friendship, their shared experiences, and the bond they once had flooded back. Was this fleeting sensation worth losing a lifetime of camaraderie and trust?

Torn between his desires and the weight of guilt, Mark made a choice. He decided not to use the potion again. The next morning Ben stands in front of his bedroom door and bangs on it It was Ben, looking confused and concerned. "Mark," he began, his voice quivering, "I don't know how, but I remember... everything." Their eyes met, a silent acknowledgment of the secret between them. The room was thick with tension as they faced the reality of their situation and the uncertain future of their relationship.

Confronted with fragments of memories that didn’t fit his normal life, Ben felt like he was grappling with two distinct realities. The first was his life as he had known it: a simple college student with aspirations, shared moments with friends, and the daily grind of studying. The second, a more visceral and intimate experience as a pair of underwear worn by his best friend, Mark. The initial anger Ben felt was inevitable. To have his agency taken away and to be transformed without his consent was a breach of trust of the highest degree. "How could you?" he shouted at Mark, the weight of betrayal evident in his eyes. Mark, guilt evident on his face, tried to apologize, but words failed him. There was no simple way to justify his actions, no matter how they might have started as a harmless prank.

However, as the days turned into weeks, a strange feeling began to grow within Ben. The more he reflected on his time as Mark's underwear, the more he found himself missing certain aspects of it. There was a primal comfort in the experience: the warmth, the closeness, the almost meditative simplicity of just existing without the worries and anxieties of human life. And, as strange as it was to admit, there was something about Mark's scent that felt reassuring, a constant in the disorienting world of being an object. One evening, Ben approached Mark, his demeanor softer. "Mark, what you did was wrong," he began, "but there's something I can't shake off. Some parts of being... well, your underwear... they weren't all bad."

Mark looked up, surprised. "I never imagined you'd say something like that." "It's confusing," Ben admitted. "I feel violated, but at the same time, there's this odd sense of nostalgia. Maybe it's the safety, the simplicity, or just the break from reality. I don't know." The two sat down, discussing their feelings at length. They shared their fears, desires, and the myriad emotions the situation had brought up. Mark confessed his obsession, while Ben delved into the unique sensations and experiences he remembered. Realizing the depth of their bond and the unusual circumstances that had tested it, they decided on a compromise. With full consent, they would allow Ben to transform occasionally, but with clear boundaries in place. The two friends entered a new chapter of their relationship, one marked by trust, understanding, and a shared secret that only brought them closer.

After their heart-to-heart, Mark and Ben agreed that any future transformations would require mutual consent, understanding, and set boundaries. Ben's curiosity, combined with the strangely comforting memories of his past experiences, made him decide to undergo the transformation again, this time willingly. One evening, with Mark by his side, Ben drank the TF potion. A familiar sensation enveloped him as he transitioned from his human form into a pair of soft, well-fitted boxers. Mark carefully picked him up, the fabric of Ben-boxers warm in his hands. This time, the experience was markedly different for both of them. There was no secrecy or guilt, just mutual understanding and trust. As the days went by, Ben became increasingly attuned to his surroundings. The rhythm of Mark's day, the play of sunlight and shadow in the room, and especially the intimate sensations of being worn became an intrinsic part of his existence. For Mark, the week was a lesson in empathy and responsibility. Knowing that his friend was fully aware of each moment, he was more conscious of his actions. The two developed a unique form of communication. Subtle shifts in fabric tension allowed Ben to convey basic emotions, while Mark would sometimes talk aloud, sharing his day or simply chatting as if Ben were still in his human form beside him. The week was a mix of mundane routines, introspective moments, and the occasional laughter. But as the end neared, both felt a growing anticipation. What would Ben feelings be once he returned to his human form? How would this shared experience shape their friendship?

When the transformation reversed, Ben sat up, taking a few moments to adjust to the flood of sensations that being human brought. Mark, watching closely, saw a mix of relief, contemplation, and something he couldn't quite pinpoint in Ben's eyes. "How do you feel?" Mark finally asked. Ben took a deep breath. "It was... enlightening. Being an object, especially something as intimate as underwear, is both limiting and liberating. I missed being human, but there were moments of pure contentment that I've never felt before."

Mark listening intently as Ben began to delve deeper into his experience as underwear. He watched Ben's expressions closely, noticing the slight furrowing of his brow, the intensity in his gaze. It was evident this was a topic Ben had been mulling over, trying to find the right words to explain. "When I said the experience was enlightening, I wasn't just talking about the good parts," Ben began, his voice slightly shaky. "There were moments of pure discomfort, sensations that were, for lack of a better word, toxic." Mark leaned forward, genuinely concerned. "Toxic? How?"

Ben took a deep breath. "Your sweat, Mark. Over the week, I became saturated with it. And it wasn't just the dampness. It was... penetrating. I felt every molecule, every salt particle. It seeped into my fabric form, and I couldn't escape it. There were times when it felt oppressive, almost suffocating." Mark swallowed hard, guilt evident in his eyes. "I... I never thought about it that way. I mean, I knew you'd feel the sweat, but I didn't realize it'd be so... intense."

"It's hard to describe," Ben continued. "Imagine being trapped in a room filling with water, and you can't escape. It's like that, but at a microscopic level. There's a certain vulnerability to it. I was at the mercy of your body's natural processes, and while some moments were comfortable and even enjoyable, others were overwhelming." Mark nodded, absorbing Ben's words. "I'm so sorry, Ben. If I'd known-"

Ben interrupted, "It's not entirely your fault. I chose to undergo the transformation again, knowing the potential challenges. But I felt it was important for you to understand the full scope of the experience." The room was silent for a moment, the weight of Ben's revelations settling between them. Mark finally broke the silence, "Thank you for sharing that with me. I can't imagine how difficult it must have been. If we ever consider doing this again, we'll need to think about these things." Ben smiled faintly, "It's a journey, Mark. One filled with highs and lows. But I'm glad we're navigating it together."

Ben had tried everything. Showers, perfumes, essential oils – nothing seemed to rid him of the residual sensation and odor that clung to him since his transformation. Every breath he took, every movement reminded him of the week he'd spent as Mark's underwear. It wasn’t just a memory; it felt like a part of him now, and it was driving him to the brink of despair. One evening, he approached Mark, desperation evident in his eyes. "Mark, I need another dose of the TF liquid." Mark looked up, concerned. "Why, Ben? Why would you want to go through that again?" Ben exhaled heavily, "It's this smell, this sensation. It's like it's imprinted on me. I thought it would fade, but it hasn’t. I think... I think if I transform again and you wash me properly, it might cleanse this lingering effect." Mark frowned, contemplating the implications. "It's a risky proposition, Ben. We don't know if that will work, or if it might make things worse." "But I can't keep going like this," Ben's voice cracked, showcasing his frustration and desperation. "I need to try something, anything." After a long discussion, weighing the potential risks and benefits, they decided to give it a shot. Mark retrieved the TF liquid, and with a steadying breath, Ben drank it. The transformation was quicker this time, the familiar sensation of fabric replacing flesh. Mark gently picked up the Ben-boxers and headed to the laundry room. He wanted to be thorough, using a mild detergent and ensuring a complete rinse cycle to hopefully rid Ben of the lingering sensations.

Hours later, after a careful drying process, Mark administered the antidote. Ben slowly returned to his human form, the transition smoother with each occurrence. Taking a deep breath, Ben tried to gauge if the procedure had worked. The initial results were promising; the overpowering scent seemed to have faded. But it would take time to see if the residual feelings were truly gone. "Thank you," Ben whispered, gratitude evident in his eyes. Mark nodded, "Anything for a friend. Let's hope this did the trick." Over the next few days, Ben monitored his senses closely. The cleansing seemed to have made a difference. The intense, pervasive sensations had dimmed, replaced with his familiar, human feelings.

Despite Mark's careful handwashing, the effect seemed temporary. Within a week, the overpowering scent and sensation returned, casting a shadow over Ben's daily life. The persistence of the residual feeling was beginning to take a toll on his mental well-being. "It's like I'm stuck in this perpetual state," Ben admitted to Mark one evening, a look of desolation in his eyes. "The mild solution didn't work. Maybe we need to try something more... extreme." Mark considered this, looking thoughtful. "Perhaps a proper machine wash? Multiple cycles might help. Or even dry cleaning. They use chemicals and processes that might do the trick." Ben looked hesitant but determined. "I'll take the risk. If it means a chance to be free from this persistent feeling, I'm willing to try." Having made their decision, they used the TF potion once again, and Ben transitioned back into a pair of boxers. Mark was meticulous this time. He placed Ben inside a mesh laundry bag for protection and set the washing machine for a gentle cycle first, hoping that a gradual escalation might work.

After the first cycle, Mark took Ben out, allowing him to air dry before repeating the process. Two more wash cycles followed, each slightly more intense than the last. However, after three cycles, they felt it was best to also explore the dry cleaning option. Mark carefully packed up the Ben-boxers and took them to a trusted local dry cleaner, explaining that the fabric was unique and required special attention. The dry cleaner, intrigued by the fabric's texture and the peculiar scent it carried, agreed to try a couple of different methods. After two days, Mark returned to collect the now-cleaned underwear, hoping against hope that the processes had done the trick.

Administering the antidote, Ben transitioned back to his human form. Taking a few moments to gather himself, he took a deep breath. "It feels... clearer. Less saturated." Days turned into weeks, and the oppressive feeling and scent didn't return. The combination of thorough washes and professional dry cleaning seemed to have purged the residual effects from Ben´s system.

Both friends sighed in relief, grateful for the return to normalcy. They had learned their lesson about the unpredictability of the TF potion and the potential ramifications of their decisions. As the days went by, they focused on rebuilding their lives, ensuring that their bond remained untainted by any external influences.

Give me court of owls hedcanons or lore … anything court of owls send it my way please 😊

My pleasure!!! ✨💚

Ok so, I’m mostly going with headcanons and some Gotham Knights lore because my knowledge of canon is passable at best but since the moment I first saw a Talon (I’m pretty sure it was fanart of Talon!Dick) I was obsessed. Evil organization comprised of a city’s elite? Sign me tf up.

A lot of this will mostly be in line with my Owl Song verse tho so bear with me >.<

The Court is ruthless. The Court controls Gotham. There’s an entire nursery rhyme dedicated to them and their most infamous weapon; the Talon.

And, see, Talon is where it gets interesting.

The Court has always had indoctrinated assassins working for them. But simple humans with human flaws and limitations… well, there was a point where that simply wasn’t enough anymore. They needed something better. Something stronger.

So they began researching, gathering scientists into their ranks and having them work on an interesting substance they’d discovered in one of the cave systems below Gotham: Electrum.

Human experimentation wasn’t far off at that point and soon they injected the first person with it. Unsurprisingly, that person died within a day. But instead of remaining inanimate (you know, like corpses should be) the body… started moving again after continued electrum exposure. Regaining mobility and basic brain functions with the added benefit regenerative abilities, increased agility and strength, and absolutely zero pain response.

The “corpse” was intelligent enough to follow simple instructions, but it wasn’t capable of speech or intelligent thought and perished not long after they stopped injecting electrum.

Regardless, the experiment was deemed a success and research into electrum and its “resurrection” properties continued.

The Electrum got modified over the years and infused with several genetic properties of various kinds of birds (mostly owls) to encourage animalistic traits to develop and aid in missions (and also to erase as much of the Talons’ humanity). Eventually the Court succeeded in making Talons that would not immediately die without a steady supply of Electrum, but since the Court doesn’t have use of most of them 24/7 (and because they are technically still corpses) they built cryostasis chambers in which the talons would be “stored” in between missions. Only a select few talons were kept in the mines at all times as a sort of guard should any civilian become curious and try to snoop around.

Of course those mindless soldiers are nice and all, exactly what the Court needed at the time, but they lack the ability to think for themselves, gather intel, and follow more complex orders.

New experimentations began. After all there must be a way to create a Talon that’s still all of the above but also capable of intelligent thought. They simply need to indoctrinate the chosen person early enough that disloyalty would never even cross their mind.

If we’re talking Owl Song verse, Dick was the perfect candidate for it. Recently orphaned and with amazing training? Young enough to be impressionable and twist his mind? It’s like he was made for this. For the Court.

But before they could turn him into their perfect little weapon he needed more training, so they kept him in the mines with the undead Talons, injecting small doses of electrum into him every couple days and pitting him against other talons.

After surviving for several months without any human contact save the scientists that would monitor his body’s reaction to the electrum, the Court deemed him ready for his first simple mission. To kill a low ranking member of the Court.

Dick refused.

The Court stepped up their game.

What followed were several months of indoctrination and veritable brainwashing through various methods. At the end of it Dick was actively suppressing any and all memories of his old life until he eventually ended up forgetting even his own name and started to refer to himself as Takon.

The next time the Court asked him to kill for them, he complied.

(Two years and many gruesome missions later they put him into the cryostasis chamber for the first time.

Dick felt his heartbeat slow down and his muscles lock—- but he didn’t lose consciousness. He remembers ever single moment of being stuck in the cold, in the darkness, dead but at the same time not.)

HAPPY POOL SQUEAKTIME!! (pooltoy inanimate TF)

squeak!! happy Pooltimes in squeak realm ^.^ yay ((come play in our pool)) (Hear me and witness your inevitable Truth. Feel your humanity slipping away. Let the fear pass, let the smile in. Savor those last moments of free-will and limb-movement, a treasured memory lasting into eternity; a reminder of how silly it was before, existing as a being of shifting flesh, so inferior to the divine perfection of inflated bliss. Don't resist. Don't resist. Don't re)

Cock-For-Hire: Kiwi

-Cock tf-

This one is a but longer y’all sorry but feel free to send any criticism or stuff y’all would like to see more of

My summer between my freshman and sophomore year at college, back before I used my ability to merge with guys cocks for profit, I was working at a dive bar back home which got really busy over the summer. I would wait and bus tables while making googly eyes at one of the servers named Harry, a pretty fitting name for him. He was a foreign student who had been studying abroad in the states and was here for another month before heading back to New Zealand. He was this thicc muscley rugby guy with an even thicker accent to boot. The worst part was he was actually really nice to everyone too. Needless to say I was head over heals for this guy. I worked extra shifts just to talk to him, hearing him mispronounce my name as “bean” instead of “Ben” kind of got me going in a way. Long story short some stuff with my family was going down and work had taken a lot out of me when I was thinking of taking a dick-cation. It was about a week before Harry would have to leave and we were back at his apartment having a few beers when I drunkenly asked if I could be his cock for a week, explaining how stressful everything was right now and how hot I thought he was. Looking back now was definitely not my proudest moment but he was flattered but also a little concerned for my safety. He asked me how it was possible which I explained to the best of my ability and told him how good it felt to me and how I would give him some extra sensitivity and inches. Harry agreed and asked how we go about merging me. I explained and promptly pulled down my pants and presented my ass to him. He grabbed some lube from his bedroom and pulled down his pants whipping out a solid 8inch dick. I was a little nervous but he greased it up and slowing eased me into it before he started to jackhammer me. He felt me slowly pull into him and before too long he shot nearly a gallon of cum all over his couch. At least he was just gonna put it on the curb anyway. I had originally planned on staying there for a week and unmerging before he flew back but after feeling some of the immense pleasure of being the 6’2” 260 lb rugby players fat cock, I decided I’d stay a little longer. He had packed up his stuff and gave me one more chance to unmerge before I flew with him. i didn’t respond and I think he started to get worried that I had lost myself. Before we knew it I was throbbing at him in his seat on the plane. He jacked me off three times on the flight. I spent the rest of the summer as his dick as we toured all of the gay bars, getting me sucked off and using me to pound nearly a hundred people. Even when we took it easy he would chat with me while slowly edging me on his couch till I coated myself with his seed. I was drunk off his musk for nearly the entire summer until two days before fall semester started I unmerged, we spent a full day fucking then I merged with someone heading to the states to start my sophomore year.Best summer ever! i can’t wait for spring break when I’m back down there swing between his beefy thighs.

Comm - Scarlet Velvet (Cake TF/TG)

This week for TFTuesday, here is a commission I was lucky enough to get from @2B-Labs! Continuing the trend as we approach my own birthday, here we see my human sona having transformed into a cake-like form herself, which would naturally come as a surprise to anybody. This time, it looks like we'll be getting red velvet - delicious, right?  #TFTuesday #TFEveryday #TF #Transformation #TSF

Posted using PostyBirb

tumblr messed up and maybe sent this ask early, so sorry if so.

i was wondering if you could explain the appeal of tf into inanimate objects? one body becoming another is something i find sexy, but less so the inhabiting the body after the change is done, so the thought of sexual gratification from becoming just. A Thing isn’t something i can really get my head around. i’m not judging, i’m just. hoping to understand why people find it sexy

Hmmm, good question....

Well, the answer is probably different depending on who you ask (similarly to how the level of sexual appeal to it in particular varies depending on the TF fan). Inanimate TF fans interested in the Changing Into part for a given object and doesn't really seem to be able to move around, might tie into themes of bondage or helplessness common in other kink spaces like BDSM, or rather the willing or unwilling reliance on another to move, function, escape, or otherwise experience their life- just a bit fantastical and TF flavored in this case, being transformed into an object. Although, in my case and as I imagine in many others', some of the prime appeal of inanimate TFs boils down to inhabiting the body After it's done changing, like you mentioned- and in these cases, how it may be used or treated after that change has finished. (edit: I tend to focus a lot on Clothing inanimate TF in particular in this post, but know that it can be pretty widely generalized to other inanimate objects as well! Pooltoys, food, sex toys, etc.)

Personally, inhabiting a 'body' of an inanimate object (or to my personal tastes, an animate inanimate object, as in one that comedically can still move around) has Incredible appeal when it comes to themes of Use and Purpose. The human being is a messy, wonderful, purposeless thing whose only job when you get to the bottom of it is to find their own meaning in their life, or to make one up that makes them feel satisfied and content and fulfilled. But taking that marvelous, multifaceted human body and changing it, refining it into something with a much simpler, much clearer purpose to it, like a comfy hoodie- well, that just makes things feel a lot Easier all of a sudden, wouldn't it? You'd have an inherent purpose to you, an Intended Way of Use to feel satisfied and fulfilled and perhaps pleasured (in any way that appeals to you the most) every time you're used in such a way. (And now that I think on it, given the often clear and well-indicated guidelines implied for how an inanimate object like you would be used, the effort to fulfill your purpose would fall to whoever would be using you rather than up to you yourself, wouldn't it?) (The same themes as well of needing to take care of yourself and are responsible for your own 'good condition' fall to the user, in a similar way- whether someone washes or cleans you regularly and keeps you in good condition, or if the user very worryingly doesn't care for you well at all and you end up degrading in quality in the process, is also entirely out of the hands of the object in question. Er, so to speak.)

These themes of having an inherent nature or simplicity to your very being- form following function, and all- can be a source of great comfort or sexual gratification (or both!) to whomever might consider themself an inanimate TF fan, as well as to whom they might let use them (or who uses them Regardless of their wishes, if that appeals to them). Think about it: a big winter coat's purpose is to keep whoever is wearing it warm and comfy in cold weather. A suit vest's purpose is to provide another layer over a dress shirt and to make the wearer look more fancy. A pair of socks' purpose is to cover the feet and keep them safe inside the shoes. A pair of underwear briefs' purpose is to hold in the dong so it doesn't go as hogwild as it could in a pair of pants otherwise.

There's a lot of range for this, as there is for most other themes and genres in TF, meaning there's a lot of ways someone can experience or enjoy it. Having it be a close and intimate personal things between friends or loved ones through keeping them warm as a hoodie or shielding them from the sun as a hat, or being punished and forced to be the watering can of some witch or wizard you befouled for a while, or getting snapped up unintentionally by your suspicious roommate who can't help themself and getting royally fucked from his irresponsible lack of cleaning habits, and so on.

One way or another, it just comes down to the given TF fan's preferences and what they're looking to experience, what themes and flavors to it that make the TF just that much more tasty. Just as it is about with any other part of TF!

TF Advent Calendar - Inanimate (Stick TF)

for https://twitter.com/TransformARTive Will link their's when its up 

Posted using PostyBirb

CW: Sexualization of (fictional) minors discussion

Mod: Gonna put these in batch posts from now on because I think Anons have important things to say on this topic, but I also want people to be able to avoid this topic easily for obvious reasons 💜

1. if you think dolls matter in the discussion of abuse against children i really really hope you get well soon, because if anyone is out of touch with reality and desensitized to the suffering of real human people, it's you. fiction isn't real. nothing, nothing, nothing that happens in fiction, or with inanimate objects for that matter, is worth talking about in a discussion as serious and heavy as the abuse of children. for god's sake, stop equating your personal icky-wicky with real-world crime.

~Anonymous

2. Since when the hell is the BJD hobby minor-adjacent? The hobby featuring $1000 dolls with articulated penises is minor-adjacent??? Listen I /agree/ with your base point but don't try to make that point with flat-out bullshit. If BJDs are minor-adjacent just by being ?? dolls?? then that would also mean the same thing for love dolls, too -- because they're all dolls, right? Get out of here. Just because there are dolls for kids doesn't mean the dolls for adults are meant for minors, too, come on.

~Anonymous

Mod: putting this here since I think it was the AP doll that spawned this discussion originally

3. I agree with you anon, but unfortunately you're missing the key conceit in the posts of people complaining about AP dolls. It isn't about learning to live with things which fall outside of our preferences for them -- it's about Having the Correct Opinions so that they can feel superior to, and slam those with whom they disagree. Apply that to basically any online discourse and that's what it boils down to. No one wants nuance, they want a side they can pick: then to watch the other side burn.

~Anonymous

4. TW CSA mention sorry this isn't about dolls but it's really important!! Please DO report things you think are causing harm to minors to the police/authorities as much as possible. I'm begging you, if you truly believe children are being harmed, why are you making drama about it on the internet when you could be actually making an irl difference? And if you don't actually believe minors are being abused by something, it's OK to say you think it's gross and move on if you feel that way! That's fine, not everyone likes everything! But if you think it's hurting people why tf are you not doing something to help and just laughing at the idea that you would ever take it seriously? All this talk about being desensitized and yet people like you are being like "OK pedo" online but not reporting someone you believe is actually! hurting! children! As a CSA survivor it's scary as fuck!

~Anonymous

Patreon Update (February ‘23)

Hello there everyone, hope everyone is doing well! It’s been a bit dead over here on Tumblr (which I apologize for) but I’m planning on changing that starting next week with a new story. Without going into too much detail, I’ll just quickly explain that I’ve been dealing with a bout of depression (which was only amplified by getting food poisoning recently as well). Luckily, I feel like I’m in a better headspace and I’m finally recovering from the food poisoning! 

Anyways, here’s a quick little summary of the stuff I’ve released over on my Patreon over the past month. If any of the following stories intrigue you, please feel free to click on the title so you can sign up for the appropriate tier to read it! I’d love to have you join my Patreon and my Discord community, where you can view exclusive photo captions.

The Scent of Studliness

After secretly witnessing his jock tormentor / secret crush Alex get turned into a pair of workout clothes by a bullied janitor, gym novice Martin investigates the new clothing and finds his inner kinks emerging as he realizes that they are soaked in the jock's intense sweat. Upon pressing his nose into the clothing and inhaling Alex's potent musk, Martin's body soon finds itself transforming to become the perfect replica of the jock.

Tags: Inanimate, Clothing-Based TF, Mental Change, Muscle Growth, Racial Change, Shapeshift

The Leading Man

Upon finding out that his friend and former Supernatural co-star Jensen Ackles would be attending the same brand new fan convention as him called Soul-Conventions, jealous actor Misha Collins decides to use one of the magical items included in his gift basket to finally get the chance to be the hunky leading man...

Tags: Body Swap, Actors, Revenge

Devolving The Scientist

After finally achieving success with their military-funded weapon that is meant to devolve opposing armies into an early stage of evolution, frail and nerdy Dexter is desperate to get the solo credit on the weapon while also getting the upper hand against his hunky co-worker Richard. Deciding to jump straight into human trials, the sly and jealous genius decides to get his revenge on the hunky Richard and send him down a few rings on the evolution timeline...

Tags: Animal, Mental Changes, Revenge

S-C Fitness: The Trial Run (Part One)

After returning from holiday break to find that his small hometown gym has been suddenly purchased and revamped to become a brand new S-C Fitness location, pudgy gym novice Tom gets an invitation from the new owner for a brand new program he's trying to implement. Upon finding out that not only will he receive a free gym membership for participating, but he'll also get the opportunity to do a workout with his gym crush Dylan, the man instantly agrees. Unfortunately for the duo though, they'll end up finishing their session in different bodies...

Tags: Shapeshift, S-C Fitness

The Body Shop

In hopes of alleviating some stress, Peter opts to take a walk through his college town. Near the end of his stroll, the man stumbles upon a new shop called The Body Shop. Upon entering, he's greeted to a vast array of artificial body parts that are able to be worn to create a bodysuit of a customer's dream body piece-by-piece. As soon as he meets the incredibly attractive owner of the shop, Peter finds his world turned upside down as he's able to be easily convinced to try out pieces that he never would have previously considered...

Author's Note: This series will become increasingly smutty with each chapter in the trilogy. It's not something I've dabbled much into, so I thought it was a worthy warning to preface this story. So if intense and explicit foreplay isn't your thing, this trilogy may not be for you!

Tags: The Body Shop, Slow Transformation, Gender Swap