Nina was a very beautiful and sucessful professional, at the age of 25, she had it all. She was 5'10" had the bluest of eyes, long blond hair, D cup breasts, and a 27 inch waist. One thing about her was she enjoyed self bondage but with two roommates, it was hard to persue her passion which was very frustrating. There were rare instances when both her roommates would be out of town in which she could indulge in some self play. ...
Woman to Robot TF A typical Friday night for a high school senior as pretty as me should probably consist of partying until I pass out or studying for my eventual leap to college education, but I am no normal girl. My name is Gwendolyn Taylor, a senior at my local high school. I was quote un quote “a sweet thang” with a plump rear and a decent rack to match the curves that were sported all over my body. This was only accentuated by my long red hair and the attire I was wearing. Currently I was wearing a white blouse that exposed a little bit of my midriff and tight blue jeans. It was a late night as I walked around the soon to be closing super center just doing some last second browsing. With my shoulder length red hair swishing behind me I walked past a few robots cleaning up the various displays. I stopped walking and watched as the fairly human looking machines went about their programming and made sure the entire section of the store was squeaky clean before one by one they began walking off towards the back of the store. This caught my attention and I immediately looked around for any sign that I could be seen doing what I was about to do. Ever since I was in middle school I had been fascinated with robotics and I would often fantasize about being a robot myself. As I came into my own I discovered it was a widespread fetish online and began researching it vigorously. I had even seen a few offers for a person to act like a robot for events and I had been contemplating signing up for one. This was a completely different opportunity. ...
Woman to Robot TF A typical Friday night for a high school senior as pretty as me should probably consist of partying until I pass out or studying for my eventual leap to college education, but I am no normal girl. My name is Gwendolyn Taylor, a senior at my local high school. I was quote un quote “a sweet thang” with a plump rear and a decent rack to match the curves that were sported all over my body. This was only accentuated by my long red hair and the attire I was wearing. Currently I was wearing a white blouse that exposed a little bit of my midriff and tight blue jeans. It was a late night as I walked around the soon to be closing super center just doing some last second browsing. With my shoulder length red hair swishing behind me I walked past a few robots cleaning up the various displays. I stopped walking and watched as the fairly human looking machines went about their programming and made sure the entire section of the store was squeaky clean before one by one they began walking off towards the back of the store. This caught my attention and I immediately looked around for any sign that I could be seen doing what I was about to do. Ever since I was in middle school I had been fascinated with robotics and I would often fantasize about being a robot myself. As I came into my own I discovered it was a widespread fetish online and began researching it vigorously. I had even seen a few offers for a person to act like a robot for events and I had been contemplating signing up for one. This was a completely different opportunity. ...
My name is Peter. I have got a confession to make. I am the world greatest lover. I am also a satyr. And no, I am not gay. I was born in New York. Worked for the city. I was on a clean-up crew after the towers fell and found this old brass bottle. It was twisted up good but some how it had not been squashed flat like everything else I had seen. It was not bigger than my hand so I stuffed it in my pocket with no one the wiser. ...
In a little shop down an alley off a side street on the edge of Chinatown, Sandy fondled the red, silk dress. There was nothing special about it at first glance - your basic knee-length Chinese dress with a bit of yellow piping for trim. But the sensation of it on her skin had a magical effect. She had to fight the urge to strip and give herself to the kiss of silk on her naked body. She took the dress over to the counter, set it down. It would be the perfect thing - for later. ...
Janice walked up and down the aisles of the flea market looking for the odd knick knack she could use to decorate her home. A collector of items that ranged from old Barbie dolls to miniature houses patterned after the mansions of 16th and 17th century European mansions, she often frequented places like this as well as the local auction houses with an eye for something that sparked her interest. ...
Author’s note: I would just like to say a couple things: PLEASE write me if you like my stories… it’s #1 the drive behind my writing. This story is winded to start, but If you like accidental (magical) dollification you might like this story, if you do like it refer to Author’s note #1! There will not be a sequel. As a rule I don’ normally post my stories until they are finished, even if they are multi part. One Wrong Wish: ...
(story continues from Still Life 3 - Mistaken Identities) Part Four - Les Yeux Sans Visage (The Eyes Without Face) I rolled out of bed, shaking my hair out of my face. Darrin leaned over and propped himself up on his elbow. “Going already?” “It’s ten ’till eleven,” I said. I turned and smiled. “You know I turn into a pumpkin at eleven PM.” As I walked across the large bedroom to the master bath I heard Darrin say, “Still, isn’t there anything I could do to get you to stay a little long?” ...
Silence grew as the echoes of my scream died down; even the bloody scream had been feminine! I stood staring at the bathroom mirror, eyes wide, mout h hanging open. A stark naked drop-dead young blonde woman stared back at me. She was fucking incredible, she was big breasted, she was flat tummied, she was perfectly shaped. . .and she was me . . . I glanced down, not really knowing if I expected to see anything different. Perhaps it was a hallucination, and I’d see my usual naked male self, including slightly overweight belly. But I couldn’t see my belly, my tits were in the way. Oh my God. . . my TITS were in the way?! ...
This is how it happened. Candi and I were relaxing around the house one night, not doing a lot, just relaxing with a couple of glasses of wine and watching TV. She’d been reading some trashy law novel, but after a couple of hours she was two full glasses into a bottle and she’d lost interest. I shouldn’t say she’d lost interest: it was more like she couldn’t follow the plot. Candi had a tendency to get blasted and then get spacey and bubbleheaded. I’ve seen her do some really dumb things when she was half in the bag, and I personally felt she probably would have been happy as some blond bimbo who didn’t have a care in the world. ...
(story continues from Still Life)_ Part Two - Changing Parts I was two days in a window, and then three months in a box. It’s amazing how you outlook on life changes when you’re just a collection of parts in a cardboard container. It’d started a few months before with my girlfriend, Candi. She’d found some magic coin, or so she told me, and made a wish so that she could turn me into a mannequin whenever she wanted. I thought it was crap, but I was wrong; the magic worked. ...
(story continues from Still Life 2 - Changing Parts)_ Part Three - Mistaken Identities I fell to my knees, nearly tumbling off the podium. It was late at night: all the shoppers were gone. I was thankful I didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing or hearing me, ‘cause the moan that slipped out echoed throughout the store. I immediately sighed after I was finished moaning. My hope that only a couple of days would go by since Ronnie and I were “frozen” had turned into twelve days of display. I was sure Ronnie was still plastic, since she would have come looking for me had someone inadvertently changed her back to human. I was surprised to see that someone would say “Nora, real,” before they’d say “Rebecca, real.” Or some combination of people speaking thereof. ...