Captions4GirlyGurls

21+ only 🩷 making requests for custom caps means that you're ok for them to be posted on here.

[makehimyourgirlfriend]

[sissylucy20]

[alwayscute]

[captions4girlygurls]

Don't worry sweetie

🤭

you might even see a whole new side to your friends 😜

[alwayscute]

[the-zoligomyst]

A Pink n Prissy Pact Part 4

The buttplug was cold. Brent regretted not warming it up as soon as it popped in between his cheeks. But warm it how? He wasn't going to put it in his mouth... Besides the temperature was the least of the indignity the device offered. He was so full he felt like he might burst open from the inside. It was too late now anyway and if he didn't hurry, it was going to be buzzing around inside him, driving him giddy with pain, pleasure and humiliation. The corset was another poor choice. The Pink n Prissy Collective had sent him home with a suitcase of degrading costumes but choosing the one that actively squeezed his middle around the throbbing toy was a mistake. It pressed his caged cock tight to him too, and unlike the plug he hadn't been allowed to remove it for temporary relief so his once manhood felt like it was being relentlessly crushed.

He had to hurry. The girls would be expecting him and waiting with thumbs over phone screens ready to punish him if he was late. He had chosen the glittering corset and bikini bottoms with the fur lining because it was all one piece but pulling on the gloves and stockings and then attaching them to the garter belt had taken time – not to mention bending over to strap on the towering platform heels had been excruciating as his ass hugged its invader ever more tightly. Every moment made him want to crawl up inside himself and never come out, and today was just the first day of his new life. At last, he was satisfied that his appearance was appropriately pathetic that the Pink n Prissy Collective wouldn't punish him by activating his devices remotely using Emi's app, and he lined up his phone with the giant wall mirror in the living room.

“Once a boy...” his voice quivered as the recording started, “...now a Miss.” He couldn't believe he was actually doing this. “Once of gloom...but now of bliss.” He wanted to stop but knew he had no choice. “Once free will...but now a sissy. Now and forever...Pink n Prissy.” He swallowed hard and pressed send.

“It's here! It's here!” Cassie hollered holding her phone aloft. “Brent's first remote pledge is here!” She held her screen in front of her and the rest of the girls joined her in the kitchen of the Pink n Prissy house to watch the recording.

“No fair!” Charlotte exclaimed. “He's at home. Give him a zap and tell him to do the next one in public. Tell him to go to the mall. I want onlookers!”

“Hey, Terri. Can I ask you something?” Grace asked timidly pulling the Collective's tech geek aside as the rest of the girls continued to yell demands to further Brent's humiliation. “When you looked up Emi that time on your tablet. You know the community on OnlyFemmes... There were so many accounts there...”

“There were!” It was Josie, the group's leader who answered. “There are many of us out there who share our particular interest. Some of them go way further than we do... Scarily so... But, you know, each of us has our own method...our own little trick for getting boys like Brent into panties. And, guess what Grace? So will you!” Grace looked up to see that the rest of the Pink n Prissy Collective were now crowded around her. “We promise on all things pink and prissy that you will get your mojo back. We will help you find your little trick! If it's the last thing we do...”

[debbiepantyhose-deactivated2026]

So will you want to wear her Black Tights or Black Pantyhose!

I am going with the sheer control top pantyhose to fully embrace my day being dressed up as a woman!

[the-zoligomyst]

Content and Contentment

Matty glared at his tablet screen with disgust. One of the OnlyFemmes chicks he subscribed to was a guy!? What the hell?! Is was called OnlyFEMMES for a reason?! Not only that, she…he had put some kind of bounty up asking for people to sissify him. Matty took one last look at the most recent post and wanted to throw up. Sissify…that?! Why not hire someone to paint the sun yellow too…

He quickly unsubscribed and thought about all the times he had jerked off to that profile as bile curdled in his stomach. He needed to act fast to top up his masculinity and now he had an empty spot in his roster of digital side-chicks.

Quickly, he pulled up the chart of most popular creators and pulled up the highest ranking one he wasn’t already following. A profile for a girl simply known as “Emi” filled the screen and the image of an elegant latex clad beauty with severe bangs splashed across the top. All other pictures on the profile were greyed out until you subscribed so Matty was unable to tell precisely what kind of content she produced, but already he was enthralled by her swanlike grace and powerful slender figure. He pressed subscribe and was presented with two options - $8 “Be a voyeur”, $10 “Emi will make you Content”. It was a no-brainer, he thought selecting the second option. As his membership status changed to Pending, he turned his tablet off wondering just how content the content Emi made him would make him.

Matty didn’t have to wait long to find out. He awoke in the early hours of the following morning to find himself completely naked and his bedsheets pulled back. A latex gloved hand fondled his exposed cock, squeezing gently to bring him around. “What the f…” he groaned groggily, his eyes following the rubber arm gleaming in the moonlight up to a sternly framed yet gorgeous face. “You…” he was cut off as the hand suddenly tightened its grip turning his words into a yelp. Its partner appeared from the darkness and snapped something metal around Matty’s genitals.

Things moved quickly after that. Matty immediately recognised the intruder as the woman he had admired from his tablet screen the previous day and his body tried to respond in kind, yet his budding erection was thwarted by the confines of its cage. Emi had set up a camera tripod and opened a small black trunk. His heart hammered as he realised what “Emi will make you content” had really meant. When he opened his mouth to protest, Emi calmly pulled out a small keyfob and pressed it. White hot electricity shot out of the device between his legs, instantly silencing him.

Matty was powerless as Emi removed items from the trunk and forced him to put them on. Anything less than complete obedience was countered with pain. First came a pair of white satin panties that hugged his stinging testicles like clouds. Next came a French Maid’s outfit that fit him like a glove and an extra high pair of stiletto heels. Emi took her time carefully applying makeup and dressing his hair up with a ribbon, sparking him every time he moved or caused her to make a mistake.

When her work was finally complete, Emi looked around the room. Appearing satisfied, she removed the camera from its tripod and used a suction mount to attach it to the ceiling in the corner of the room. She turned, her trunk held under one latex clad arm, blew Matty a kiss and left.

Exhausted from all the zapping of his tortured genitals, Matty scooted on his backside to rest against the sofa and look up at the camera. He had a nasty feeling what those greyed out images on Emi’s OnlyFemmes page would show paying subscribers. He also wondered if the paying ‘voyeurs’ had any kind of access to the device cradling his crotch. Nausea washed though him as he remembered he had paid for a six-month subscription. Six months of this?! He kicked off the heels in frustration and white heat enveloped his genitals.

[alwayscute]

[the-zoligomyst]

Beyond Wednesday

“Listen kid,” the girl behind the costume shop counter yawned with exasperation. “The way it works,” she gestured to the pod in the corner that looked like an enormous photo-booth, “is you get what you get. Mrs. Gump had it right.” She watched the confused expression form on Toby's face and rolled her eyes. “Look, they don't even sell these over here yet. They don't even make them in English. My uncle got this one shipped over from Bulgaria. Do you speak Bulgarian? Cause I sure as shit don't... I only know enough to select the gender and the date you want the costume to last until and it gives you a random Halloween costume.”

“A random Halloween costume?” Toby repeated. “For 200 bucks? The hell?! And what's with the expiry date? Surely you just take it off?”

“Hey,” the girl rolled her eyes again, “if you want to be cheap, there's always the discount rack.” She nodded to a rail of sad looking outfits of dated movie characters. The costume pod though, isn't just a costume. It is a cutting edge bodysuit autodresser designed to be 100% realistic and immersive. It isn't exactly fastened with velcro...”

“Right...” Toby groaned. No way could he afford a 200 dollar costume – not even for Jade's party. But wait, he watched as the girl was called into the storeroom to take a call and he was suddenly alone in the shop with the costume pod. Without hesitation, he ran over to the control panel and saw that it was entirely in Cyrillic. Hurriedly, he pressed the first option on the screen and was presented with what looked like a date picker. This must be the expiry date the girl mentioned. He only needed it long enough to impress Jade so he chose 11-1. Even if it came off at midnight, Jade would already have seen him and he could pop out of the bodysuit like an real-life jack-in-a-box. He made the selection and the pod opened and then closed around him. Inside was pitch black.

Needless to say, Toby didn't attend Jade's party. The hyper-realistic sexualised Wednesday Addams bodysuit put a stop to that. As he hid in his home and waited for midnight, he panicked about what he would say to the shop girl and her uncle. Would they get a good enough laugh out of him spending an evening with jiggling breasts, a bubble butt and silk stockings to let him off paying the 200...or worse? Finally, midnight came and...nothing happened. Toby stood frozen at the foot of his staircase. There was a knock at the door.

“Did you forget that thing was Bulgarian?” the girl on his doorstep wore an expression that was part fury and part amusement. “They use a different date format, idiot! You locked yourself into that costume until January 11th. My uncle is going to kill me!” Her snarl twisted into a cruel smile. “But, you know, the company that makes these things is some kind of fetish-wear manufacturer. Their bodysuits all have remote aphrodisiac triggers and mobility overrides. Obviously, we keep these functions turned off for our customers...but you're not a customer...are you? Let's just say I am going to make sure you enjoy the next three months...”

[the-zoligomyst]

Sissy's Lot

Michael strutted onto the stage in the town hall with an unusual air of confidence for the occasion. The town's traditional annual Halloween costume auction was typically a bit of a crap-shoot for its volunteers, particularly the male ones. Every year, a selection of locals would sell their dignity to the highest bidder, who would give their bid to a worthy charity in exchange for choosing that year's Halloween costume for their lot. Finding volunteers had become increasingly tough after a few particularly brutal selections in recent years so anyone willing to put their neck, and the rest of their body, on the line would earn social currency within the community.

Social currency Michael badly needed after his recent divorce from local good-girl Sara – hence his agreement to volunteer for this year's auction. However, Michael had a plan. Michael had Roger, who had agreed to outbid any humiliating costume with something much more manly.

The auction started slowly – a buck to be Dracula, a couple to be Frankenstein. When a bid of eight nominated a cheerleading outfit, Michael nodded to his friend and Roger instantly bid ten dollars for him to be a biker. Michael rolled his eyes. Couldn't he have gone with something a bit less Village People...? The bids came in thick and fast after that – twenty to be a ballerina, thirty to be a belly dancer, fifty to be a princess. Sara and her friends had walked in directly from the bar next door and were drunkenly competing with each other to craft the most humiliating costume. Michael glanced to Roger in panic, but his friend had averted his eyes in despair – the going now far too rich for the small roll of bills in his pocket. The total spiralled upwards until finally Michael's fate was sealed with a winning bid of $200 from Sara's best friend, Steph, to spend Halloween dressed as a French Maid.

Needless to say, Michael didn't go trick or treating. When he arrived at Steph's house for his transformation, Sara and the rest of their friend group were already there. They took great pleasure dolling him up in a tiny maid's outfit and elbow length gloves. They waxed his body and painted his face with seemingly endless layers of makeup before putting a wig on his head that smelled suspiciously of glue. The rest of the evening became a shameless celebration in honor of Sara's divorce from him. He was made to crawl around on his hands and knees serving the women drinks and every so often Steph would draw everyone's attention and have an auction of her own. The friends would bid on giving him a spanking, having their toes sucked and even one particularly lucrative lot that resulted in him leaving a lipstick mark on Sara's bare ass cheek. The longer the party went, the drunker the women got and soon he was also answering the door to trick or treaters.

At some point around midnight, Sara gave him a long drunken look and smirked. “I never had this much fun with you when we were together. Fortunately, marriage can end, but blackmail evidence...now that's forever!”

[alwayscute]

[alwayscute]

[the-zoligomyst]

Oblivious

Jack leapt from his desk the second he was presented with the opportunity to get a closer look at the object of his fascination. The memo he had been holding remained clutched in his hands as he sidled up alongside Felix and began to walk with him through the office. From a distance he had been fascinated, but up close he was spellbound at the transformation of his co-worker. Once rugged and unshaven, Felix now had glossy shoulder-length brown hair and a carefully made-up face that subtly showcased his newly found femininity.

“Hey, Felix. How's it going?” Jack could barely contain his excitement. Felix looked back at him with bewilderment and clutched his hands defensively over a fitted cardigan that sat neatly over a grey skirt. He really has no idea, Jack marvelled to himself as Felix expertly tucked a stray hair behind a freshly pierced ear.

Just three weeks ago, their office had been the latest workplace to be attacked with a viral phishing campaign. The email claiming to contain details of their new parking assignments instead held malware that opened a video on the recipients screen. According to news reports, the video was loaded with powerful subliminal hypnotic suggestion that rendered the watcher helplessly addicted to a women's fashion brand. Known as the Vektor virus after the brand in question, it now held Felix in its manicured talons.

“Hey…Jack,” Felix shifted his leather handbag further up his shoulder and stared back quizzically. “Things are…normal. I am just filing this report.” He gestured to the folder he was holding. “Everything okay…” he looked Jack up and down with an odd expression on his cosmetic laden face, “…with you?”

“Oh, I'm good,” Jack smirked, “very good.” Seeing Felix like this was almost unbearable. He seemed completely clueless that his once unkempt masculine image had been re-crafted into feminine office chic. For all intents and purposes, he was still Felix – he acted like Felix, spoke like Felix, even farted like Felix – except he now had the appearance of a sweet tidily dressed young woman.

Jack felt himself smile a little too wide and cursed silently. He would probably need to touch up his lipstick now. He smoothed his free hand down his flowing skirt and excused himself politely. Watching Felix continue along the corridor in his kitten feels, he felt a mix of relief and pity. Relief, because he had only watched a few seconds of that video before closing the browser. In that moment he could think of nothing worth than being like Felix – completely oblivious.

[alwayscute]

[the-zoligomyst]

Don't Mess With Witches!!

I don’t know who needs to hear this! But…I beg you, don’t fuck with witches?! Not even a little. Not even a tiny little bit. Let me cut to the chase! My name is Barry. Do I look like a Barry to you? Do these big ‘ole titties look like Barry’s titties? Because a month ago I looked like a Barry. A month ago I looked like regular old broke ass Barry trying to find somewhere cheap to live so I could find a job and spend the rest of my life paying off the tuition I racked up to get the job in the first place. Except, now I am racked up with these…

You know how I got these? Desperation! See, to get the place to live to get the job to get the lifetime of indentured servitude, I need some liquidity – more debt. I know right… Except, I don’t have a job yet, so no-one is going to lend me any money for a deposit. That is, until my boy Kyle told me about a friend of a friend who knew this old lady who lends money. Oh, by the way, fuck you, Kyle!!

So, anyway, I went to see the lady – sweet old thing, and yes, she immediately agreed to lend me the green no questions asked. It was too good to be true, so I asked what was the catch and she pulled out this little figurine made of soft clay. I remember being a bit creeped out because it looked a little like me and was even dressed a bit like me, but the euphoria took over and besides I would pay her back in two weeks when I got my first paycheck.

Well, unfortunately for me, I fluffed interview after interview and turned up at the sweet little old lady’s door empty handed two weeks later, she just smiled warmly and placed the me-like figure on her coffee table. Producing a new piece of clay, she tore it in two and rolled two perfect little balls and pushed them up under the hoodie the figure was wearing – that happened to perfectly match the top I had pulled on that morning.

I stood there with my mouth wide open as two fleshy mounds grew on my chest in real time – two large bouncing and very real female breasts. I stayed away from her house after that – probably ill-advised but have any of my actions been even remotely wise? Every day that followed, every day that I didn’t pay my debt, I woke up with something new – long silky hair, soft feminine features, a curvy womanly body – no doubt that lady was sculpting that creepy miniature version of me. Today, it seems like she must have borrowed from the wardrobe of Cabaret Barbie because suddenly I am dressed like a stripper.

My options are changing and I worry what my job choices are now if I am to actually pull together this money to pay her back. I ordered this book online, ‘Voodoo for Dummies’ (see, I am even mentioned in the title) to try to find a way to reverse the process, but I am an amateur going up against a pro. All it has done is open my eyes to the arsenal of possibilities that sweet old bitch could still resort to – womanly thoughts, womanly desires, womanly pleasures… I already have the womanly body so is that what’s next? I refuse to even read the chapter on possession… Witches, man, I am telling you…stay the fuck away…!

[the-zoligomyst]

The Intervention

We’ve all got one of those friends – the kind that need saving. I don’t just mean once either – it’s again and again, and each time, despite how you think you have finally got through, you know they'll be needing another rescue sometime soon. Mine was Phillippa, and even as I sat in the small box room on the end of her bed waxing lyrical about how she would get past this and find something better, I didn’t quite believe my own words. Part of me knew this would be just the latest episode in a long line of fuck ups.

This time she had fallen in with a local gang. I suspected drugs were involved but I knew she was turning tricks for them, and even with her history, this shit seemed a little deeper than usual. She looked genuinely scared that I was here and kept glancing nervously to the large chest at the end of the bed – the only other furniture in the grotty one room apartment. Finally, I gave up and asked what was inside.

“It’s what they make me wear. For the clients…” She stammered. “It’s not clothing.” She explained seeing my confusion, “it’s like a kind of bodysuit. I put it on and I become their whore. It makes me feel things. It makes me want to do things. It’s how they make sure I service the clients properly.” Phillippa’s face glowed red with humiliation and a tear rolled down one cheek.

Suddenly, the intercom beeped and I saw panic enter Phillippa’s eyes. “It’s them!” She hissed. “You need to hide!” I surveyed the room around me – bare except for the bed and the chest. My friend threw open the lid and I saw what looked like the body of a young women wearing a night gown filling the inside space. “You need to put it on!” She shrieked. “If they find you in here, they will kill us both!” No time for a second thought, I stripped off my clothes and Phillippa stuffed them into a pillowcase. She then helped me into the bodysuit and folded me into the chest – finally closing the lid and consigning me to darkness.

Not seconds later, angry male voices filled the room outside my box – a muffled scream, more shouting, a crash of something hitting the wall, more shouting, and then finally the slam of a door. When I was sure the coast was clear, I pushed open the top of the test.

As I had pulled on the bodysuit, I had been operating on pure adrenaline. I hadn’t had time to look at it, but now in the empty room, I ran slender feminine hands over skin that felt as real as my own.. I caught sight of myself in the mirrored ceiling and a beautiful young woman in a negligee gazed back. No hint of my male self could be seen, and more importantly, no hint of a way to remove the suit.

Realising that if I wanted to remove it, I needed to find my friend, I stumbled out of the apartment and into the night. It was a sketchy neighbourhood and I saw men leering at me from street corners as cars whizzed past. I had walked about half a mile when I started to feel strange. A heat smouldered in my abdomen before spreading into my groin with a tingling warmth. As I tried to focus, Phillippa’s words pounded in my head.” It makes me feel things. It makes me want to do things.”