You’ve picked up a magazine full of possibility. Where form is merely a suggestion. Flesh is fickle. And powers beyond those of this world r
FOURTH WISH Magazine is now out! 140+ pages of transformation comics, short stories, and even an article! A true magazine mix of fantastic new and classic material from multiple creators! Available now!
Since we keep getting "live action" CGI remakes of already perfectly adequate animated movies, and because people need to understand that animation is a medium and not a genre, I have prepared this primer about the importance of Visual Language for Conveying Information.
Can you tell what the personalities of these two mice are?
Can you tell now?
Which of these two tigers feels safer to be around?
Which of these three dogs is the funniest one?
If you can answer these questions, then you already have experience with the idea of visual language and stylistic choices being used to impart narrative meaning. If you can understand why these choices were made to impart meaning, then you can understand why animation is a medium for telling stories that has its own inherent value, and is not merely a "placeholder" for the eventual implementation of photorealistic presentation (aka "Live Action" CGI). Animation does not need to be "corrected" or "legitimized" by remaking it into the most representational simulation of observable reality.
New transformation bonus comic unlocked of we reach goal, GODS OF MIAMI: WRAPPED UP! If you wanted more modern-set Greek Myth TFs than KAOS offered (a show we love!), then you should check out GODS OF MIAMI! https://www.patreon.com/dsredux
Had a great time at SizeCon this weekend, especially speaking on the Inflation Panel with all of these lovely folks! Moose Tracks, Producer, Dan Standing, Coco Wren, Hypester were all lovely panel-mates!
Please check out and share about an illustrated transformation story I have on IndieGoGo! Breast expansion, inanimate, and strange changes are all part of a sexy Miami party attended by Aphrodite! Illustrations by Captain Shima, who does my A CASE OF TRANSFORMATION comic!
The Greek Gods have retired to Miami. Will the party scene survive Aphrodite's whims and nymphs? | Check out 'GODS OF MIAMI: Party Hard - Il
Serial stories to read one short episode at a time
My Kindle Vella works have gotten out of control! Read the first three chapters of over 15 erotic transformation stories for free and then hop over to my Patreon to let me know which one I should focus on!
And no, I don't write three chapters of SFW prose and hide all the sexy stuff behind Vella's pay wall, most of the erotic fun starts in chapters 1 or 2!
Hey all, Rolfe Kanefsky is considering doing a live-action reboot of MOOD BOOBS. I've helped him create a survey to gauge interest in crowd funding for the potential project. Any feedback is welcomed! PLEASE SHARE! You can access the survey here;
September had multiple comic pages and stories updated! Plus, we're on page three of the gameshow-inspired A CASE OF TRANSFORMATION comic. Join us at the start so you know what's going on when we get to the shrinking part! Oh, and also MOOD BOOBS page 2!!!!!
Become a patron of Dan Standing today: Get access to exclusive content and experiences on the world’s largest membership platform for artist
Rhyssa sighed, waiting for her current mistress to focus and make up her mind. Well, it wasn't a sigh so much as a release of pent up horny steam, an attempt to ignore the fire burning between her hips. The genie had her arms crossed under her generous bust, each soft expanse of magical breast flesh resting gently upon her limbs. The slightly bulged skin was a light green - far from the beautiful brown Rhyssa had as a human. At least she'd kept the dark curly hair that drifted around her face. Her evergreen nipples were rock hard, barely obscured by the slightly scratchy gossamer that hung over them.
"Uhhh...yeah...just...hold on...almost there..." the skinny blonde writhing on the hotel bed hissed. The woman was still wearing the black heels strapped to her feet, pantyhose, and lacy black thong - the latter two well soaked in her feminine juices. Her small hands glistened in mineral oil and hefted breasts nearly twice the size of her head, pawing at the wobbling expanse of skin and pinching nipples as thick as the woman's thumbs.
Breasts and nipples the woman hadn't had two days ago.
That day the bottle that Rhyssa was kept in had been disguised as a bottle of liquid paper. Whenever the genie's container manifested in a new location it took on an appearance to blend in. Rhyssa's mistresses were supposed to find her by happenstance, not be able to search out and find some bejeweled djinn dwelling.
Thankfully the interior of the bottle did not change to match, because Rhyssa would have spent weeks stuffed within sticky white-out. Who used liquid paper anymore? So the genie was nearly as surprised that someone had opened the bottle as was the woman who had found a real genie!
The usual disbelief and incredulous suspicion followed Rhyssa's initial summoning. She always found it strange that so many people could doubt the validity of the genie they just saw pour out of the bottle. Rhyssa's escape was always themed to look like what she was in - but thankfully it always felt like she was escaping as thick fog that coalesced into this form that generally resembled how she'd looked when human. The green skin was certainly different, and she'd gained a few inches in her hourglasses curves. Of course the biggest change from being human flesh-and-blood was that Rhyssa hadn't had legs in...ages.
Instead, her slit rested within a small tuck of groin that was nearly swallowed up by her thighs converging together and twisting about as one long tail that traveled back to her bottle - transitioning from green skin to white goo this time as it slipped inside. Her pussy lips hadn't always been as fat and engorged as they were now, and the pinch of her thighs kept the squeezed together against her marble-sized clitty. This loss of legs and formation of tail was one of the two constant reminders of Rhyssa's genie restrictions.
The other being the brass bracers sealed around her lower arms, each a single irremovable piece of metal.
It wasn't unusual for Rhyssa's mistresses to ask for something ridiculous and undeniable for their first wish. Oftentimes this came before she could even sputter out the very specific rules the green genie had to abide by. But if it was a wish she could grant, Rhyssa could usually guess what it would be based on what her mistress looked like.
In this case it came as no surprise when the blonde glanced down at her own flat, braless chest beneath a white business blouse, looked to Rhyssa's generous green bust, and mockingly exclaimed, "If you're a genie then I wish my tits were larger than my head with big fat nipples!"
Rhyssa could not hold back the eye roll that came with the impulsive head nod when granting a wish. The usual gasping, curses, and shocked exclamations followed while also accompanied by the straining of stitches and popping of buttons. In short order the blonde was standing topless - cradling her new enormous balls of fat and their wobbling nips - in the office supply closet.
If Rhyssa was an hourglass, then this woman had just turned herself into a sledgehammer.
The genie had seen plenty of sledgehammers.
It was only now that the panicking woman suddenly decided she needed to know the rules for her three wishes.
The first was that Rhyssa could only grant wishes for women and about women. No men could posses her bottle, and no women could make wishes on men.
The second was that Rhyssa could only grant wishes of a sexual nature or that imparted physical pleasure - and she could do no harm. So no world peace, endless money, or fancy cars - although some crafty mistresses had found ways to get some of these.
This also meant Rhyssa couldn't break someone's free will to create mental anguish. She could free their mind if, say, someone wished to make someone else a pleasure pet and some anxieties or worldly concerns needed to be eliminated to achieve that - but the subject had to actually want that in some form, and Rhyssa could expand on that desire. But if someone just flat out wasn't interested in what was being wished on them it wouldn't take.
Lastly, Rhyssa could only grant one wish a day. So no amount of crafty thinking was going to manifest for the blonde a new shirt to go home with. More cussing sent Rhyssa back into the bottle before she could find out the blonde's plan - or her mistress' name.
Although it happened very quickly, the process of being sent back to her magical den felt long and delightful to Rhyssa. Slipping into the mouth of her bottle was like the oiled hands of a masseuse running up her entire form as it thinned and stretched and slipped inside. This was especially true when her fat pussy was pinched inside it, along with the squeezing of her tits. Once inside Rhyssa was nothing more than compact wriggling bliss; not quite an orgasm - more like edging right at the cusp of one.
It was maddening.
When formally dismissed into her bottle the genie had no concept of where she may pop out next. So for wish number two Rhyssa found herself in a small hotel bathroom. The shower was running, but no one was in it. The blonde was instead standing before her, topless again with her huge boobs wobbling upon her ribs, a shimmer of mineral oil on them. She was dressed only in heels, pantyhose, and lacy black thong. Rhyssa quickly determined the running shower was a ruse, and to mask their voices.
The blonde immediately went into an annoyed monologue about a coworker who'd helped her get out of the office the other day. They'd agreed to meet at a hotel the next night to try out the blonde's new tits, but she was dissatisfied that so far all he'd done was play with her boobs - and he didn't appear interested in pleasuring her in any other fashion. Right now he was reclined on the hotel bed beyond the closed bathroom door.
"My tits are sensitive enough, but I wish he'd just fuck me properly!" the blonde complained.
"I'm sorry, mistress, but I am unable to cast wishes upon men."
"Well then what good are you? Do you expect that I'd wish that orgasming from breastplay is all I'm interested in?"
Rhyssa nodded. Not in agreement, but because that counted as wish number two.
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Rhyssa sighed, waiting for her current mistress to focus and make up her mind. Well, it wasn't a sigh so much as a release of pent up horny steam, an attempt to ignore the fire burning between her hips. The genie had her arms crossed under her generous bust, each soft expanse of magical breast flesh resting gently upon her limbs. The slightly bulged skin was a light green - far from the beautiful brown Rhyssa had as a human. At least she'd kept the dark curly hair that drifted around her face. Her evergreen nipples were rock hard, barely obscured by the slightly scratchy gossamer that hung over them.
"Uhhh...yeah...just...hold on...almost there..." the skinny blonde writhing on the hotel bed hissed. The woman was still wearing the black heels strapped to her feet, pantyhose, and lacy black thong - the latter two well soaked in her feminine juices. Her small hands glistened in mineral oil and hefted breasts nearly twice the size of her head, pawing at the wobbling expanse of skin and pinching nipples as thick as the woman's thumbs.
Breasts and nipples the woman hadn't had two days ago.
That day the bottle that Rhyssa was kept in had been disguised as a bottle of liquid paper. Whenever the genie's container manifested in a new location it took on an appearance to blend in. Rhyssa's mistresses were supposed to find her by happenstance, not be able to search out and find some bejeweled djinn dwelling.
Thankfully the interior of the bottle did not change to match, because Rhyssa would have spent weeks stuffed within sticky white-out. Who used liquid paper anymore? So the genie was nearly as surprised that someone had opened the bottle as was the woman who had found a real genie!
The usual disbelief and incredulous suspicion followed Rhyssa's initial summoning. She always found it strange that so many people could doubt the validity of the genie they just saw pour out of the bottle. Rhyssa's escape was always themed to look like what she was in - but thankfully it always felt like she was escaping as thick fog that coalesced into this form that generally resembled how she'd looked when human. The green skin was certainly different, and she'd gained a few inches in her hourglasses curves. Of course the biggest change from being human flesh-and-blood was that Rhyssa hadn't had legs in...ages.
Instead, her slit rested within a small tuck of groin that was nearly swallowed up by her thighs converging together and twisting about as one long tail that traveled back to her bottle - transitioning from green skin to white goo this time as it slipped inside. Her pussy lips hadn't always been as fat and engorged as they were now, and the pinch of her thighs kept the squeezed together against her marble-sized clitty. This loss of legs and formation of tail was one of the two constant reminders of Rhyssa's genie restrictions.
The other being the brass bracers sealed around her lower arms, each a single irremovable piece of metal.
It wasn't unusual for Rhyssa's mistresses to ask for something ridiculous and undeniable for their first wish. Oftentimes this came before she could even sputter out the very specific rules the green genie had to abide by. But if it was a wish she could grant, Rhyssa could usually guess what it would be based on what her mistress looked like.
In this case it came as no surprise when the blonde glanced down at her own flat, braless chest beneath a white business blouse, looked to Rhyssa's generous green bust, and mockingly exclaimed, "If you're a genie then I wish my tits were larger than my head with big fat nipples!"
Rhyssa could not hold back the eye roll that came with the impulsive head nod when granting a wish. The usual gasping, curses, and shocked exclamations followed while also accompanied by the straining of stitches and popping of buttons. In short order the blonde was standing topless - cradling her new enormous balls of fat and their wobbling nips - in the office supply closet.
If Rhyssa was an hourglass, then this woman had just turned herself into a sledgehammer.
The genie had seen plenty of sledgehammers.
It was only now that the panicking woman suddenly decided she needed to know the rules for her three wishes.
The first was that Rhyssa could only grant wishes for women and about women. No men could posses her bottle, and no women could make wishes on men.
The second was that Rhyssa could only grant wishes of a sexual nature or that imparted physical pleasure - and she could do no harm. So no world peace, endless money, or fancy cars - although some crafty mistresses had found ways to get some of these.
This also meant Rhyssa couldn't break someone's free will to create mental anguish. She could free their mind if, say, someone wished to make someone else a pleasure pet and some anxieties or worldly concerns needed to be eliminated to achieve that - but the subject had to actually want that in some form, and Rhyssa could expand on that desire. But if someone just flat out wasn't interested in what was being wished on them it wouldn't take.
Lastly, Rhyssa could only grant one wish a day. So no amount of crafty thinking was going to manifest for the blonde a new shirt to go home with. More cussing sent Rhyssa back into the bottle before she could find out the blonde's plan - or her mistress' name.
Although it happened very quickly, the process of being sent back to her magical den felt long and delightful to Rhyssa. Slipping into the mouth of her bottle was like the oiled hands of a masseuse running up her entire form as it thinned and stretched and slipped inside. This was especially true when her fat pussy was pinched inside it, along with the squeezing of her tits. Once inside Rhyssa was nothing more than compact wriggling bliss; not quite an orgasm - more like edging right at the cusp of one.
It was maddening.
When formally dismissed into her bottle the genie had no concept of where she may pop out next. So for wish number two Rhyssa found herself in a small hotel bathroom. The shower was running, but no one was in it. The blonde was instead standing before her, topless again with her huge boobs wobbling upon her ribs, a shimmer of mineral oil on them. She was dressed only in heels, pantyhose, and lacy black thong. Rhyssa quickly determined the running shower was a ruse, and to mask their voices.
The blonde immediately went into an annoyed monologue about a coworker who'd helped her get out of the office the other day. They'd agreed to meet at a hotel the next night to try out the blonde's new tits, but she was dissatisfied that so far all he'd done was play with her boobs - and he didn't appear interested in pleasuring her in any other fashion. Right now he was reclined on the hotel bed beyond the closed bathroom door.
"My tits are sensitive enough, but I wish he'd just fuck me properly!" the blonde complained.
"I'm sorry, mistress, but I am unable to cast wishes upon men."
"Well then what good are you? Do you expect that I'd wish that orgasming from breastplay is all I'm interested in?"
Rhyssa nodded. Not in agreement, but because that counted as wish number two.
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