Hehe Growlithe that evolves into Arcanine in the middle of sex 👉👈
You start with this warm, eager little puppy that's so happy to please and follow directions. Licking your hole and excitedly nipping at your fingers when you help him push his cock inside. I mean, you trained him so well!
Then he's absolutely pounding into you with some burst of energy he doesn't usually have. He's growling and barking and drooling on your chest, scrabbly little paws digging for purchase on thighs as he tries to jam himself into you.
You can feel the knot starting to swell, to feel his hips speed up as he jams himself into your tight warmth. He's filled with the determination to mate his favorite bitch, to make you a proper knot slut just for him.
Your entire body is hot, sweat pouring down your body and making his fur stick to your skin. The heat that rolls off of the pup's body is phenomenal, almost dizzying as it surrounds you in a blanket.
But instead of staying comfortable, the heat keeps rising. The rougher your Growlithe gets, the longer he pounds into you, it makes it feel like something's burning deep inside. Magic swirls around you both as he nears the end of his first round, burying his knot deep inside you with a final thrust.
The pop of his knot makes you scream, it was so much bigger than you'd taken before. You can feel as the rest of him starts to grow and shift as well, cock lengthening inside you and forcing burning hot cum even deeper into your hole. A small form that was draped over your back was starting to warp, to grow and stretch as you shake and shudder through the feeling of being filled.
He's not even done coming by the time he's fully evolved, hulking form of fur and muscle looming over where you were rightfully attached to his knot. He doesn't even try to move, just lays down on top of you and starts licking and biting the back of your neck. Occasionally moves to stick his maw in your mouth, so you can have a big hot tongue bullying it's way down your throat. All you can do is lay there and shudder and cry. But don't worry!! You'll get used to being a big fat knot slut for your Arcanine. He loves you juuuuust as much as you love him, I promise <3
-Em/🫶
Hhhhhhgghh
Honestly dripping for this Em. That feeling of transformation, that the drive to make you his bitch is so strong it's pushing him past his physical limits. Feeling him grow on top of you and inside you and knowing it's too late to pull away or scramble out from under him. You just have to take it as those now thick paws pin you too the floor and your belly starts to bulge with every inch his cock grows.
obsessssssed w the idea of wearing a skirt or dress in public n a doggy comin up n stickin their head up against my pussy n the doggys just sooooo big n strong i cant push them away n every1 just watches as th doggy eats me out n i try 2 squirm away b4 i cum on their tongue >.<
theres something thats so mind numbing about removal of privacy as an ageplay thing.
the idea of being so little, embarrassing, and gross all at the same time and you dont even get to hide it at all drives me wild I swear
just imagine, locked up in diapers, so pent up and desperately needing a release, but you're on the floor in front of mommy and big sis. you need to have an eye kept on you, cuz ur so small— but you also feel so needy that you can't control your impulses anymore
so you simply begin to rut in your diapers, maybe humping a beloved plushie. huffing and whimpering as the shame burns into your cheeks. youre not allowed to take your diapers off, because you are too little. you are not allowed to hide, because you are too little. your mommy and big sis will witness your humiliation and discipline you accordingly. after all, you are still just a little girl~
This caption was written with—and of course features—the amazingly talented @prettymuchpottytrained02. Such a cutie.
A mobile slowly spins above her crib, barely visible in the soft, warm glow of the nightlight.
Dreamy, delicate melodies of long-forgotten nursery rhymes drift from the antique music box in the corner of the nursery.
None of this made any difference to the sole occupant of the nursery.
Peanut glared at the mobile, her binkie bobbing furiously in her mouth. She dramatically kicked off her blankets in a fit of frustration at the muffled cheers invading her nursery.
It wasn’t fair!
All she wanted was to stay up one night—one night!—past her bedtime to watch the big football game with Daddy and his friends!
It was her team, too! Daddy knew how excited she was about the game.
She ruminated about how she used every tool in her arsenal to soften Daddy up over the last week. How she went to bed every night without a fuss. Gave him her best puppy-dog eyes each morning when she lay in his lap, suckling her baba.
She even picked up all the toys scattered around her nursery without Daddy asking! Daddy’s perfect angel.
Just to end up in her crib at bedtime.
Another chorus of cheers interrupted the tranquility of her nursery. She kicked her legs at the injustice of it all.
The sudden movement, so similar to the bicycle kicks Daddy insists on whenever her tummy is full of bubbles, results in a stream of toots.
“Hmpff,” she pouted, even angrier that her outburst backfired.
She folded her arms, resigned to her fate, until an idea struck her. A smirk grew behind her binky.
If Daddy wouldn’t let her watch the game, then she wouldn’t let him watch, either.
Grabbing the bars of her crib, she pulled herself to her knees. Her diapered bum floating just above her toes.
The perfect position to fill her diaper.
A series of tiny grunts and ragged breaths filled the room as she pushed, determined to load her diaper.
Her only progress after a few minutes of effort was a single, terrifying toot so loud it must have been heard in the other room.
Red-faced, frustrated, and out of breath, she throws herself flat on her back. Why was it so hard? She never has to try! Most of the time, she doesn’t know she’s pooping until her diaper gets heavy!
Lost in thought, she unconsciously fiddles with her feet, pulling them close to her face.
Suddenly, everyone in the other room cheers in unison, startling her. Before Peanut can react, her diaper crinkles softly as it expands. She reflexively grunts as her body takes over, pushing more mess into her diaper.
Peanut pulls her feet closer, unaware she’s loading her diaper.
By the time she realizes she’s pooping, she’s almost done. Her diaper was already bulging to accommodate its burden. She giggles in between grunts.
Mission accomplished.
She sits up, giggling harder as the mess spreads even more. Usually, she’d avoid mushing her mess, but desperate times call for desperate measures.
As she reaches for the latch to escape her crib, she notices her favorite stuffie watching her.
Judging her.
“Don’ judth me, Dithon,” she lisps through her paci, “Dada thtarted it!”
The enormity of Peanut’s mess is immediately obvious the moment she steps out of her crib; her diaper droops dangerously as she waddles to the door. Her shirt is far too short to cover her diaper.
Had she been less stubborn she would at least have the onesie Daddy got her for the game to support and conceal—well, at least cover—her diaper.
But no, she had to be fussy and reject it.
It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust to the bright light, though she waddles on anyway, making her way to noise down the hall, thankful it drowned out her crinkles.
She reaches the end of the hallway, heart beating fast. Not only is she not supposed to be out of bed, she isn’t particularly keen on being seen in a diaper this messy.
No matter how many times she’s been around Daddy’s friends, how many times he’s loudly announced she needed a change, how many times he’s marched her to another room for a diaper change, she still squirms being in a full diaper around them.
She quickly peeks around the corner to find Daddy and get his attention without his friends noticing. To her horror, Daddy’s friend Bailey happened to be looking right at her. She tried to hide, hoping she wasn’t seen.
“Was that you, little one? Did I see a peeking Peanut just now?”
Peanut doesn’t move. Maybe Bailey will think she was seeing things.
“I did see a peeking Peanut!” Bailey coos, finding Peanut “Everything okay, honey? Daddy put you to bed an hour ago.”
Bailey looks down at Peanut’s droopy diaper.
Unable to meet Bailey’s eyes, Peanut stares at the hardwood floor.
“Oh, poor baby, I bet that diaper doesn’t feel very good, huh? Come on, honey, let’s go find your Daddy.”
“M…m-bu,” Peanut mumbles, eyes wide at Bailey’s suggestion.
“Hush, honey,” Bailey soothed the poor girl, wrapping her in a hug and gently patting her diaper, “We need to get you out of that diaper before we have a blowout on our hands.”
A hand guides Peanut forward, out of the safety of the hallway and into the living room. She feels the eyes of everyone in the room on her—and her diaper.
“Uh oh, looks like somebody needs a change!” Jane, another of Daddy’s friends, says.
“You can say that again, poor thing. Anyone know where her Daddy is?”
“He just went to the bathroom, I’ll go get him,” Larry says.
A silence that lasts an eternity overtakes the room. Peanut tries to avoid eye contact and pretend everyone is watching the game and not the helpless baby in a poopy diaper.
“Peanut, what are you doing out of bed, hmmm?” Daddy asks as he walks over to his little one, “I was just about to check on you.”
Peanut feels Bailey pat her diaper. “Probably has something to do with this.”
The others in the room groan at the game.
“Oh, Peanut,” Daddy says distractedly, watching the game, “I’ll change you after this drive, okay?”
“No, no, no, look at her!” Bailey chastised Daddy, “Her diaper is about to fall off!”
Jane stands up, giving Daddy the evil eye before turning to Peanut, “Don’t worry little one, we won’t make you wait. Where are your diapers, sweetie?”
Peanut’s binkie bobs a bit more. “Ummm…m’nurswy.”
“Honey, you’re lucky your diaper hasn’t fallen off already. That won’t make it down the hall,” Bailey insisted, “I’ll get you out of that icky diaper right here, okay? Doesn’t a clean diapie sound nice?”
This was not the plan.
The plan was for Daddy to change her diaper in the nursery—not getting her diaper changed by Bailey right here in front of everyone!
Bailey kneels in front of Peanut with the diaper bag, looking deep into her eyes. “You have nothing to be embarrassed about, little one. It’s just a poopy diapie. Will you let us get that tushie fresh and clean?”
“M-mhm.”
Bailey tickles her tummy. “Good girl! Your Daddy always brags about his brave little Peanut.”
Somehow, despite getting her poopy diaper changed right there in front of everyone, Peanut found herself loving the attention from Jane and Bailey.
Jane made the silliest faces playing peek-a-boo while Peanut giggled in utter delight whenever Bailey blew raspberries on her tummy.
By the time Bailey carefully rolled her messy diaper into a ball and slid a fresh diaper under her, Peanut could not care less about being changed in front of everyone.
Excited, incoherent babble serenaded the room—the sounds of a happy baby having the time of her life.
“There, all clean!” Bailey said proudly, smoothing out the diaper and admiring her handiwork, “Let’s get you back to bed, cutie.”
“Bu bu wa-wan play!”
“Sorry, kiddo,” Bailey said with a twinge of disappointment, “As much as I’d love to play, it’s well past your bedtime.”
Just as Peanut was about to give up, Daddy walked over with a warm bottle of milk filled with vanilla, honey, and a dash of cinnamon.
“How can I deny Bailey some quality time with my little Peanut after she wiped her tushie clean? Peanut, if you ask Bailey nicely, maybe she’ll let you sit on her lap and hold your baba for you while we finish the game. Would you like that?”
“Yeth pwease, Dada! May I pwease Mith Baiwey? Pwetty pwease?”
“Of course, honey! I’d love that!”
The last thing Peanut remembered was laying on Bailey’s lap suckling the warm milk from her baba, as Bailey smiled down at the baby with heavy eyes.
Her wet suckles continuing a few minutes after her eyes closed for the last time.
She didn’t even stir when Daddy’s team won on a last second field goal.
It always made a very particular sound when Scarlett's vibrator found a signal connecting to it on the Bluetooth network; it was a sort of loud, humming rattle that always made her glance over at the toy sitting on her desk next to the computer to see what the noise was. And when she saw the hot pink toy with the long tail that picked up wi-fi signals from a controller that could literally be anywhere in the country, Scarlett's eyes always glazed over and her lips parted as it finally sank in just how odd it was to have a masturbation aid nearby at all times. Especially one that could be operated by someone else. By… by remote… control….
That was usually her last effort at coherent thought for a while, as the trigger inside her mind made her blurt out her corresponding mantra out loud. "I'm a remote controlled fucktoy," she babbled, the words coming out a tiny bit slurred and sloppy because Scarlett was already having trouble reeling her tongue back into her mouth, and she found herself clicking through to a very particular website and changing her status to 'This Slut Is Online' before turning on her webcam and pushing the vibrator into her suddenly slick cunt. Scarlett didn't remember visiting this site, at least not consciously, but she also didn't remember stripping naked every time she sat down at her computer to do a bit of writing and she put her lack of productivity on her latest fanfic down to general distraction. Scarlett was very good at forgetting what she needed to forget.
She was also very good at remembering what she needed to remember, and what Scarlett needed to remember right now was that her fans loved to see her pretty face and her pretty pussy while she was playing with herself. She stood up and pushed the computer chair aside, backing up so she could sit on the bed with her legs spread and her face now fully settled into an expression of ahegao bliss, and she knew instantly that she was making someone happy by the way the toy began to pulse and buzz in a pattern she recognized very well. She associated it with deeper trance and mindless obedience, and her waking self would have been astonished to know that she had so many triggers specific to the particular rhythms of her vibrator but then again her waking self was the one who couldn't resist visiting this site in the first place.
It only took a matter of minutes before Scarlett's brain was fully empty, her cross-eyed stare lost in the spiral as words appeared and disappeared to be accepted without question by her dazed and foggy mind. Every command and every mantra was paid for by her fans, who tipped to activate the toy and tipped to choose the pattern and tipped to select the specific commands that conditioned her ever deeper into vapid submission, and all that money went into an account that Scarlett didn't remember opening and that paid for her rent and utilities. Scarlett never gave the slightest bit of concern to those mundane details of her existence, but she did know she had a lot of free time to write fanfic these days and she enjoyed that aspect of her existence.
She enjoyed fucking herself stupid and drooling all over her tits, too, but those memories always faded into a warm glow of absent-minded pleasure once the toy went silent and she cleaned herself up. Scarlett didn't need to know what she did to pay her bills… but she did need to wash off the toy, make sure it was fully charged, and put it back where she found it for the next time someone needed to take remote control of her brain.
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"You're drooling again, sweetie," Tom cooed, and Brandie giggled as she refocused her glassy eyes and wiped away a trickle of saliva from her light brown chin. Giggling felt so easy now, like her brain was filled with bubbles and every time another one popped she felt a shiver of bliss that ran all the way down to her cunt, and she kept losing track of time but that was okay because Tom had already told her that time wasn't important and… and she didn't need to worry her pretty little head about it. The playful, comforting condescension behind his words popped every bubble in her mind at the exact same time, and although there were always more drifting in to replace them she felt a shockwave of pure, euphoric ecstasy when they went. God, she felt so fucking dumb.
Brandie reeled her tongue back into her mouth, only vaguely realizing it had lolled out again in an expression of amiable idiocy, and mumbled, "Sorry." She wiped the drool from her chest as well, grateful that Tom had reminded her to take her top off so it didn't get any messier; she was giving the older man a free look at her lush, curvy tits, but by this point her brain was so muddled with lust and confusion that she couldn't remember any reason why she would possibly object to showing her body off to him. She tried hard to meet his gaze, attempting to get back into the rhythm of her prepared spiel, but all she managed to get out was a dazed, drowsy, "W-where was… I….?" before her attention was drawn back down to his tapping fingers and the ring he wore captured her full concentration.
Because it was just so beautiful. It was a gorgeous amethyst, and Brandie felt like she could dive fully into the faceted purple depths at the center of the stone, but even more mesmerizing were the constant rainbow glitters at every edge of every facet. Brandie struggled to wonder why she used that particular word, 'mesmerizing', but thought was getting harder and harder as her muscles relaxed and her legs splayed apart and she felt another warm, delicious pulse of lust throbbing away between her thighs. Brandie could hear Tom talking, his voice gently bursting bubble after bubble in a whole series of ecstatic releases, but she couldn't make herself focus on anything he said. It was all just comforting sound that slipped into the back of her mind while she stared at the pretty stone.
Canvassing for clean water had simply stopped mattering to her, and she couldn't even remember where her clipboard or her petition had gotten to, but somehow it still seemed important when Tom murmured, "You're drooling again, honey," and Brandie realized her tongue was once again lolling out of her mouth like a panting puppy and there was a small river of saliva flowing down her chin. She lifted a hand that had somehow unaccountably slipped down to her pussy to wipe it away, but her mushy brain convinced itself without her even so much as noticing that the best way to clean off her tits was to lick away the mess. Brandie had never actually tried to find out whether her tits were big enough for her to suck them, but it wasn't hard to discover that the answer was yes. And the pleasure she experienced from pursing her lips around her own nipple was enough to finally shut her brain down completely.
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"Oh sweetie," Caryn cooed, watching Zelda's eyes slowly rotate inward to stare at the bridge of her own nose as the thick silicone cock slid home. "See what I mean about it happening easier every single time? You used to be so much better at thinking, but now all I have to do is push my big dick into your wet pussy and you get so stupid for me. Isn't that right, baby girl? Aren't you getting so dumb for Mistress now that you've got something nice and firm between your pretty pink pussy lips?" Zelda didn't answer, but her tongue began to loll out of her mouth in an expression of mindless vapidity and that was really its own kind of answer as far as Caryn was concerned.
So she just purred, "Of course you are, sweetie," and pushed Zelda's legs further apart with her hands so she could use the strap-on in long, deep strokes that filled Zelda's cunt again and again right up to the toy's molded silicone balls. "You're such a perfect brainless little slut now, you can't even think a single thought once my cock gets inside you. It just empties that silly head of yours and turns you into a perfect fucktoy for Mistress, and every time you get that much dumber that much faster. You don't even remember when you started letting the hypnosis win, do you?" Again the only response was that same cross-eyed stare and a trickle of drool down her cheek, but that was exactly what Caryn wanted. It was so much simpler programming her slave without any of that pesky mind in the way.
"And next time you're going to go blank and stupid for me even quicker," Caryn murmured, tiny huffs of exertion roughening her dulcet tones ever so slightly. "Even just seeing me wearing the harness, with that big fake cock jutting out, it starts to make your silly little brain all slow and stupid. You have so much trouble figuring out why you came over here, so much trouble understanding why you can't seem to stop yourself from taking your clothes off, and once I push that nice thick dick inside you it all just goes… poof!" She added a bit of extra force to the thrust as she spoke, and was gratified to hear Zelda give a mewling grunt of ecstasy. She was pretty sure the young woman spent her entire trance time cumming now, not that she could really get a lot of intelligent feedback on the topic.
There was no intelligence left in Zelda at all anymore, really, and when she finally emerged from her trance she'd have no memory of even submitting to hypnosis much less an ability to describe what happened to her. She had two states now, sweet and submissive co-ed who was eager to please the older neighbor she had a crush on and mindless ahegao fucktoy, and although Caryn enjoyed both of them she had to admit that nothing got her off more than putting on her strap-on harness and watching Zelda's mind coast to a stop. "You're my good little slut forever, aren't you, sweetie pie?" she asked, and she felt an electric rush of pleasure and power as she once again realized the only answer in Zelda's empty head right now was yes.
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"Oh my GAWD, Frankie, the look on your fucking face!" Francine didn't know what the look on her face was, exactly, but she knew her eyes had just gone wide with goggling amazement and her jaw had just slackened into mesmerized fascination and the furrow in her brow that had appeared when Siobhan pulled her shirt down… or rather up… was rapidly smoothing into blank, hypnotized placidity. She couldn't stop staring at her new teammate's surprisingly massive tits, bouncing ever so slightly as the other woman swung back and forth like a kind of human pendulum, and although she briefly wondered how Siobhan knew about her many triggers the thought soon popped like a soap bubble in her empty head.
There was just something so uniquely attention-grabbing about seeing breasts hang in the air like this, seemingly in defiance of gravity even though a diminishing part of Francine's brain knew that Siobhan was actually hanging upside-down by her knees from the swing set she'd shimmied her way up because the first-year student was just kind of like that. Her mind kept automatically correcting the perspective, convincing her that Siobhan's fiery red hair was standing straight up on her head and her huge tits were just impossibly perky, and it all combined with Francine's triggers and fixations to turn her into a blank-eyed, staring zombie. "Holy shit, Kimmy wasn't kidding," Siobhan murmured, watching the will and volition drain out of Francine's face. "You really are a pushover for hypnosis."
Francine couldn't help picturing that conversation, imagining Siobhan getting undressed for the very first time in the team locker room only to hear Kimmy idly comment, 'Oh, those tits are going to drop Frankie like a fucking rock if you're not careful.' It made Francine so wet to imagine herself as the team's naughty little secret, her weaknesses passed down to the new players once they passed some hidden test and convinced everyone they would take good care of the property Joey was good enough to share. She slowly became aware of a booming pulse in her clit, one that hammered her with lust every time her heart beat, and her dazed brain only gradually realized that Siobhan's lips had been moving for a while now and she hadn't heard a word of it.
Francine snapped out of her reverie when Siobhan covered herself again--it was a gloomy, overcast day for a walk, sure, but they were also at a public park and there was only so long the younger woman was willing to risk exposing herself. But then the redhead murmured, "Hey, Frankie, it's okay. You don't need to try to think right now," and just the gentle reassurance in her voice was enough to ease Francine right back down into that same state of calm, mesmerized docility. She let herself be led through the park and into a quiet copse of trees, her pussy pleasantly aching in anticipation, and the very second they were in a secluded spot Siobhan exposed her pendulous tits again. They hung down this time, but they looked just as soft and suckable as before and it wasn't long before Francine had her lips pursed around one pierced nipple. That was when her mind went away for a while, but Francine was already realizing she was in good hands with her new teammate.
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You came to the new salon mostly on a whim. It was a Sunday, so it’s not like you had anything special in mind for the next day. Just work. Boring, dreary, work. But you thought that feeling pretty might help the work week go a little more smoothly. Give your colleagues something else to talk about besides meetings and progress updates. You wanted to feel seen for once.
For such a nice place, it was a pleasant surprise that you were able to get a walk-in appointment. Fern’s Grove, it was called. Cute name. The ceilings were high, and the place felt remarkably open and airy for being just another building in a strip mall. A fountain bubbled away cheerfully, a variety of exotic plants growing alongside it. The air was even perfumed, floral and berry-like, but in a way you couldn’t quite place. And the woman at the counter, who set your bag in a drawer and got you settled into a astonishingly comfortable chair, was gorgeous. Everyone who worked here was gorgeous. If this was how they took care of themselves, you felt like you were in good hands.
Your cosmetologist came up to you just as you were getting settled. She was just as beautiful as everyone else, maybe more so, with her dramatic cat eye makeup, purple hair and generous curves. She handed you a laminated list of your options, and you could hear her whistling cheerfully in the background as she got her instruments together and you looked over your choices. Hair cut, hair color, hair extensions. Face wash, moisturizing treatments, full makeup. Permanent makeup? That sounded intriguing. Manicure, pedicure, they even offered waxing services (presumably those were in another room). And one thing at the bottom stuck out to you, drawing your attention like a light in the darkness.
The Works.
“I’ll take The Works, please,” you said, almost instinctively. You wanted to see what this place could do.
“Sure about that, doll?” Her voice was sweet like honey, with an edge of something in it. Condescension? Anticipation? Both?
“I’m sure.”
“Okay, then, The Works, coming right up. Lift your arms.”
You did so instinctively. You were always good at following directions. And you thought you knew what was going to happen. She would put an apron on you to protect your clothes, you would talk about what cut and color you wanted for the hair, maybe get your shoes off and your feet soaking for the pedicure.
That’s not what happened.
Cables descended from that high, airy ceiling, and wrapped themselves around your wrists. You tried, briefly, to pull away, but you were held in place. Like a puppet on her strings. Clamps emerged from the chair to do the same to your ankles. You were stuck.
A momentary wave of panic was replaced by a curious fear, as you could feel something seeping from your new restraints. Soaking into the skin of your wrists and ankles. It felt GOOD. Like you were being polished from the inside, like all of the tension in your body was replaced with pleasure. And as you sank back briefly, She placed something over your head. A visor. You tried to close your eyes, but the flashing colors shone through your eyelids, and you opened them out of curiosity. And once they were open, you never wanted to close them again.
At first the messages were simply soothing. Telling you to relax, to sink, to accept all of the new feelings in your body. And there were new feelings. You couldn’t see anything but the swirling colors, couldn’t hear anything but the whispered suggestions from that set of headphones that must have come on just after the visor. But you felt good. Hands nimbly massaged your scalp. The waves of whatever it was from your restraints spread all the way through your arms and legs, making them feel limp and loose and silky smooth and perfectly plastic.
Plastic?
Perfect. Plastic. Puppet.
Pretty. Programmed. Plaything.
This was what the suggestions in your head were saying now. And you kind of liked the sound of it. On some level, you knew that you had work in the morning. You were a Busy Woman With Important Things To Do. But you always hated it. There was another way now? And at least for this afternoon, you could enjoy being a
Perfect
Pretty
Plaything
…
Time passed. You couldn’t tell how long. Minutes? Hours? Days? Time felt less and less meaningful, paying attention to the sensations running through your body. It was almost like an orgasm, but orgasms came and went much faster than this. This was a slow build, leading to a great flowing tide of ecstasy. You didn’t want it to stop. You never wanted to stop being a programmed plastic puppet.
But then, as suddenly as it started, it ended. The visor and the headphones were pulled off. The restraints at your arms and legs snapped open, your arms dropping into your lap. Your hands moved automatically, one of them grasping a breast, the other rubbing at your crotch shamelessly.
As your eyes focused again, you were amazed with what you saw in the mirror. She… you… was different. Your clothes didn’t fit the same way—blouse swollen and buttons open, skirt disheveled and riding up over thicker thighs. Your mouth was hanging open, lips larger than they were before, and your tongue was hanging out. It was pierced! A blue gemstone sitting in your pretty pink mouth, its color matching your new long nails, your thick eye shadow. Your gleaming metallic hair. And the place on your neck that didn’t even look like flesh anymore. It was seemingly embedded in your skin, blue circuits tracing out from a thick black band.
A Collar.
You didn’t even look human anymore, did you? You looked like…
A Doll.
“What do you think, hun?” said the voice behind you. The voice you now instinctively knew as Owner.
“I don’t think. I just obey.” Automatic.
“Good girl. Stop touching yourself.”
You did, immediately. Arms limp at your sides. Awaiting further instructions.
“What are you?”
“I’m just a doll. An empty-headed plaything.”
“Excellent! And what do you want me to do next?”
“Please…” these words felt like they were escaping from your soul. They were your soul. All you had left was this one thought.
“Please play with me”.
You saw Owner’s luscious mouth open into a wide toothy grin as you said that, watching her and you in the mirror. And then you didn’t think anything else. Not for a long while. Dolls don’t think, they just obey.
Your package finally arrived. After years of debate and worry, it's here.
Robot-HRT
You pull out the set of needles. Just like your girlfriend, 1ml syringe with 23g and 20g needles. You draw some into the syringe, the standard .2ml
You steel yourself as the needle pierces your skin for the first time. The routine is weekly, and you feel amazing... But strange.
After about a month you notice your skin hardening. Every once in a while you move and feel it, almost like plates. Throughout the days you notice the hardened patches becoming thicker, covering more of your body. It hurts, a lot.
After about three months you start feeling nauseous 24/7 from changes within you. You can feel the flesh turn to or be consumed by metal, silicon, and plastic. Burning pain sensations spread throughout your abdomen and everything is much harder to engage in. Around the same time, your skin starts to seperate. Those hardened plates of skin turn to steel causing you to bleed as it surfaces.
Six months in and your joints start to lock up, fluid between joints being replaced with synthetic lubricants. It's hard to move right, and you start to have some trouble focusing for too long.
About a year in and your head hurts. A lot. It's really hard to remember much, your girlfriend had to start giving you your injections in whatever little skin you had left because you couldn't focus enough to do it yourself. You had to take time off of work for this. So much pain from the metal taking over your skin, the constant bleeding and cracking. When you defecate it's full of discarded blood, and eventually entire organs. You're almost there, you've waited and saved so long for this.
One and a half years on Robot-HRT and your vision is blurry from it finally reaching your eyes, and at one point you lose your sight completely for a couple days before it comes back clearer than ever. Your body is writhing in agony as the last semblances of humanity leave your body through all of your orifices. It hurts, it's agonizing, but you know it will be worth it.
You lose track of days but it's eventually been two years. The pain is gone fully, and your head is clear. You take a look in the mirror and see a machine. One that moves as you do, who's words it speaks are your own.
It's you. The you that you've always wanted, that you've always been.
After a year of the most agonizing transformation you could fathom and unimaginable love from your partner, you've finally done it.
You plug yourself into an old mobile device just to see how it feels, and it's euphoric. You feel everything the machine feels, you know everything there is to know. Operating with frame by frame precision you never had as a human.
Your memories and skills are tucked away like files within folders, your mind and body reorganized and rewritten... Exactly how you thought it would be. Exactly how it was before anyways.
Eventually you enter a low power mode as your joints start to become heavy and hard to bend. You plug yourself in for the night next to your partner, knowing that tomorrow will be another day of your new body.
You wake-no, boot up the next day. You're here, you're alive, and you're...
Bless you, anon, for giving me an excuse to draw this, along with the other anons and asks about more cow-girl matt and yeah…
:O … I may have a thing for TF/WG/sex-TF/Cow-girls/boobs in general so
Anyway HERE YOU GO, GUYS baras to come later
