wg imagine story with a freaky body transformation twist
imagine a species of buglike aliens coming to take over the earth. they are short breeding stock, and so they kidnap men and women alike to transform their bodies using hormones into the massive brood queens required to produce their armies of drones. imagine being selected as one of these people, and getting forced onto a spaceship and trapped in a small cubicle where you are fed fattening slop full of transformative hormones against your will. first your body expands in the normal sense, belly and tits ballooning forward like they would on an overly pregnant person. Once you are almost immobilized by your own weight the other changes begin, your rolls multiplying as your body becomes segmented. You lose track of your arms and legs, rolling onto your side as you become unable to do anything but squirm on the floor of your cubicle. you are reduced to a massive pale lump, looking like a giant slug with no discernible limbs. This is when they finally return and, locating your genitals against all odds, fill you with spawn for you to incubate. No longer able to speak through your thick mandibles or really think, this part feels natural, and you enjoy the feeling of the warm eggs filling you up. Soon enough you are producing countless little grubs, unable to do anything but moan and wiggle as they each slide out of your once-human form into the waiting arms of the bug aliens. Afterwards you are ready to accept the next batch, becoming one of their most successful brood mothers in the entire facility.
Oh shit you’re tfing people now? Hell yeah sign me up!
You totally won’t reflect any changes made to me not at allllll
- @mothgirlantennae
I would prefer to be TF'd more than I TF others, but I figured putting some uhhh good will out into the universe would help get me TF'd more, teehee!
I think though it'd be fun to play with your namesake a little bit. Moth girl antennae? Not until you're two inches tall and covered in fuzz! I reach out and pinch my fingers and scale you down easy peasy, just like that. Nevermind how now to fluff you up I have to shrink myself down and feel your boobs until the softness grows out. Now no one will be able to tell what part of your massive rack is your boobs and which part of it the moth fuzz! Oops, looks like I got a little on myself... oh well, I can clean up later.
I reach to the top of your forehead with two fingers and tap! As I pull away, two looong fluffy antennae peal out from my fingers. Oh, so, so cute! I pinch at them a little and they're a bit sensitive so you squirm a little and I'm so focused on teasing you I don't notice two antennae poking out of my forehead myself! I cover your eyes with my hands and when I pull back they're faceted, like a moth's should be! And when I run my hands along your hair, the hair gets fluffier and fluffier. So does your mind a little too, and you start giggling, and it makes me giggle, and I'm not noticing the changes happening to me anymore either. Now I have the fluffy moth hair--albeit shorter than yours--and long moth antennae and big fluffy tits that puff out from my top like yours do. Although my antennae are slightly bigger, and more colorful, as is common with moths ^^
And when I turn you around to pull out your wings, mine pop out too! And when I run my hands along your back, I reach your ass, and it puffs out with more fluff like your tits did! I linger there a bit longer, because suddenly I realize how good you smell, nice and sweet... did you know female moths emit pheromones to attract male moths? That's what we are now, a cute mothgirl and mothboy, hourglassed fluff with interlacing antennae that we like to rub together because it feels so good and maybe we reach out for each other and pull in... and when we're done with each other, I can't remember ever being anything other than a cute empty-headed mothboy! Hopefully you don't mind what I've done to you, because I don't know if I can remember how to undo it!
Lying against the wall, staring down at your slowly growing body with half-lidded eyes, panting for breath.
Another mutagenic pillbug, the size of your fist, clambers off of your shoulder and onto your cheek. You don't even hesitate, simply opening your mouth and letting it climb in, where it curls into a ball and slides down your mutating gullet.
The pillbugs had originally tasted quite bad. Bitter, coppery. The first dozen or so had quite literally had to force their way into your mouth and down your throat. But they literally had not stopped force-feeding themselves to you since you found their nest under your floorboards.
It was around the twelfth one, as the mutagens they excreted began to soak into your body, that the taste had gotten... almost bearable.
Then, it was actually pretty good.
Now, with your taste buds registering them as sweet and fruity, like gummy candy, you can't even bring yourself to bother putting up a resistance. They're just so delicious.
Your body was changing. Growing. Getting longer and longer, fatter, rounder. You had long shucked off your clothes, the better to watch your slowly ongoing transformation.
Your spine had elongated, almost twice the length you used to be, now.
Your belly was a massive, soft cushion.
Your arms and legs were growing pudgier, a layer of comfortable fat widening them.
You could see your feet had changed, becoming more like a digitigrade paw. If you wiggled your toes, it resembled more like a fat hand than anything.
Three new pairs of arms, six total, had sprouted from your sides. It hadn't taken long for you to figure out how to control them.
A fine layer of soft, fuzzy fur was growing, spreading along your elongating form.
You recognized just what you resembled.
You were becoming a giant Velvet Worm.
Somehow, you couldn't bring yourself to be as worried as you knew you probably should be.
Maybe it was the mutagens, sinking into your brain, floating you on a soporific haze.
Or maybe it was your cock, a full foot long now, with a pointed tip, waving in a decidedly prehensile fashion, emerging from a long slit in the middle of where your midsection had once been.
It had been growing for a while now. As your body changed, your cock had made itself known.
New thoughts filled your head. Thoughts of mating, and breeding.
You numbly pulled your phone closer to you, from where you had dropped it.
This is why we don't do fingerprint unlock, you thought to yourself as your thumb slid along your unlock pattern.
Another candy-tasting pillbug pokes at your cheek with one foreleg, and you absently open your mouth, chewing hungrily on it with a mighty crunch.
Your new thumbs clumsily type on your phone's keyboard. One of your new hands was gently stroking your long cock, up and down.
In the Yahoogle search bar:
do velvet worms lay eggs?
As it turned out, that was a complicated question, but the answer boiled down to “some do, some don't, depending on the species.”
Huh. Interesting.
You weren't sure which idea appealed to you more. Carrying live, squirming young within you, or laying a mass of soft, velvety eggs…
Your long, fleshy cock wriggled in delight in one chubby hand.
You leaned forward, once again, trying to see if it would reach your mouth. You strained forward, mouth agape, trying so hard to reach it as you stretched it toward your face...
...not quite. Just short.
You sighed, falling back against the wall. No matter. You were still growing, and your bugdick showed no sign of stopping either. A little longer.
You were dimly aware, somewhere in your mutagen-addled mind, that you were losing control.
That perhaps this was reversible, if you could get help.
But once your cock could reach your mouth... that was the ballgame. You'd be lost.
You could just imagine... your mouth sliding around your cock, enveloping it in warm, wet heat... your tongue sliding into your cocktip, tasting your own sweet precum... it sliding down your throat, your gag reflex long gone... being able to caress every inch of your own length, until that tight heat rose within it like a shotgun blast, cumming down your own throat and into your growing gut, adding to your own cushion of blubber... all the better to provide a warm, nourishing softness for your babies...
You shook off the thought, your antennae rustling gently above your head. So long as you had to wait anyway, you might as well make your home more comfortable.
Rising to your extra forelegs, you carefully lumbered out of your room and down the hall to the thermostat. You cranked the temperature up, sighing with relief as you felt the heat come from the vents. You’d have to dig that humidifier out of the closet, too. And hunt down as many blankets, sheets, towels, cushions, and pillows you had. Even better, take your clothes off the hangers and out of the drawers. You’d need as much cushioning as you could get, for what was to come.
~/~/~
So much later, your partner finally arrives home.
They blink in confusion, already shucking their winter jacket off, with how warm and humid the house is.
They squint in the dim light, searching for you.
A massive, twenty-foot long shape rises from the nest of clothes it had built, your long, snakelike penis sliding from your mouth with a wet pop.
Your partner gasps in shock, unknowingly inhaling a big lungful of the pheromones you’d been emitting for the past few hours.
Their brain goes fuzzy, their thoughts slowing to a crawl.
They giggle giddily, almost drunkenly, feeling a horny warmth rise within them.
The enormous velvet worm smiles, your black, mirror eyes seeming happy, proud.
You caress your enormous belly with four eager hands, a fifth one cramming another juicy pillbug into your mouth, juices trickling down your chin.
As your partner staggers toward the nest, your cock is ready and eager, precum dribbling from its tip.
You’re already imagining what comes next. First, you’ll pump them full of babies. Then, once their muta-cock grows in, they can pump you full of babies.
A few hours from now, once their transformation has finalized, the two of you will curl up around each other, tails and bodies lacing around and around each other, pregnant bellies pressed against each other, suckling each other in the world’s most interlaced, convoluted sixty-nine, as you wait for your babies to gestate.
