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/tf/ - Transformation

Straight transformation fetishes.
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Eve of Depravity By Changing Destiny.

Eve Bright was a good person, but if one looked at her more deeply they would have realised that she was also rather odd. Every Sunday morning twenty-two year old Eve went to church, no it wasn't that she was religious, in fact she wasn't even if everyone including her parents thought she was, it was more about the fact that some of her friends were believers and she didn't want to insult them by not supporting their views. The truth of the matter was that Eve was like that with much of her life, she did things not because she wanted to but because she knew they would please others.

One evening when Eve was washing the dishes after she had cooked dinner for her family she was shocked when she and her family were taken hostage by a bikie leader who was on the run from the police. Eve quickly learnt that the man's name was William but he liked to be called Will.

In an attempt to keep her family safe from Will who seemed more then a little off balance, Eve quickly informed him that she would do anything he wanted so long as he promised not to hurt her family. Having thought about Eve's offer Will who really wasn't looking to harm anyone so much as he was looking for a safe place to hide out for six months so the police couldn't touch him quickly agreed and the first thing he wanted her to do was to cook him a good dinner. Knowing that she needed to keep her family safe from this man Eve quickly made him the best dinner that she could and when he had finished eating it he had to admit that it was the best grub that he had eaten in many years.

Soon after dinner was over and as Eve watched Will closely she noticed that he seemed to be making eyes at her older sister who had been tied up and gagged with the rest of her family. Having watched Will for nearly an hour to see what he was going to do Eve realised that he was about to make some kind of move so she stepped in front of him.

"Wait," said Eve who was about to throw herself on her sword or was that Will's sword for her sister, "Lea is in a relationship so if you leave her alone and the rest of my family then I'll do what ever you want and I mean what ever…"

At that point Will was faced with a bit of an issue, having worked out that the brick walls of the house were enough to muffle all noise, all he was going to do was to take off the family's gags so long as they promised not to scream but with Eve offerPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


Changing Clothes
by Tang.

Yvonne ran her fingers along the top of the rather dated wardrobe the previous residents had left in her house. With all her unpacking undone she had decided to arrange things to her satisfaction. Despite its age the wardrobe's mirror was still clear and she liked the colour and feel of the wood. He fingers brushed against something slippery. She reached further and pulled it down. It was some sort erotic clothing, a kind of glossy harness, something she heard about from friends who had attended lingerie and sex toy parties but had never seen in real life. She did not consider herself prudish but it did feel strange holding something so sexual. Yvonne stroked the slippery material and it made her feel aroused. She stepped back and held it up to herself looking at her reflection in the mirror. Suddenly she felt the urge to wear it. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, why had she felt that? It did not belong to her, she should bundle all this stuff off and see if the estate agents could forward it, but it was so smooth and shiny. This was her house now, and anything in it belonged to her. It looked unworn, there was no-one to see her, why should she not try it on? It would be a bit of a laugh. Yvonne laid the harness down on the bed and found that without thinking she was unbuttoning her blouse. That felt good. She continued removing her blouse and then more quickly she unzipped her skirt. A glow was awakening in her pussy, as if rewarding her for doing the right thing. There was nothing to stop her quickly stripping out of her bra and panties.

Yvonne picked up the harness, keen to feel the gloss material against her naked body. As she slipped into the harness it clung to her hips, her back and her body coating them in the gloss. As she buckled it tight, she realised that it ran as a thong through her bum and lifted her naked tits. It was split at her crotch and her pubic hair showed through. She looked at her reflection in the mirror and twisted back and forth so the gloss rippled. Yvonne felt relaxed and yet aroused. She also felt something was missing. She reached on top of the wardrobe and her fingers touched on something else slippery. She pulled out a long boot and then another. Tucked inside each was a long glossy glove. Yvonne could hardly believe she had found such erotic clothes, but in moments that thought had been driven from her mind by a mindless urge. Quickly she eased first one leg then thPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


By Tang

Part 1
Hannah was proud of her new flat. It might be small, but it was hers and it was ultra-modern and stylish. Her place was on the third floor of the block which was a gleaming squashed cylinder with high-tech passcards rather than keys and a lift with curved walls that spoke in a sensual voice to tell you which floor you had reached. The wardrobes were fitted into the walls and when closed were hidden behind long mirrors. She had now unpacked the last of her clothes and hung them in the wardrobe. Hannah decided it was time for a snack before she turned to ornaments she had to put around the house. She clicked off the bedroom light, but something stopped her in the doorway. The room was not dark: there was a faint glow that seemed to be emerging from the wardrobe. She wondered if it was a design feature. She was rather concerned it might be distracting when she was trying to get to sleep. Maybe there was a switch inside that she had knocked when hanging the clothes. She went back to check, clear that she did not want to be wasting electricity.

Hannah opened the wardrobe door and now in the darkness could make out a narrow strip of light running down the left hand side of the rear of the wardrobe. In the glow she sought out the switch but could not find one. Intrigued Hannah reached towards the strip of light and slipped her fingers into what turned out to be a crack. As she tugged at it, Hannah imagined it would pull away to reveal some electrics or a type of maintenance hatch. Thinking that, though, did not suppress her curiosity. In moments the back of the wardrobe swung out to reveal a brightly-lit space beyond. Hannah found it difficult to take in what it was. It was almost like a second wardrobe behind her own, and she was pleased at the extra space. Two tapering black things rose from the floor to about waist height and at first she took them to be some kind of pipe. The chamber she had revealed was large enough for her to step into and she pushed through her clothes to walk enter it.

The small room was like a cylindrical pod, coming to a point at the ceiling and flat, with a ring of light, beneath her feet. Now she was in here she could see that the black items rising from the floor were in fact long shiny boots. At their base were pointed toes and sharp heels. They were the kind of thing she had seen on some fashion shows and the occasional website she had stumbled across when searching onliPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


Catkin Wood
By Tang.

It seemed a really boring summer this year in London. The air was sticky and all her friends seemed to be off on holiday. A hectic work schedule meant that she was not going to get a break for herself until at least September. Fed up of another weekend with the best option being to traipse round the city parks full of noisy families and rollerskaters, Julie hopped on the train heading West, and, buying a ticket right out to Bristol, decided instead to get off at the smallest station this slow train stopped at. Immediately she found it was nice to be out in the fresh air. She had a quiet lunch in a decent pub then decided to walk into the hills beyond the village. Soon she was wandering along a real country lane really enjoying the sunshine and the quiet.

Julie crested a little hill and just over the thick hedge she could see a wood. As she turned the corner, off to that side, a curious stone archway came into view. It intrigued her. There seemed to be no road beyond it, but she guessed it had once led to a manor house. It had wooden planks jammed under it, but they looked pretty rotten. By the side of the pillar was a faded sign that said "Catkin Wood". It sounded like the usual type of strange name one found in the English countryside. Julie found herself fascinated by the arch and rather than walk on, went up to the boards. She pushed at a couple of them and almost immediately one gave way. With a delicious sense of mischief, Julie managed to slip through the gap to the other side. Once through she felt surprisingly excited and was keen to explore the sunlit woodland ahead.

In front of Julie a thin dirt path led into the woods. She walked along it and was soon under the shade of the trees. The path wound through the woodland and she soon lost sight of the fields. She loved the way shafts of light came through the trees and the sound of birds and other wildlife came from all around her. Julie was so glad she had come down from London and pleased that she had stumbled or rather trespassed into this place, rather than having to simply walk past rather similar looking fields.

Then the way crossed a small wooden bridge over a brook. Julie’s path now seemed if it was intentionally lit by the beams of light coming through the leaves. Somehow as she followed it she felt it was right to do so. The tranquillity of the setting dismissed any worries about breaking the law to be here though she stPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


When Mary awoke on Thursday, she never imagined it would be her last day as a White suburban housewife. She married Sudhir in college and at the time, her Indian boyfriend seemed so worldly and cultured. It was only that character that let her get beyond her white toast upbringing which looked down on other ethnic groups. When they were married, she discovered that he had a very rich fantasy life which invaded their bedroom. Mary was used to dressing up as a maid, dancer or tens of other costumed roles when it came time for sex. But this week had been very strange. Sudhir had been planning a trip to India to visit the factories that produced his high fashion garments sold in department stores. Over the last years, Sudhir had gone to India about once a year to keep track of the business. He seemed very agitated since last week when he said that his parents were expecting to meet Mary on this next trip. Mary had always thought it strange that Sudhir's parents did not make it to their wedding and hadn't visited in the last years. Nor did they socialize with any of his relatives in the states. But she had never seen him like this before.

Sudhir sat her down when he came home from work and asked her whether she really loved him. Mary replied "Of course I do". He asked whether she would do ANYTHING for him if it was really important. Mary thought and said "yes, you know I would do anything for you". Sudhir explained that his parents were really traditional and would be shocked if Sudhir revealed that his wife was not Indian. He had thought about having someone pose as his wife on the trip but told Mary that it would be unfair to her. What he was asking instead was whether Mary would pose as an Indian during the trip. As she looked at her 5"4" curvy whited skinned, blond haired body, she laughed at the prospect. "I could never pass" Mary said. "You leave that to me" Sudhir said ominously.

That night Sudhir said he was taking her to a salon where a friend of his was going to help with the plan. Mary imagined that she was getting her hair dyed and getting hair extensions so she happily got into the car with her loving husband. She had no idea what was in store for her.

When they arrived, Mary was surprised to see that the "salon" was in a non-descript warehouse in the industrial part of town. Sudhir brought her inside and introduced her to a pleasant looking Indian woman in a lab coat named Anuja. The woman looked her up and down and saidPost too long. Click here to view the full text.

File: 1484158566795.png (815.03 KB, 1000x1280, 0qvi8bn.png) ImgOps Google


Female dog transformations anyone has more like this?


File: 1484163772064.jpg (74.51 KB, 600x900, human bitch dog.jpg) ImgOps Exif Google

This looks like it.


File: 1484166316676.jpg (175.56 KB, 1280x984, 20160307_102_006.jpg) ImgOps Exif Google


‘Hahsni’ is my phonetic translation of the Korean word for avatar. I was unable to find a dictionary that could provide the word, so please excuse if it is not the way you would pronounce it. This story shares a couple of common traits with many of my others. First it features a change in clothing and appearance shifting a woman’s outlook and behaviour; a subtle form of mind control. Second, one of the female characters featured in this one, particularly in terms of clothing, is based on an actual woman I encountered on public transport while travelling in the UK. Seeing her coming on to a busy bus inspired this story.

By Tang
Part One

“My name is Heo Kwan, sorry, in the English style, Kwan Heo, Heo is my family name.” A man’s voice beside Rachel said.

Rachel Mundy was on her usual bus heading to work. Now she turned her head away from the window she had been gazing out of to see who was speaking. As his name suggested, he was East Asian in appearance. Immediately Rachel guessed he was a student and that he was probably in his early twenties. She imagined that he was probably Chinese, because Beth at work had told her that the university in their town, like most across the country, was now recruiting lots of Chinese. Though Rachel had never really looked at Asian men much before, this Kwan struck her as handsome. His styling seemed to have been borrowed from the 1950s. She was not certain if it had been James Dean or Marlon Brando, but she had a memory of a photograph of a man like this, dressed in a black leather jacket over a white teeshirt and wearing blue jeans. His raven black hair seemed gelled into a Fifties style and it accentuated his angular but elegant features. Maybe elegant was not the right word, but, for some reason, Rachel felt that, for all of his rebel style, Kwan was a gentleman in the making.

Rachel had been taught to be polite and interacting with the customers she encountered had further enhanced that tendency. She did not consider that many British women of her background; from her age group, she was now thirty-four and who, like her, had rarely strayed from this town would have simply ignored the young man’s introduction.

“Hello, I am Rachel, Rachel Mundy. Nice to meet you.” Rachel said warmly, reinforced with a smile that came automatically to her lips.

“You are going to work?” Kwan asked. His voice was accented but not to the extent that Rachel could not understaPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


By Tang
Part Two

Rachel Mundy’s mind was not willing to accept what her eyes were telling her. Her heart was beating furiously, but her head seemed surprisingly clear. She stepped back from the mirror, not trusting the image it showed her and looked down at herself. Now she saw that was indeed dressed in tight leather clothing, just as the reflection showed. The leather was very soft and was smooth to the touch. Rachel realised this was not the cheap hard, almost brittle, leather you often saw in shops, this was quality designer leather and she wondered how much these clothes had cost. For a moment she felt rather privileged to be dressed in them and certainly appreciated how good they felt on her. Then Rachel reminded herself sharply that these were not her clothes and, in fact, she could never envisage herself dressed this way. Countering that, she told herself, that, of course, it was not ‘her’ in these clothes it was this young Korean woman and, as she knew from her own sightings of her, this outfit suited perfectly.

Rachel looked at her hand. It was smaller, slender, a more ivory shade than her skin had been. Rachel ran her hand down her front, passed her waist. As she looked around her she realised, she was a little shorter than she had been too. She took a couple of steps back and then forward to stand close to the mirror again; the thongs of her boots flailing gently as she did. Incredulous, Rachel lifted her hands to her face and ran them over her lips, her nose. Everything her fingers told her matched what she could see reflected. She turned her head and looked over her shoulder where her long black hair stretched down her back. Looking back at the mirror, Rachel ran her index finger gently around the ellipse of her eye. The face was a stranger’s, she kept telling herself, yet she realised quickly that these beautiful features seemed somehow so right for her to be wearing. She blinked and then again, but when she looked it was this face, what she was rapidly finding herself thinking of as her face, that looked back. Rachel tried to call to mind her face, what she thought of as her real face, that of Rachel Mundy. However, she found it difficult to hold all the features in her mind’s eye at once. Instead, this attractive, youthful, Oriental face maintained, by its very reflection of where she stood, that it was hers. She shook herself as if she could snap out of what she was seeing, even shake herself free of her bPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


These are old stories. Stories I'd read back in 1998 or 99, and forgot to save copies of. I thought I'd never be able to find them again…and I was right. I couldn't. But 'Bobby' did find them, and here they are. Once again, thanks goes to Bobby for finding both of these gems, particularly as I was wrong about where this story had originally been posted.

And…oh my goodness. I just REALLY noticed…

Hey, Bobby…are YOU the "Bobby" that co-authored this story?

A Day At The Park by Merlin & Bobby

The summer sun was beating down on the crowded amusement park like a heat lamp
over a tray of french fries, and tempers were flaring as throngs of
thrill-seekers queued up for 45 minutes to an hour at a time to ride for maybe
60 seconds on a roller coaster. The temperature had reached 85 degrees by ten
o'clock that morning and was up to a scorching 102 by mid-afternoon, making
walking on the blacktop akin to shuffling along inside a frying pan. The wind
which had been blowing onshore from the north yesterday had decided to add to
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


Another old one. Credit Altide for the idea.

By badcompany8888

Tuesday, October 2.

Brad and Christine were in the middle of moving into their new house when Brad’s cell phone rang. He sat down on a box and listened to his boss, Frank, congratulate him on his promotion and wish him luck in his new city. His boss then apologized for the short notice, but he was needed to go on a trip with Frank 2 days from now. Brad frowned, but agreed. He hung up the phone.

His wife of 2 months, Christine, entered the room with a box of dishes. She is thin and attractive, about 115 pounds, with long brown hair and a thin face with sharp features. She is 25 and Brad is 26. She noticed the frown on Brad’s face.

“What’s wrong, dear?” She asked.

Brad replied sadly, “I have to leave for Japan on Thursday. Frank and I have a meeting with Mister Bishsi, a big investor with our company. I might be gone for 2 weeks.”

Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


Colleen and Kevin had been friends since they were four years old. Colleen
always wanted what was best for Kevin. She also always hoped that Kevin would
someday look at her as more than just a friend; she wanted to be his girl. She
also was very rich – her parents had left her with a small fortune.

Colleen had a very large condominium overlooking a lake, a beautiful car,
expensive clothes and jewelry – everything except her man. The condominium was
large enough that she even had a room for a part-time live-in maid named
Chantel. Chantel was a pretty African American girl who was very friendly and
had a personality very much like Colleen's. She came from the Deep South and
never even graduated from grade school. She could barely write and her English
was extremely bad. She came from a very poor family, which limited both her
wardrobe and her social activities. But she had plans to change that soon – and
Colleen and Kevin’s lives would never be the same.

Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

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