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Found 6 results

  1. Digitally Corrupted

    Digitally Corrupted (Breast Expansion) Fetish tags: Breast expansion, Ass Expansion, Race change, possession, transformation, bimbo transformation, forced, lactation, domination, mind control, body swap. Natasha opened the door to her appartment, after her cursory sweep she sat down and opened her laptop, she saw an email that made her frown. "Spam folder should have detected this, "Digital Paradise" As soon as her finder made contact with the touch pad the laptop shone bright, and she was sucked into the glow, her body disintigrated to glowing pixels and the screen turned black. Psylocke, though also known as Kwon checked her phone, she was bored, upon her doing so a notification popped up. She tapped it and her phone glowed brightly before she was sucked into it, the phone clattered on the ground, screen off. Rogue strode through the jungle, completely in her element, her beautiful breasts swayed back and forth as she climbed down to the camp site, several people had left their belongings to go to the market, she opened the laptop and connected it to the long range network link the campers had brough. Checking the news she logged into her email and found something that made her laugh, Digital paradise. She clicked it and the laptop glowed bright and Rogue saw her chest disolve to pixels before the rest of her followed into the machine. Silk swinged through the city, she perched on a ledge to check her messages. She was feeling really on edge and hadn't had sex in a long time, she saw the email and moments later she was zapped into the phone which hung on the building from her web. Emma Frost was angry, she was expecting an email detailing her next operational command from Magneto, she noticed she had an unread message, it must be it. She clicked it and her body was drawn into the screen leaving nothing but the her high heels. Natasha found herself in a dark room, stony in texture, she got to her feet and looked around, she saw Emma, Silk, Rogue and Psylocke as well. She wondered how they had arrived her. "Where are we?" She said aloud. A low rumbling chuck filled the space, and the room was light by a dim blue light. A woman strode out of the darkness, a busty light skinned bombshell, with black hair to her round ass, her breasts were supple and she oozed feminine power. "You are in my part of the net, and I shall bend you to my service" Natasha felt her chest tighten, she looked down and saw her generous endowements growing until her jumpsuit unzipped then tore off, leaving her topless. She cupped her breasts, sending pleasure through her, she lost herself and fell to her knees needing her flesh. Psylocke teleported behind the woman and drew her sword to attack, before she could it vanished, the woman turned around and Kwon felt her lips fill and saw that her skin was darkening to a caremel brown, her ass widened and her uniform morphed into a pink version, with a cutout down to her navel, barely hiding her breasts. Kwon tried to teleport away, but when she used her power instead she felt her breasts surge forward, breaking from her slutty uniform. She fell forward, the Woman grabbed her by her right breast and Kwon felt herself fill with lust, for women and began fingering herself. Rogue and Emma looked to each other, before they could say anything the Woman sent a lighting bolt towards them, Emma turned to her frost form but the bolt pass through it, sending her back to human form, her skin became tanned and her breasts went from their DD cups to G cups, Emma reached out Psychically to the foe but she felt her mind torn from her body, the physical form went limp and fell. Emma was trapped in a ball of pink energy. "This will be fun" The Woman said, she turned to Silk, who knew she could do nothing, she felt like an oberver in her own body as Emma was thrust into her body, the woman sent pink energy, and Cindy felt her sex drive increase as Emma's was accomodated. With the combined sexual drive of both women, each above the average she couldn't help herself, she lept on to Rogue. Rogue felt their sexual drives enter hers and grabbed Silk's breast, instead of gaining the powers of the women she gained their appearance. Her breasts billowed out, her hair darkened and her skin tanned. She unzipped Cindy and findered her, the two woman screamed as the both felt the orgasm. The Woman then tore Cindy from her own body and placed her in the limp form of Emma. "No" Emma said through Cindy's voice. The Woman sent sexual energy in pink lightning towards her, Cindy became a perfect bimbo, her breasts reached her naval, her hips widened and her lips puffed up becoming scarlet, her black hair became blond and a dark tan covered her flesh. Cindy watched through Emma's eyes her body being changed, she knew her sexual preferences had been altered but she couldn't help herself, using Emma's psychic ability she made Silk walk up to her, she grabbed Cindy's breast and sucked it. Emma moaned in pleasure. Rogue approached the Woman, She grabbed her and felt the mysterious power flood into her, but instead of fighting her she felt the will to serve the sexual dominator, she sent energy into Natasha. Her tits became body sized and her hair grow to her knees, becoming a bright red. Kwon had regained control of herself, but before she could act Rogue rose both her hands and sent pink energy towards her. Kwons clothes vanished and her breats became impossibly firm, filled with silicone, her ass widened and became a full bubble but, her waist shrunt and her form became less athletic and more skinny. Her face became distinctly asian in appearance and her hair grew to her ass. She moaned and grabbed both her tits pushing them together. The Woman rose her hand and Rogue's hair turned pink, her breasts became beach balls, her shirt shredded in unision. Her ass widened and her lips turned brown and puffed up. Her whole skin became brown and she looked unrecocgnisable. Then the Woman took her mind and tore it out, placing Natasha's inside it, Natash felt her new body, unable to comprehend the pleasure coarsing through her. Rogue landed in the form of Natasha, immobilised by her giant breasts. Natash walked over to her, she grinded against Rogue's new booty and grabbed her breasts, then she kissed her and the two both gave in. Emma and Silk wer both still fingering each other, Silk loved this new body, she commanded Kwon to join them, her asian slutty sexified self looking more like a Korean dancer than the hero. Both Kwon and Silk sucked her tits, The woman sent a bolt of energy forth and Silk/Emma's Body lactated, the milk containted a powerful aphrodisiac and the woman became more aggressive, kissing and squeezing her titflesh. The Woman smiled, these beings would make a fine addition to her realm.  
  2. Research (whore; dg; IQ-; culture change) by Tang It had been six months since Kirstie had completed her course in creative writing. She had self-published a couple of e-books she had produced during it and now had a romance novel set in the 19th century going out to agents and publishers. However, she had not yet found something to provide her break-through as an author. Her friend, Rebecca had told her that in the age of gritty crime novels and erotica on the supermarket shelves, she needed to find something more realistic; more sexual than another Jane Austen pastiche. One night, the coffee shop she usually frequented to write in having closed, she wandered the streets seeking inspiration. However, what she could see, mainly homeless people or office workers who had been delayed getting home, hardly seemed the kind of subject matter she needed. Then as she began to wonder where she had got herself, Kirstie caught sight of a woman standing close to a street light. For a moment she thought the woman in the short, flared skirt and the leather jacket with the faux fur collar was a night clubber. However, as she walked up and down and then stopped to chat to a woman in a red leather miniskirt and a matching jacket, Kirstie realised these were prostitutes. Perhaps this was serendipity and she had been presented with a way to get what she needed for a gritty but sexy book. A little nervously she walked up to the woman with the fur collar. “Hello.” Kirstie said, smiling and hoping not to appear a challenge. “You want a date?” The woman asked. She looked Kirstie up and down as if appraising her and then along the street, Kirstie imagined, for her pimp’s approval. “Erm … no. I just want to ask some questions.” The woman looked at Kirstie a little scathingly. She hurried for her purse and pulled out some notes. “I can pay.” “And you want questions?” “Yes … if that’s alright. Yes, I want to ask some questions.” Kirstie said trying to sound a little more confident. “I’m Kirstie.” “I’m Tereza.” The woman responded and took the notes from Kirstie’s hand. “I’m a writer.” She offered now concerned to make it clear that she was not from the police or some religious group. “So you come here like a vampire?” Tereza said, challenging Kirstie. “What do you mean? I am doing research for a book. I want to make it as authentic … as real as possible.” “Yes, I get that. You expect to get our stories and put them into your book and make lots of money out of it. Yes, you might change the names and mix up some women or put them together into one, to make it easier, but it will be our stories and you earning the money.” “Well, yes … you know, I don’t mean to cause offence.” Kirstie protested. Tereza smiled. “No, you won’t do that with what we have planned. Isn’t that the situation Jada?” Kirstie could only guess; she worried about what Tereza was suggesting. “You want to get to find out what it’s really like to be working these streets?” Jada asked but seemingly in a friendly way. Kirstie wondered if Jada was truly more sympathetic to what she wanted to do. “Yes, yes, I would like that.” Kirstie replied quietly, feeling that despite Tereza’s attitude she might be about to get what she was seeking. “You heard her.” Jada said, turning to the other women. “She wants to experience what it’s like to work these streets. I am sure we can give her that, well, certainly with your help, Zyla.” Now a small woman with long dark hair stepped forward. She wore a blush shade leather jacket and a lacy bustier in pink, a short white vinyl skirt and long boots with a high heel and platform of the same colour and material. Zyla stepped right in front of Kirstie and gave a sweet smile. “Hello, Kayla, I am Zyla.” Kirstie sought to correct the woman’s error about her name, but imagined it was not worth it. The woman reached out and gently took Kirstie’s hand between her own small, tanned pair. Kirstie was unresisting. As she felt her hand resting on the palms of Zyla’s their fingers reaching from white leather fingerless gloves, Kirstie found herself suddenly relaxed as if all her problems were going to go away. “Look into my eyes.” Zyla said softly. Kirstie found she could do nothing but obey. The mascara and the eyeshadow made Zyla’s dark brown eyes look impossibly large; Kirstie felt that she could not escape their gaze. She was aware of words coming to her, almost as if they were going direct into her consciousness rather than being heard. “You are Kayla.” Zyla said and this time it became the truth. “Remember English is not your first language, your accent is strong; the way you think a Russian woman would speak. You are a prostitute, nothing else. Your pimp is Carl Robertson. You love him; you will do everything that he wants. You sell your body for him. You suck cocks, you give handjobs; you let men fuck you for money. This is your job, your only job; you love it and you cannot think of doing any other job. You know you have to wear the sexiest clothes – short skirts, bustiers, shiny leggings, long high-heeled boots or shoes, leather jackets. You love it all tight and shiny so you can show off your body and get those men in to pay to fuck you. You know you have to have sexy make up – long lashes; cock-sucking glossy lips. You know you have to have the right jewellery – a nose stud, large hoop earrings, a navel ring. This is you Kayla, this is what you know you have to have; you know nothing else except this life as a prostitute.” In Kirstie’s mind, so much was gently rubbed away. Any idea of her being an author, of all but the most basic education went from her quickly. Then in its place was the truth of her as Kayla, a prostitute strutting on this street selling her body; handing over her money to Carl. By the time Zyla had released her hand that was her existence. Slightly confused Kirstie looked around her at the women she knew were her sisters on the street. Something felt peculiar as she looked down at the checked shirt, skinny jeans and canvas shoes she wore. Anonymous 06/02/17 (Fri) 12:42:01 No.1620 “Why am I dressed like this?” Kayla asked. “You went on a visit, remember.” Zyla said softly. “But now you’re back, you need to get changed, you’re missing tricks out there.” Tereza nodded to the street. Kayla realised that that was in fact the case. “Yes, love, you need to get changed.” Jada was walking in with a man. It took some moments before she realised he was Carl, her pimp. “Come with me, I’ll take you to your place. I am sure Zyla’s done a good job, but I need to check it out.” “Where are you putting her boss?” Tereza asked. “Since they deported Nadia, her room’s empty. You’ll be happy sharing with the new girl, won’t you Jada?” Jada smiled and nodded. “Show her the ropes during the day. I want to make sure she’s giving the best.” “Sure.” “I bet you’ll love it you dirty little lezzie, having her practicing on your dildo.” Carl joked. Recognising what her pimp was talking about, Kayla found herself getting aroused. “Come on; you too, Jada and Tereza.” Carl said. Kayla obeyed. As she stood up, Carl wrapped his arm around her and groped her bum. She liked that and snuggled tight into him. Jada and Tereza followed on behind. Kayla glanced over Carl’s shoulder to see them gossiping. Kayla had expected to be taken in Carl’s car, but in fact she was soon walked to a rather dingy block of flats. The lift, however, did work and she was soon being taken to the ninth floor. Jada led the way into the flat which was surprisingly clean. “You two, get her sorted.” Carl instructed. Jada and Tereza grunted agreement. Kayla was released by him and he grasped her bum. “I’ll see you,” he grinned at Kayla, “when they’ve got you looking right.” Kayla smiled back, happy that she was clearly pleasing the man who was at the centre of her life. She was taken into a bedroom which was a little dusty but fitted out with generic furniture in reasonable condition. Jada went to the wardrobe and slid it back to reveal a range of clothes of the kind that Kayla knew she liked. “I bet she’s just hungry to get into some hot gear.” Jada said. “I bet if you were there dressed in, what shall we say …?” Tereza added, seeming to enjoy it. “A nice tight, rubber skirt. Black and shiny clinging to that bum of yours.” Jada chipped in as she lifted down a skirt just like that. “A good pair of long, shiny boots, touching the top of your thighs. Wicked heels you could really strut on.” Tereza said, clearly getting into the game; she pulled out a pair of long boots. “For a top – it has to be a bustier, make it glossy too; sliding her tits around under a cute cropped leather jacket.” Jada added enthusiastically. Kayla was aroused by what they were saying. She glanced down at her clothes, wondering if somehow the two women had not changed her clothes into what they were describing; disappointed when she found that was not the case. She realised that her pussy was hungry for it to be true. Into her mind came the image of her strutting on high heels, her bum swaying in the shiny rubber as she moved. Quickly she slipped off her biker-style leather jacket and was taking the shorter one in smooth leather that Jada passed her. Distantly she struggled to remember buying these clothes, but assumed they had to be hers. It seemed likely Carl had got her the bulk of this stuff, he was good to her, she knew. “Right, come on then. Let’s get you out of that stuff and into something a bit more exciting.” Jada said encouraging. At first Kayla was unresisting as Jada removed her long-sleeved teeshirt and plain bra beneath it. Soon she was being clipped into a wonderbra and Kayla did not move as Tereza stepped forward with the shiny black bustier. She wrapped it around Kayla. Her breasts rose in anticipation. Then Tereza eased up the thin zip, sealing Kayla’s breasts and midriff in the tight leather. Kayla simpered. The feeling of her nipples straining in the shiny vinyl was delightful. Jada was soon tugging at Kayla’s jeans and the panties beneath them. Kayla giggled, finding she was enjoying this, but now took the initiative. She went to the drawer in the dressing table and opened it to find packets of open crotch fishnet tights. She pulled on a pair and found herself stroking at her pussy, wondering why she had not shaved it but liking the way her legs were ensnared by the fishnet. “Give me that.” Kayla said but not harshly; for a moment her accent seemed strange, but she dismissed that thought quickly. Kayla took the skirt from Jada and stepped into it. She quickly pulled it into place, cupping her bum and barely stretching down her thighs. Kayla smoothed it down across the top of her thighs her fingers savouring the smooth feel. She watched how the light caught it as the rubber stretched taut between her legs and across her naked cunt. Tits and cunt, these seemed to be the right words for those parts of her body; those parts which were getting excited she knew. These were her kind of clothes and so it was no wonder she felt most comfortable in them. Jada held up the thigh-length boots, but tonight Kayla knew she wanted something different. However, that seemed to please her friend for some reason as she went to the cupboard and pulled out a pair of high-heeled ankle boots. Quickly she was pulling up the gold-coloured zips and rising on their heels and the platforms. She looked down at her legs from the shine of the tight skirt to the tips of her boots. For some reason she ached to be spreading these legs and having a cock between them. Kayla guessed it was a good thing she enjoyed her job. “Come.” Jada said and led Kayla to the dressing table and make-up mirror. Kayla did not have to be told to sit down. Jada smiled and pulled out some make-up from the drawers which she put down on the table. Kayla did not say anything but let Jada do what she wanted with her. Within minutes Kayla’s lips were glossy, her cheeks blushered, her eyelids painted, her hair back combed, long silver chains had replaced the studs in her ears. Then she painted Kayla’s nails shiny black. “Good, you’re ready.” Zyla said as she walked in. Kayla twisted round to see what she as carrying. She scooped up clothes left on the bed and placed them in a bin bag which she handed over to Tereza. “There’ll be no way back for this one.” Zyla said softly. The small woman came to stand by Kayla. “Good, that’s excellent, Kayla. Here’s your phone.” The woman handed it over and Kayla wondered where she had left it. “Thanks.” “Well, now you’re back, there’s no hanging around. You need to get out there, earning.” “Sure, Zyla, you’re right.” It made perfect sense to Kayla. She stood up and looked at herself in the mirror, admiring what was reflected. She licked her glossy lips and rocked her hips from side-to-side watching how the rubber stressed and released and rippled across her hips. She like how she could see her nipples straining in the shiny top. She felt excited, aroused and yet protected behind the gloss which clung to her body, giving her body a shiny, slippery, squealing second skin. As she felt the clothes becoming suited to her as they fitted to her body with every move, she felt herself becoming suited to them. She knew she was the type of woman they showed her as. She felt no qualms at being so blatantly sexy. This was her. Carl appeared at the bedroom door. Zyla turned to him and clicked her fingers. Kayla found herself looking but unable to do anything. “Carl – can you hear me?” “Yes.” Carl responded in a monotone. “Good. This is Kayla, she is one of your women; she has been for over a year. She came here from somewhere abroad and is happy to work for you because she worries she’ll be deported. You will treat her the same as the other women, you employ. This is her flat. She will soon have all the right papers; she’ll go and get piercings and a tattoo tomorrow and you’ll love them. Do you understand?” Carl nodded but also spoke. “This is Kayla, she’s worked for me for more than a year. She’s from somewhere foreign, Poland, Russia, Lithuania, somewhere like that. I look out for her as she’s worried she’ll get deported. I treat her well; I treat all my women well. This is her place. She’s not got all her stuff yet, but she’ll soon have it. Tomorrow, she’s going to get some serious tattoos and piercings, you know on the nose, the belly, that kind of thing.” To Kayla this sounded just the way Carl spoke and his words made those thoughts harden into beliefs and assumptions in her own mind. She was looking forward to what she would be doing tomorrow. “Good.” Zyla said. “Now, I’ll leave her with you, so that you can see how good she is.” The small woman turned to Kayla. “Remember everything you’ve ever seen or heard about sucking cock and do it like it’s something you’ve been wanting to do for so long; something you really love.” Kayla nodded, feeling the emotions that Zyla had outlined, rising up to fill her mind. Zyla smiled and in the next few moments she, Tereza and Jada had gone. “Fuck me, you’re one sexy bitch, Kayla.” Kayla simpered at the compliment and sauntered over to Carl. “Thank you. Now there’s something I want to do … need to do, to say thank you properly.” She pressed her hand against Carl’s trousers feeling how hard his cock was becoming. She liked that reaction because after all, she lived, she earned, by turning men on. Kayla felt that that had always been the way with her and was glad she could put it to use. With gentle nudges she guided Carl on to the sofa and then went down on her knees. He sat back and she unzipped his trousers. His hard cock rose out of them quickly. Dipping her head, Kayla licked the tip, loving the taste of his skin. A thrill ran through her as she took in herself dressed so sexily, abased in front of her boss, pleasing him the way she knew he loved. She slipped two fingers beneath her rubber skirt and played with her wet pussy, aware it needed shaving. Kayla took as much of Carl’s cock into her mouth as she could, her free hand toying with his balls as she now slid up and down the shaft and licked around the top, closing and opening her glossy lips. Carl said nothing just whined and grunted which Kayla took to be signs that she was going it right. As he began to shudder and then his cock throbbed, Kayla felt the warm jism squirting into her mouth and drank it down. That sense that she was a living receptacle for what her boss sprayed, pushed her further into the delight of being something to be used. This way she had no responsibilities, she simply had to be sexy; to live for sex. The thoughts triggered her own climax and Kayla knelt back quivering with pleasure, the tight shiny clothes that enclosed her seemed to trap it and amplify it. That meant she knew she had to keep dressing this way. “Fucking ‘a’, Kayla. Wow, you’re the business. You are.” Carl said rather incoherently. He stood up and zipped up his trousers. Kayla clambered to her feet and tugged down her latex skirt. She went into the bathroom to wipe her thighs and check her make-up. “Right. A freebie’s good, but we need to get you earning. Come on.” Carl ordered. Kayla complied without thought and in the next few minutes she was back on the street, walking up and down looking speculatively at passing cars. One slowed and wound down the window. Kayla sauntered over to it, feeling excited that this might be her first john of the night. He asked the price for a blow job and in moments Kayla was sliding her latex-coated bum into the passenger seat and they were powering away to some street that led to currently closed warehouses. Kayla was pleased that she had snared a man so quickly and was back into earning without hesitation. Anonymous 06/02/17 (Fri) 12:42:17 No.1621 Kayla did not know how long she had been with the man, but she was satisfied that she had pleased him and he had paid without complaint. She was pleased when he asked her name and said that he would see her again soon. As she resumed her place on the pavement, Kayla saw Zyla talking to a woman dressed in a parka and jeans. The small woman glanced around and now seeing Kayla, waved for her to come over. Kayla walked in her sassy way, wondering what kind of deal was being discussed here. Carl stood nearby smoking, but, as yet, not intervening. “This is Kayla.” Zyla said as she walked up. “You might recognise her.” The woman in the parka looked at Kayla intently then looked away and back as if uncertain at what she was seeing. Kayla smiled and tried to look alluring. She was not averse to going with a woman if it paid well. “This is Rebecca.” Zyla introduced but the woman said nothing. Zyla then turned from Kayla to speak to the woman herself. “So you came back? If you’d had sense you would have never returned.” “But we had a deal.” Rebecca said. “I kept my side of the bargain. I gave you a woman in place of me.” “Yes, yes you did. Yet you felt you had to check it had all worked out rather than doing the sensible thing and staying clear.” Rebecca nodded. “Well, here she is – Kayla; showing what you so easily could have been.” Zyla looked at Rebecca’s reaction then spoke again. “You knew her, she wasn’t some woman you just persuaded to come down here, was she?” “She was a friend of mine.” Rebecca confessed. “And you sold her out to me to save your own skin? Hardly a good friend. Well one good turn … bad turn, deserves another.” Zyla said as she stepped closer to Rebecca. “You have lovely black hair and a nice tan. Are you sure you’re not Spanish? Reia – habla Espanol – eh?” To Kayla, this Rebecca looked frozen as if she had fallen deep into Zyla’s eyes. “Yes, you will be Reia, newly arrived from Bilbao, but you’ve already met the woman of your dreams. You work the streets each night for your pimp, Carl Robertson, pleasuring men as they demand. Then, however, you go back to the bed of your lover, Kayla. It will save on me having to find another flat. You educated women, you’re too well fed and too clean to let go to waste. You were curious what being a prostitute was like, now you will know, for the rest of your lives.” Zyla said eagerly. “Now, Kayla come and help me with Reia, get her into your flat; get her ready to work.” Zyla gave Kayla, Rebecca’s hand. The woman looked dazed but steadily adoring and they proved unresisting as Kayla led her towards the flat. “Come on Carl, more work for you. A busy night heh?” Zyla grinned broadly, clearly delighted with all that she had achieved. THE END
  3. 'Coming to Flah' by Tang (iq-, culture, id, female race change) Coming to Flah by Tang Sarah Lockwood’s parents had divorced when she was thirteen. Hitting forty, her father, Jonathan, seemed to have tired of the whole family ‘project’ and had left her and her mother. There appeared to be no-one else involved and he had even moved to Norway which to Sarah seemed the dullest place possible. Sometimes she wished he had run off to ride around America on a Harley Davidson with a girlfriend half his age. Since the split, he had been formal and proper with gifts and even the appropriate financial support; she had even stayed at his apartment for one tedious holiday. The experience, however, had left Sarah very cautious about men and the way their brains worked. It had, though, naturally left her close to her mother, Anabelle. For some years it had been like the two of them against the world. As she progressed well in her studies, and knew she would soon be going away from home for university, Sarah had worried how her mother would cope with an entirely ‘empty nest’. Sarah had no desire for her to be sad, let alone lonely. Thus, she had begun to make hints about finding a replacement for Jonathan. She had signed Anabelle up for various websites and encouraged her to go speed-dating. It was something coming to fruition by the time Sarah had gone away to study. Whilst her mother was rather cagey about the men she communicated with and who she dated, Sarah was pleased that she had expanded Anabelle’s interest beyond the four walls. Sarah had remembered her mother talking about a man whose online name was something like ‘IrishRover’. Anabelle seemed to light up when it was him she had been emailing and then speaking to. Sarah had no prejudice against any man except one as uncommitted as her father. Perhaps a Irishman with a sweet smile and a mischievous way, something she realised as a stereotype, but one she could not shake, was what her mother needed. After all she was still young and fit enough to enjoy life. These days some women started families past their fortieth birthdays. Though immersed in her work and with only occasional visits home, Sarah soon became aware that things had gone further and there was regular mention of Dwyer Glansie. Sarah was not really clear what he did, but Anabelle had said something about construction and that he was often moving around and on the road. While a builder might not be the first choice of someone living in a Buckinghamshire suburb, Sarah was grateful that he was in work and appeared to support himself without need to be drawing on her mother’s money. As she had grown older herself, she had become more cautious about how middle-aged women could be exploited, an attitude fuelled by horror stories from university friends. When Anabelle had Skyped excitedly about how Dwyer had asked her to marry him and she had accepted, Sarah had been uncertain how to take it. She responded positively, genuinely pleased that her mother appeared so happy. However, inside her various alarms sounded. Not having seen her mother for some weeks, she was rather concerned at the visible changes: her long permed and dyed hair, the use of much more make-up than had ever been the case before, even the tight fitting top which accentuated her cleavage. Then Sarah realised she was beginning to reverse-parent: treating her mother as if she was her own daughter. She struggled to remind herself that Anabelle was a grown woman and had got through much of her life largely successfully, all without Sarah’s input. Sarah reined in her feelings once again a short while later when her mother revealed she was selling up the house and emigrating to Ireland to live with Dwyer. Sarah recognised that to protest at this step was to be selfish, to put her expectations of some inheritance over what was right for her mother; of course it would be natural for her to live with her new husband. Looking through the photos Anabelle emailed from her time over in Ireland, Sarah had wondered how many new relatives she would be gaining through this marriage. Further concerns came when she realised that they were not simply Irish, but Irish travellers, with a very different view on the world to her own. However, their caravans looked very clean and tidy and all the women and girls were smartly turned out in the latest fashions and hairdos even if they had far more fake tan and make-up than anyone Sarah knew. When her mother referred to her prospective Irish step-sisters and Dwyer as her step-father, Sarah had felt an unease first of an immediate reaction then of a different kind as she worried that she was falling into a prejudiced response that, as a broad-minded student, she felt was inappropriate for her to hold. Sarah sought positives, thinking how attractive the step-sisters appeared and that almost everyone was grinning, apparently very happy in the photos. In time the wedding invitation arrived along with plane tickets and a booking for a charming hotel in rural Ireland. Now Sarah felt she could not refuse to go. When Alannah, the eldest of her step-sisters-to-be, the same age as Sarah but already married, sent such a nice email talking about looking forward to Sarah’s visit, she felt compelled to respond with a degree of warmth. She did baulk, however, at Alannah’s closing wish that Sarah might find the opportunity, while visiting, to pick up an Irish traveller husband of her own and settle in the country. **** Anonymous 02/03/17 (Fri) 00:40:31 No.1807 While she had seen them on television, nothing had prepared Sarah for the nature or the scale of her mother’s wedding. She had had to fight hard in refusing to be one of the bridesmaids once she had seen the vast turquoise dresses and the elaborate hairstyles they were expected to sport. Two days before, she had gone for what turned out to be a very raucous meal at a pub to be introduced to all of her new family who called her mother ‘Analetta’ and seemed to alter her own name to ‘Sara’, though the strength of their accents made it hard for her to be sure. Sarah had tried to get into the spirit of the thing, dressed in her best party clothes, but she was over-shadowed beside what her range of step-sisters turned out in, each looking ready to perform a pole dance. Once they had got on the floor, Sarah had shouted her farewells to her mother and retreated to the hotel. She thought she had seen a look from the proprietress when she had checked in; presumably the name of who had paid triggered such a response. Sarah had gone out of her way to say she was studying at university. This time on her return she even lied about being a researcher for a television company about making a documentary about traveller weddings. This seemed to please the man now at reception and he started going on about how much money a television crew could bring to this place and plying her with business cards. At the ceremony itself, Sarah had been more than happy to sit at the back of the church mixed in with people of all kinds who seemed to be friends of the Glansie family. She found herself next to two women who ran a beauty salon which had apparently had a hand in readying all the women in the main part of the event. Sarah wondered how she might have turned out if she had yielded from the pressure from Alannah and Danielle and gone for their processing. Now the wedding was over and the meal eaten. The party had relocated to a village hall that appeared to have come from a 1970s situation comedy. All the ladies had disappeared only to come back with their turquoise creations replaced by much sexier, though admittedly more practical outfits. Even her mother was now in a form fitting shiny black dress with lace on the shoulders and sleeves. Her hair had been released to cascade down her back and her make-up augmented. Sarah had sat in her plain floral dress and her ankle boots, feeling as if she had fallen to Earth and had failed to properly match with the appearance of the Earthlings. She was also feeling utterly detached from her mother. She guessed, however, this was simply the reverse-parenting raising its head again. She imagined what she felt now was no different to how her mother would have felt if she was the new bride or indeed what Sarah herself might feel when she saw a daughter of hers marry; not that she had much intention of having children for a long time. Sarah told herself to be mature about this stuff. She went to get a pint of Guinness and with the barman’s bemused look, found herself lying that it was for her step-father. As she supped her stout, Sarah watched her mother dancing with her new husband, again with mixed emotions. Anabelle/Analetta certainly seemed happy and accepted into this traveller community. However, Sarah wondered whether after this evening she would see much of her mother assuming she could even locate her as they moved from place to place. “Your Ma looks like a real gypsy, doesn’t she?” It was Dwyer’s mother who Sarah remembered was called Brianna. Sarah had not noticed her approach and hope that signalled that the beer was finally kicking in. “I suppose so.” Certainly her outrageous outfit was more in keeping with what a gypsy woman would wear than a housewife from Buckinghamshire. “No, look closely, see. See she looks a traveller; she looks like she’s always been a traveller woman. She’s always been a gypsy.” Brianna said softly but Sarah found she could hear her clearly despite the music and the chatter. Sarah was going to counter what Brianna said, but felt it would be rude to challenge the old woman. “Her name’s Analetta.” Sarah guessed she had to concede what her mother seemed now happy for people to call her. In fact she struggled to remember what she had been known as before. “Yes, Analetta.” Brianna smiled. “Yes, Analetta’s always been her name, because she’s always been a traveller.” Sarah guessed that Brianna meant at heart her mother had wanted this kind of life never fixed in one place, with a strong man who told her what to do. “Yes, you could say that.” “You agree, she’s always been a traveller?” “Yes, I agree, she’s always been a traveller.” Sarah gave in the battle, it did not seem worth it to rile this woman who was harmless. “If that’s a case, then you must have traveller blood flowing through you. I guess that if you’re mother has always been a traveller, then so have you.” Sarah felt hot all over her body, she flushed and tried to concentrate. She was aware that something was changing, something that Brianna was doing to her. How could that be possible? She found quickly that whatever the old woman said appeared to be the utter truth, things that she could not contest. “You’ve always been a traveller. Your name is not Sarah, it’s Sorcha.” Sarah tried to speak to challenge Brianna’s claim, but she found she could not. What was stopping her tongue? Was it that or was it in fact that Brianna was telling the truth? “Sorcha, you’ve always been a traveller, haven’t you?” Dimly Sarah found herself nodding. Her body thrummed as she responded to the name of Sorcha and then felt as if some tension had been released, something wrong had been corrected. “Sorcha, you’ve always been a traveller, an Irish traveller, haven’t you? Just tell me, just tell me once.” “Yes, I’ve always been a traveller.” With that, Sarah felt a jolt as if she had been suddenly thrust into a new world. However, as she looked around her nothing appeared to be different. Inside her things were altering. Memories were fleeing from her mind. Her college studies, the house she had lived in, the memories of her father quickly went. She saw herself instead living in caravans, leaving school at thirteen; working hard to clean and cook rather than living a student life. Then she saw herself as a young woman with long dark hair and full breasts, wearing the tightest sexiest clothes, her skin coated in fake tan and her make up as heavy tonight. Sarah struggled to cling on to the memories, but increasingly they seemed wrong. If her mother was a traveller, a gypsy, then of course she would be one too, there was no way she could deny it. Sorcha blinked, feeling rather light-headed. She glanced across the room at her mother, Analetta with her step-father. She then caught sight of herself reflected in the windows of the hall. Her long black hair cascaded down the side of her face. Her eyes were ringed with liner, her eyelids a pink shade, her lips another paler version. Her skin glowed dark brown with the fake tan that covered it. She looked down at herself in her party clothes. Her long painted nails emerged from the fingerless leather gloves. She wore a tight bra top of black latex detailed by broad scarlet stripes; her short skirt matched, with the red panels down the side of her thighs. Her shoes were patent red, the shade matching that above. They had a long heel and a thick platform that Sorcha knew she loved. Sorcha heard voices calling from the dance floor and saw her step-sisters, dressed similarly, doing that sensual snaking dance that was so popular at traveller gatherings like this. Sorcha stood up and strode across them. In moments she was running her hands over her slippery tight clothes, thrusting out her breasts and twerking her bum in the way she loved. Around her, her sisters, a range of ages performed likewise. As she turned and twisted, feeling aroused by the dance she cast her eye over her shoulder to catch sight of the young men lined up by the bar. She saw Niall standing there. She slowed her moves waiting for him to look her way. As his gaze fell upon her, looking as if he had just seen her for the first time, Sorcha began to dance more actively. She lowered her eyes as if admiring the top of her own breasts, sliding her hands slowly over the shine of her bra top and then leaving one lingering on the taut latex of her miniskirt. She scissored her legs as if impatient. She could not remember when she had first become attracted to Niall but she knew there was something about him that she liked. She now looked up, hoping she had sent a clear message to him and that he felt likewise. She was sure how she was dressed and made-up tonight would be making him hard as it was. As Sorcha danced something nagged at the back of her mind. Strangely she felt that despite enjoying herself, she had to get out of this room, in fact to get out of these clothes. Something about them felt peculiar, not quite right. She wondered if she had been over doing it. “You’s alright?” Sorcha’s eldest step-sister, Alannah asked. Alannah wore black PU shorts detailed with studs and slender chains hanging across the front. Her over-the-knee boots were similar, though with buckles down the leg. She wore a sequined bandeau which accentuated her full breasts. Sorcha realised she could easily wear such an outfit, in fact would enjoy doing so. Her step-sister’s hair was like her own and their make-up complemented. For a moment, however, Sorcha wondered if that was somehow deliberate, to make it seem that how she appeared herself, fitted in perfectly here. “Just needs some air.” Sorcha replied, for some reason surprised at her broad Irish accent. Alannah nodded and Sorcha looked around her, seeking the door. As she walked from the room she saw Brianna talking to a young man and stepping on she saw it was Niall. Sorcha wondered with a grin what the old woman was cooking up. If it involved Niall, she told herself, she was not averse. As she stepped into the cool evening air feeling it on the extensive areas of her skin that were uncovered, Sorcha wondered what she liked about Niall. In the end she felt that there was nothing that she could identify specifically, it was just as if suddenly she had found that she fancied him. From inside the hall, the sound of the music was muted. Sorcha felt an urge to go back in and continue dancing, but the unsettled feeling she had had in there kept stopping her. She wondered why she should feel this way. She looked her best and she was here enjoying herself at a happy day for her mother. Sorcha looked at the back of her hands covered in the tight leather. In part she loved these gloves, they made her feel really sexy and they were of a style she liked. However, for some reason it was as if they brand new, not just that day, but within the last few moments and more than that, even though she knew she liked them, she found it difficult to imagine herself ever trying them on let alone buying them. Sorcha’s attention was snatched back by the sound of the door opening behind her. Before she could look round, she was lifted off her feet and in moments, she understood that she had been ‘grabbed’. Somehow she knew it was Niall who had finally found the courage to do what young traveller men did, to carry her off physically for a snog behind some building so as to declare his interest in her. Sorcha realised as she was carried hurriedly into the darkness that this was what she had been anticipating all night. In fact her body’s excitement told her that she welcomed it. Any thoughts of it being inappropriate or not the kind of approach she expected from a man were quickly swept from her. It was as if she had forgotten lessons she had been taught and for a moment she wondered if she would things differently if she had not left school so early. Niall lowered her to the ground quite gently. Sorcha’s back was pressed against the wall but her latex clothes protected her. Her heart was thumping and the tight rubber creaked and squealed as she breathed in and out quickly. She scissored her legs feeling an anticipation, a heat growing between them. Traveller women remained virgins until their weddings, but with the sexy dancing that they did, it was not surprising that both they and the men that attracted them went as far as they could without penetration. Niall was standing looking at Sorcha in the weak illumination from streetlights. Again, though she knew they had known each other for many years, she felt as if he was looking at her as someone new. Maybe his thick skull had only now woken up to her charms. With that thought, Sorcha felt a real urge to show him what she could offer. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in tight, pressing her lips against his and then forcing into his mouth with her tongue. He tasted of beer and the meal from earlier, but what she relished above all was that he smelt and tasted of man. A man washed and scrubbed up to be his best, but still a man, a traveller man and one she knew she was liking. Niall pulled her in close, one hand cupping her bum, the other grasping her breasts. She loved the feel of the pressure on them and her arousal increased that. Sorcha reached down to rub against the front of Niall’s trousers and he jerked back, grunting as she had run her hand over his erection. Sorcha guessed at their age he would be like a firework liable to explode. Though she knew it would be wrong, she was keen to feel him inside her. She wondered if she could strike a deal. “If you’ll eat me out, I’ll suck you. Deal?” Sorcha whispered in his ear. Niall mumbled something but got down on his knees which Sorcha took as signalling his willingness. She hitched up her short skirt and shuddered pleasurably as she felt the warmth of his head between her thighs. She knew she was so wet and hot and her clit was awake. Having Niall pressing his tongue against her gee, she wondered why it just felt so good and when had she started shaving down there? Maybe she had had this planned all along. Whatever the path had been to get here, she was simply enjoying it. Then she jerked; her hips thrusting her fanny into his face. The names: gee, fanny, in some ways seemed so right but also unfamiliar to her mind. Why was she worrying? Niall’s tongue was there and there and there and now it blasted her body with a thrill, she shrieked and stopped her mouth with her hand, thrumming, throbbing, shaking against him. He was quickly up and holding her as her knees weakened. Sorcha let herself be lowered to the ground and beneath her bare knees found Niall’s jacket. She imagined the dirt on it would seem a small price to him for what he was going to receive. She also knew that next time she would pick her longest boots for this. His bod was out and she closed her lips around the head, widening them and slipping it inside. For some reason Sorcha felt there was something so good in servicing him this way, on her knees, slurping at his hard flesh. As she had suspected, it did not take long before he was firing his jip into her. The flavour was strong and the consistency sticky, but she swallowed down, somehow liking all that she was doing. Niall lifted her up and grinned as if suddenly bolloxed with the drink, but Sorcha knew it was something else which had had that effect and recognised that it pleased her. “Come on, let’s get a drink.” Niall proposed but led Sorcha by the hand away from the hall. Sorcha came on, tugging her latex skirt back down, loving how it clung and stretched. The fact that they were off to a pub to be together rather than going back to the wedding reception pleased her. She felt she had been right about Niall and that there was a good future with him; a sexy one at that. **** Anonymous 02/03/17 (Fri) 00:40:50 No.1808 Sarah awoke, not clear how she had got to bed. There was a fresh, rather plastic smell but she guessed that was something to be expected in a hotel. From outside she could hear the noise of children running around close by her window. Was she on the ground floor? As she sat up, her curiosity was answered. It was apparent that she had not made it back to the hotel, but instead was in one of the travellers’ caravans. From the décor it was clear it was inhabited by young women and distantly Sarah recalled something about there being a spare bed in the caravan Alannah had shared with her sisters, now she was married and living with Ciaran. Sarah felt hungry and wondered if there was food in here. However, she guessed that first she needed to get dressed. She looked around the bed but could see nothing bar a pair of high-heeled shoes that she guessed had been left by one of the others. She found it difficult to think of them as her step-sisters. She went to the wardrobe and realised that she should not be surprised to find it was full of the kind of clothes the traveller women wore. The bras were lacy black and the panties were thongs. Not the kind of thing she would have chosen and she felt self-conscious about even borrowing another woman’s underwear. However, she was conscious that unless she was dressed there was no way she could get out of here and back to her hotel room where her own clothes were. As Sarah slipped into the thong she realised just how dark her skin tone was. She could see that she had been coated with the fake tan that seemed essential to all traveller women and girls. Had someone sprayed this on her last night? She was annoyed that they had, but guessed there was some kind of remover she could buy. She would leave it for now, because, as yesterday she was very conscious of not doing anything that offended her hosts, especially now that she seemed to be the heart of their camp. As she clipped the bra closed, she was concerned that it was too large for her. However, she was not keen to have nipples prominent in what she wore especially as so many of the tops looked like they would be tight fitting. One of them, with a matching skirt was made of black and red latex and Sarah had trouble envisaging ever wearing anything like that. The bra proved to fit her perfectly. Eventually she settled for a black and white cheetah print top with long sleeves. It clung to her tightly. She put on the biker-style leather jacket on top to conceal herself a little more. All the skirts in the wardrobe were short and all the leggings were shiny. She ended up in a black wet-look pair that again fitted very well even if they were a style she would have never worn back home. She dreaded what her friends would think. Many of the boots were over-the-knee; one pair had to be thigh-length and all the shoes were high-heeled. She settled on a pair of kitten-heeled black patent knee-length boots detailed with silver studs and a buckle at the ankle. Sarah imagined that she probably did not look too different to many of the young women around the site. She guessed that might be too much of a bad thing. She needed to find her mother or at least Alannah. Perhaps even Brianna could help her find where her clothes let alone her purse, had got to. There was a small shiny black handbag sitting on the table at the other end of the room. She looked through it feeling a little self-conscious; it held the usual things a young woman would have, though with far more make-up than she would have considered carrying. She found a new Irish passport in the name of Sorcha Glansie. She knew Glansie was her mother’s new surname; her husband’s name, so she guessed this belonged to one of his daughters, perhaps a niece. She was seventeen, two years younger than Sarah, but with the same birthday. Sarah tried to remember if they had been introduced. However, looking at her photo showing a woman with big black hair and a fake tan, she imagined that they could have been but she would never have distinguished her from the scores of other young women cavorting on the dance floor. Gazing out through the window, she could see the life of the site around her. For some reason it looked very familiar, but she guessed it was because it resembled many others she had seen on television. Since her mother had declared that she was going to marry Dwyer, and Sarah had realised what he was, she had made some effort to watch all the documentaries on about the traveller lifestyle. She could see the children she had heard earlier and some women, but none of them she recognised. She wondered if this was simply because it was now the light of day and they were out of their party clothes. Seeing herself reflected in the glass, Sarah tidied her hair, pulling it over her shoulder and putting it into a fishtail plait. It looked darker than usual and thicker too and she wondered what the traveller women might have put into it, presumably at the same time they had gifted her with her fake tan. Feeling better prepared, Sarah stepped from the caravan. She looked around her and wondered which of the many caravans and camper vans would hold her mother. “Hey Sorcha!” One of the women she had seen from inside called. Sarah looked at her, realising that at a distance the traveller woman had made a mistake and had imagined that she was this Sorcha. Sarah guessed it was not surprising given that she had come from that specific caravan, was dressed in what might have been Sorcha’s clothes and had the fake tan that she was no doubt also covered with. “Hey, there.” Sarah responded though she found she knew that the woman was Erin. “Good night, last night.” The second woman who Sarah now remembered to be Aisling, added. “Sure,” Sarah responded, her voice sounding peculiar to her ears. “Sure was.” Sarah decided to head away from them not wanting to be asked too many questions; she worried what might happen if they found out she was not this Sorcha. It was not far until she recognised the caravan that belonged to Dwyer. She heard voices coming from inside it. She tapped on the door and stepped inside. Her mother and husband were there as was Brianna and Danielle, Dwyer’s second daughter. They were eating breakfast. “Hello, love.” Sarah’s mother said. “Hello.” Sarah guessed she was going to have to get used to the way her mother appeared now, with the long permed tresses of dark hair and the fake tan on her skin; her face heavily made up. Annabelle, or she guessed she should think of her by her assumed name, Analetta, looked as if she fitted right in. The sleeveless fuchsia top with lace detailing which clung to her breasts, which Sarah guessed had been augmented by a push-up bra; the broad diamante belt and the short plum tube skirt and the black over-the-knee boots would have suited a woman twenty years younger than her. However, Analetta seemed unashamed in wearing them, clearly proud of her body and Sarah imagined she should be pleased to see her mother happy and not left a neurotic divorcee. Danielle offered her some tea and toast and Sarah accepted, realising how hungry she felt. She sat down opposite her mother. Sarah felt uneasy at how Brianna looked to be running her eyes over her. However, when she glanced at her again, Brianna responded with a warm smile, that seemed to signal contentment. Sarah guessed that coming out dressed like this probably helped reduce any tensions around her being the interloper. “I am surprised to see you up so early.” Sarah said to Analetta and Dwyer. “Why’s that? It’s late enough.” “But it was your wedding yesterday.” Both her mother and step-father laughed. “Well, it was mine in the respect I paid for it.” Dwyer chuckled. “We never had anything that fancy in our day, almost twenty-one years ago.” Sarah was a bit confused wondering if this was some kind of joke. “I didn’t see you drinking, did you have that much?” Brianna asked. “Could you forget: it was your sister’s wedding, Alannah. Remember your big sister?” “Step-sister.” Sarah murmured. Dwyer laughed. “So who was your daddy then? Analetta, you didn’t tell me that you sneaked off and got our Sorcha by another man.” “Dwyer, you know I am loyal to you, through and through. With the size of your bod, do you think I could be satisfied with anyone else?” Analetta joked. Sarah somehow knew that ‘bod’ was slang for Dwyer’s penis and rather than cackle at her mother’s comments she felt embarrassed at her parents behaving like teenagers. Was Dwyer her father? That seemed to be what Analetta was claiming and that indeed made Alannah her sister. They must be close in age and if Sarah was born nineteen years ago, then did that mean Alannah had been conceived out of wedlock? That did not seem to fit with the traveller pattern. Was it Alannah who was nineteen and she, Sarah who was seventeen? Somewhere in her mind there were memories of her doing ‘A’ levels and going to university, she would be too young for that. Then again, how long was it since she had been at school? Now she struggled to remember going there beyond thirteen. Sarah realised her mind had wandered. Could she have got so drunk the night before that she had forgotten that she had been at her sister’s wedding, even that she was not Dwyer’s daughter? Had she knocked her head? It all felt so strange. As she reflected on it, it seemed daft to envisage a different life. Why would her parents be lying to her? Dwyer had made some light jokes, but nothing of the scale she was thinking of. “Here, you haven’t seen the photos have you? Niall took these and uploaded them.” Analetta said turning a tablet round to Sarah. ‘Niall’ – the name jarred Sarah a little, but she was not certain why. She concentrated on the pictures now in front of her. They indeed showed Alannah in the wedding dress and there was Sarah close behind in the same kind of outfit in the turquoise shade, and her sisters and nieces around her. Why did she remember refusing to wear the dress and why did she think of these women as Dwyer’s relatives and not her own? She scrolled through the images. The ones in the hall did seem familiar until she came of the one that looked like her; not the way she thought of herself, but how she appeared now: fake tanned and with long black hair. She had her arm around Alannah now in her sequined bandeau, the tight PU shorts and long boots, hardly looking the blushing bride. Sarah stood between her and Danielle, her younger sister. Did she mean Alannah’s younger sister or her own? Was there a difference? Taking in the scene, Sarah found it difficult to accept that it was her in the middle especially dressed in that black and red latex outfit and those high shoes. Yet, were they not what she had found around her when she woke up? Could she have dressed like that? Sarah wondered what to do. It seemed impossible that everyone here believed this story if it was wrong. Was it her who had made a mistake? Had she dreamt of being this British university student when all along she had been Sorcha the traveller? “You’re not looking too good, my love.” Analetta said. “I think she just needs a bit of a rest; burning the candle at both ends last night.” Brianna observed. “Come I’ll get you back to the girls’ caravan, you probably just need a bit of a rest.” Sarah was not certain how to respond and simply yielded to Brianna taking charge. Soon she was walking back to the caravan where she had awoken, very conscious of the tight clothes she wore and the click of her heels on the ground. Soon they were in the caravan but rather than direct her to the bed Brianna sat her on a banquette at the table and made some tea. She came with the drinks to sit at the table. “What is happening? You’re part of this aren’t you? I spoke to you last night and then … then I think something changed.” It was vague in her memories and hard to make out what had happened from the story laid out by the photos she had just seen. “You are a tough one.” Brianna said giving a tight smile. “Usually I change the parent’s reality and that of the children follows, just like that. I thought, one daughter, easy to shift, even when you wouldn’t get involved, wear the dress, get the tan.” “Change the reality?” Sarah asked thinking she had misheard. “This is Ireland, we’re travellers; gypsies, if you like. You not heard of gypsy magic?” Sarah guessed she had, but like all such fantastical things she had dismissed them as having no place in her rational, university study world. “Why? Why me?” “Your mother, she’s a good woman; good for my son and for his daughters. For her I want her to fit in, to be happy. If she is happy then my son is happy; my granddaughters are happy. That is it, very simply.” “So you used magic to make her not simply marry a traveller, but become a traveller woman?” “Of course. Do you think her hair would be that long or her with that size of her diddies? It didn’t take much with her.” “Then why not just her, why me as well?” “That’s easy. Even with you away in England, if you’re calling up or coming over, tutting about what she’s doing, what she’s wearing, how she’s living, then all the time I’ve got something snagging at this reality, at best unsettling her, making her less happy; at worst causing an all-out reversion and that’s a failure for me.” “So you simply put me into this life?” “For sure. A beautiful traveller girl; gained a couple of years back and with a nice boy lined up for you. What more would you want?” Sarah made a scoffing sound. However, her head was spinning with what Brianna was saying. Part of her was refusing to accept it was real, part of her afraid that it was. “So what about my old life, my place at university, my room, my things?” “That’s all gone, erased. Someone else is in your place. You don’t need any of that Sorcha.” “I’m not Sorcha.” “Who says?” Brianna held up the passport for Sorcha Glansie. “It’s easy to fake something like that.” “Not in this case, that’s your reality. Sorcha Glansie, aged seventeen, Irish traveller, end of story.” “It can’t be, I am not her.” “Aren’t you? Who do you look like? Here with your tan, with your clothes just like your sisters, long hair, sexy body and speaking like an Irishwoman, not some girly from England called Sarah. You are Sorcha. Look and see. Look and see what is true. This is the truth.” Brianna held up a mirror and Sarah looked at her reflection with the long dark hair, the tanned skin and the make-up; dressed in the tight top, flaunting her full breasts. Seeing that woman she would think her an Irish traveller. As she made that concession, she felt as if something was slipping from her. She put her head down to the table, fighting to hold on to whatever it was; something so important in her mind. She felt exasperated, twisting as if she could chase after it and catch it. Tired she let go and breathed deeply. “Sorcha, Sorcha, you all right?” Sorcha looked up at her grandmother. “Feeling a bit, you know …” “It was late last night, why don’t you take a kip?” “Sure.” Sorcha stood up from the banquette and Brianna helped her on to her bed. Sorcha lay there as her grandmother removed her boots. She slid her legs in their shiny leggings over the counterpane, wondering why she felt so horny, but sleep demanded her attention. **** Anonymous 02/03/17 (Fri) 00:41:09 No.1809 Sorcha woke up to the sound of knocking. She sat up on the bed and checked her appearance in the mirror. “I’ll be there.” She called in her broad Irish accent. Then she saw that Brianna was sitting at the table reading a magazine. She dimly recalled feeling ill and being brought back by her grandmother. “It’s Niall, I’ll tell him.” Brianna said as she stood and went out the door, closing it behind her. Now Sorcha jumped up. Quickly she replaced her top with a sleeveless black one with vertical narrow PU stripes. She pulled out a pair of over-the-knee boots and zipped them up. She drew a brush through her hair and then worked on the pale pink on her lips and the eyeliner. Pausing to look in the mirror one more time, she felt please and went to the door. Brianna was there and it was she who invited him in, guiding Niall and Sorcha to the table while she took her magazine to chair further up the caravan. Sorcha recognised that she was going to be chaperoned. “I heard you’s feeling poorly, Sorcha.” She shook her head. “Better for seeing you though.” The response pleased the young man. “I’ve got something for you.” Niall pulled a small jewellery case from his pocket and flicked it open to show a gold necklace with the name ‘Sorcha’ in a cursive script. “Do you like it?” Sorcha smiled and planted a quick kiss on his lips, keen to feel more of what they had had last night. “I do, Niall. I like it, I like you and I like what we did last night.” Sorcha found herself bubbling out. Perhaps it was early days, but Sorcha suddenly could see herself with Niall as her man and knew it was something she wanted in so many ways. “That’s good. Let’s put it on.” Sorcha bent her head and lifted up her mass of dark hair. In moments the necklace was around her neck and closed. She felt it with her fingers, pleased that she wore it. “So, are you busy tonight? Would you like a drink?” Sorcha found herself shooting a glance at Brianna but she simply smiled. “Sure. Take me somewhere nice.” “I’ll do that.” **** As Sorcha stepped through the door of the church she paused for a moment to let her bridesmaids tend to the huge circular skirt of her wedding dress. She glanced over at her father walking beside her looking severe, but clearly proud and Sorcha guessed, holding back tears not wanting to reveal how affected he was by the event. The church was full with people from babies to the elderly, very many of them travellers, turned out in over-the-top styles, especially the women. Behind her in fluffed out cerise dresses were her sisters making an entourage. Now she was ready and as the music struck up and Sorcha began the walk towards the altar where her fiancée Niall stood, casting almost shy glances back up the aisle. Sorcha knew her life was sealed, living here in the heart of a traveller community; already pregnant with the traveller child of the man, who in the next few minutes would become her husband. Sorcha knew she was one sexy woman and she had ached to have Niall’s cock inside her. She was sure she would get ample opportunity tonight, at least after she had had a good dance. THE END  
  4. A Day At The Park by Merlin & Bobby (AP, AR, Culture Change) 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 the discomfort of the park's patrons by shifting to a southerly direction, no longer bringing any relief from the cooling waters of Lake Erie. To put it another way, it was just plain hot, and Anabel Contreras couldn't take it much longer. She had been waiting twenty minutes already, and the line had barely moved twenty feet. She pulled out some sunscreen from her fanny pack and started to rub it on her arms, face and neck. She had used almost half a bottle today; she was perspiring so much that as soon as she put some on it would start running off of her body again. As she was rubbing it on the back of her neck she was suddenly bumped from behind and almost knocked her to the ground, dropping the bottle of sunscreen. "Hey, watch it!" shouted Anabel angrily. "What are you doing?" She picked up the bottle and turned around to see a tall blonde girl smiling at her. "Sorry, twerp, but me and my friend here have priority passes, so we get to cut in line, especially in front of little kids." The girl laughed mockingly at Anabel. She was old, maybe 20 or so, thought Anabel. She looked like a college student. She was wearing a blue low cut tank top that showed more than a hint of her impressive cleavage, and tight red shorts that hugged the generous curves of her lower body. Her long blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail that hung almost down to her waist. Behind her stood a pretty African-American girl, who was smirking as the blonde girl was laughing at Anabel. She was dressed similarly, although her top was red and she wore snug orange shorts. Her hair was pulled back in a small bun. "What do you mean priority passes? There's no such thing!" Anabel said defiantly. She had waited in line too long to let some stupid big girls cut in front of her. "Hey, Tamika, the shrimp seems a little upset," said the blonde girl to her friend as she motioned toward Anabel with her thumb. "I don't know about you, but I'm scared! What'll we do?" She held her hand up to her mouth with wide-eyed mock fear, while Tamika laughed. "I don't think we have to worry about her, Alison," said Tamika. "Let's go." The two started to push past Anabel, who tried to block them, but they were too big for her and easily brushed her aside. "Stop it! You can't do that!" Anabel shouted but they ignored her and just kept going, oblivious to the angry comments from other people in line. "I don't believe that, won't anybody stop them? That's not fair," Anabel said to herself. "Just 'cause they're big doesn't mean they should get to push everyone around." "I agree," said a voice behind Anabel. She spun around, startled, to see a short stocky bald man smoking a cigar behind her. "Who are you?" Anabel said. She could have sworn he wasn't there a second ago. "I'm Mr. Smith, and I take it you're Anabel," said the man extending his hand. Anabel shook it slowly and asked, "How did you know my name?" She coughed and waved her other hand in front of her face to clear the smoke away. "I'm sorry, excuse my rudeness, that's a nasty habit of mine," said Mr. Smith. He pulled the Macanudo out of his mouth and it seemed to disappear instantaneously. "It's my job to know who my clients are," he said with a smile. "I'm in the business of settling disputes, righting wrongs, solving problems, all that kind of thing. You could call me a fixer." "How do you know I have a problem?" asked Anabel. "Let's just say that I know, OK? It's such a long story I really don't think you'd be interested. The important thing right now is that we take care of Alison and Tamika, right?" Anabel was trying to sort all this out in her mind. How did this odd little man just show up out of nowhere, and how did he make that cigar disappear? It was almost like…no it couldn't be that; there was no such thing as magic. Even though Anabel was only eleven years old, she knew that much. She looked around to see if anyone nearby was watching or listening in on their conversation but nobody else seemed to be paying attention to what was going on. "No one here knows we're talking right now," Mr. Smith said in a bored voice as he rolled his eyes. "And yes, I'm a practitioner of magic. Now that we've got all the boring details out of the way, can't we just get to the good stuff?" Mr. Smith suppressed a yawn as he waited for Anabel's answer. "Well, why do you want to help me?" she asked suspiciously. "Because I'd like to teach those girls a lesson as much as you. People have enough problems without having to deal with rude, thoughtless characters such as these two. I've been watching them for some time, and they used to be very nice young ladies, but their arrogance has increased in direct proportion to their, shall we say, endowments." "Huh?" said Anabel, with a puzzled expression. "They've gotten nastier as they've gotten older, OK? I'm sorry, I tend to enjoy hearing myself talk sometimes." "Oh. Well, what does all this have to do with me?" "You, my dear, are the catalyst in all this," Mr. Smith said, smiling. "The catawhat?" "See? There I go again," he shook his head. "You're the one who can make this all happen. You see, I can't do anything myself, my powers have to be directed through a mortal's wishes. Believe me, if it were up to me, those two would have had their attitudes adjusted years ago. But now this is a golden opportunity for both of us to give them what they deserve. What do you think?" "What would you do?" "Well, I have something in mind, if you'd agree to it," Mr. Smith said with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "I was thinking that every time Tamika or Alison do or say anything nasty, they get a little "lesson". That way they're in control of their own fates. If they're considerate of others, they won't have any problem, but if they get out of line, they'll have to suffer the consequences." Anabel thought for a moment then said, "Well, I don't know if I really want to hurt them or anything, Mr. Smith. They were pretty mean and stuff, but I couldn't do anything really bad to them." "Of course, Anabel. I wouldn't dream of hurting them either, it would just be a way to let them experience a little role reversal, that's all. If they learn how to act like decent members of society, they'll be fine." Anabel thought again for a while then said, "I think it would do them some good if they were in my place for a while." "Exactly what I was thinking, Anabel. I like your style," Mr. Smith said with a smile. "Well, shall we get started?" As Anabel was thinking of what she could wish for that would act as justice, she heard Tamika shove an elderly woman out of the way. "Out of the way you old bag!" snarled Tamika. Just then, a wicked smile came across Anabel's face. "Alright Mr. Smith, I wish I could control a person's age in any capacity I choose". Mr. Smith nodded and smiled, "So it is wished, so it shall be done!" he waved his hand and glowed as well as Anabel and then stared intensly at Anabel. "It has been done Anabel, now one warning….be careful with this new found power, remember Midas and what happened to him!" And with that, Mr. Smith vansihed in a cloud of smoke, though no one but Anabel seemed to notice. After she stood motionless in retrospect as to what had happened, and who was this Midas guy he was warning her of? She finally thought to herself that she had better test this new found "gift" out before she used it to fix Tamika and Alison's situation. She then saw the elderly woman sitting on the park bench softly sobbing having been pushed by Tamika. Anabel looked at her and said quietly under her breath, "I wish that the old woman sitting over there was 21 years old again." The elderly woman seemed to glow as Anabel watched the transformation with awe. First, her white hair seemed to be regaining some of its original color, which looked to be a shade of red. She could see that the turkey waddles on her arms were firming up some as well. As she continued to glow, it was like a magical iron was wiping away the tired wrinkles and lines that covered her face after years of life and living. Little did Anabel know was that the old woman had been 80 years of age, but now she had regressed back to 60 and the regression was speeding up. The years seem to fall off of her like so much dust that was being wiped away. At 50 years of age, Anabel could see that her hair was originally red as it seemed to begin to regain some of its luster, and the wrinkles were turning into deep lines and lessoning with each passing moment. At 40 years of age, she stopped sobbing and looked up, somewhat confused. She stood up with her cane in hand, and she looked silly leaning on the cane now that she was only 35 years of age, most of the wrinkles were now gone and her hair had regained all of its luster with only a few strands of gray still visable. Thats when she noticed her hands, they had firmed up as well, and she seemed mesmorized by how they looked. Even though the dress she was wearing was like a sack, Anabel could see that her large breasts was firming up and rising on her body. The support hose could not hide the fact that her legs were firming up as well and regaining their shape. The woman was now in her late twenties and had turned into a real beauty, her hair bright red and a few freckles now appeared on the bridge of her nose. Her breasts were now "perky" and full, with the supple curves of a young woman now apperant. The young woman straightened up and tossed aside the cane, not having looked or felt this good since World War II, she began jumping up and down with delight screaming, "I'm young again! I'm young again!" the young woman ran into the park skipping with delight loking a bit silly in the support hose and large dress. As she dissapeared, Anabel whistled to herself, "Wow, this power really works!" she then turned and focused on the two girls who were the true object of her wrath. "Ok, lets see how good this power really works, but I want them to suffer a bit too…hmmm….ok, I wish that the Alison would get one year younger everytime she is mean to someone, and I wish that Tamika would get a year older everytime she was mean to someone!" There was a momentary tingle she could feel and she saw the two girls glow for a second as well. "This should be fun" Anabel grinned. Just then Anabel noticed a sign that said children had to be at least 12 years of age to ride some of the rides. "Drat!" fumed Anabel, "Well, I will be old enough one day soon, I just wish that day would come sooner" Anabel thought about using her new power on herself but thought better of it, not until she knew how to control it better. What she did not notice was the glow that surrounded her now for a moment and dissapeared as well. As she watched Alison and Tamika closely, she did not have to wait long. The two girls seemed to be masters on alienation and snobbery. Within 5 minutes they had insulted the ticket man at the gate, knocked over the cotton candy from a young boys hands and laughed at the dress another young girl was wearing. Anabel could tell that the magic was working. She could just make out that Alison's face seemed fresher and her once tight clothes seemed a bit looser. She looked to be about 17 years of age now, and she also seemed to be acting a bit different too. Tamika on the other hand seemed to be straining her red top as her cleavage which was already generous, was now practically spilling out of her now too small bra. She had blossomed a bit more and her face seemed a bit more angular as she lost what was left of her baby fat. She looked like a full grown woman at this point of perhaps 23 or 24, and she was acting different as well. She could now overhear the two girls talking, both seemed just a bit confused as well. "Uh, Tamika, like, uh, gee, I really appreciate you coming with me to the park and all, its like so rad of you to do that!" Tamika was swishing her hips a bit more as her breasts jiggled as she walked. "No problem girlfriend! I mean, honey, I promise to watch out for you and teach you all the good things a woman should know!" Anabel was loving this, she smiled broadly as she straignted out her tight shirt, and her shoes seemed to hurt some too, perhaps she was getting tired from standing out in the hot sun for so long, but this was too good to pass up. The girls continued to either insult or be rude to most everyone they encountered, however, Alison seemed to do it less and less the younger she got while Tamika got more bold and rude as she got older. Within minutes, Alison was a young 15 year old high school freshman while Tamika had aged to 29 years of age. Alisons clothes seemed to be hanging on her adolescent, blossoming body now, while Tamika was looking like a real adult woman now, and acting sassy as well. "Tamika, whats it like to be, you know, like an adult?" asked a unsure Alison. Tamika grinned, "Girl, you have no idea! Honey, once you get a little older and you get some jugs like these, "Tamika smiled as she cupped her very large breasts, " then you will know what it is like to attract some real men and then you will know what a man can do for a woman!" she laughed as Alison blushed a bit. Just then, Anabel felt a cool breeze across her midriff and as she put her hand up to her stomach she brushed up against what felt like to small breasts. Breasts?! A shocking revelation then engulfed her as she turned and caught her reflection in a mirrior on the fun house. A blossoming 14 year old girl stared back, her white t-shirt looking too small to contain her growing body and her tight shorts beginning to dig into her skin. "Madre's mia!" she exclaimed "What is happening to me?" she heard a slight spanish accent begin to seep into her speech, which sounded odd, like her mother's accent. She was not sure how to reverse what was happening to her as she was not sure why it was happening, she just new that if she did not change soon, she would be bursting out of her clothes at any minute. She momentarily forgot about the girls, Alison, who had just dropped in years to 13 years of age after knocking a drink over a couple of kids, and Tamika just passed years of age herself after another couple run-ins with people. Fine lines were beginning to appear around her eyes as her large, round ass was beginning to get tight in her orange pants. Anabel ducked into a gift shop and grabbed some larger clothes off the rack and ran into the changing room and quickly changed into a large sundress. She looked into the changing room mirror for a moment, amazed at the change in her appearance. Her dark hair was now cascading across her shoulders. Her body was loosing the tomboy look she had always known and was picking up the soft curves of a young girl entering high school. She put her hands up to her face, "Unbelievable!" she whispered, as she noticed her hands looked different too. Soon, she re-appeared, barefoot, having lost the fight of size with her shoes. She was now rapidly approaching 15 years of age and her breasts seemed to still be growing. The attendant looked at her strangely. "Isn't that a bit too big for you miss?" asked the clerk. "Maybe for the moment" shrugged Anabel as she handed the clerk 20 dollars for the dress, "gracias" she said without realizing it and walked quickly out. As Anabel walked out of the store she immediately spotted a young girl of 11, trying to hold up a pair of way too large red shorts as the blue tank top seemed to look more like a dress than anything else. Tamika on the other hand was beginning to look her age, as she was now at least 38 years of age, and looking every bit a middle-aged woman with fine lines on her face, gray hairs sprinkled generously throughout her hair and additional wieght in her ass and breasts made the outfit she was wearing look silly. "Tamika" said the now young Alison, "I know you are my babysitter and everything, but could you like, help me get some other clothes? I don't know why Mommy made me wear these to the park." "You and me both Honey child" said an increasingly uncomfortable Tamika as the clothes dug into her skin. "Tell you what baby, lets go over in that shop there and we can both get some new clothes, alright?" The young girl nodded quickly as they both walked into the same shop that Anabel had walked into a moment before. By the time this scene had played out, Anabel felt very strange. She had gotten caught up in the moment watching Alison and Tamika that she had not even noticed that she had aged past 18 years of age. She walked over to the fun house mirror and saw a beautiful young woman of 19 staring back at her. Her breasts had grown considerably and were now straining the top of her sundress as her generous cleavage now shown through the top as her now large nipples could be seen outlining the front of the dress too.. Her dark hair now framed a beautful face and she looked down at her bare feet, pulling up the dress that once came down past her ankles that now were almost at her knee's. She pulled the dress up to her top of her thighs briefly and saw that her legs were now very long and very shapely, tan and toned. She quickly let the dress fall back down and blushed as she noticed that there were some men watching her with great interest. "I think I betters get backs to ze girls…what iz….me voice, por kay? What happening to me, me know speak like theez!" Anabel's mind seemed to be thinking in spanish now and she was having a hard time remembering English. Her voice was also a sultry 2 octives lower than it once was, with a thick spanish accent where there once was none. The magic was working in overtime now. As Anabel's mind was now thinking mostly in Spanish, she had a tough time concentrating. She also noticed that her skin had gotten darker too, a very deep tan-like look and she was almost transformed completely into a full-blooded spanish beauty. Not only had she aged, but it had enhanced her ethnicity as well. She suddenly realized what had made this happen and she concerntrated very hard to say the words in english as she had no idea what doing a wish in Spanish might do. "Make dis stop, I wizh dat I get no …how you say, older!" She glowed for a moment and then it stopped. She looked back into the mirror and figured she was now around 23 years old, a full grown adult woman, and a beautiful one at that. She stood at least 5'10" tall now with dark hair cascading down her shoulders and a very full figure, but with slender hips and long, luscious legs that were to die for. Her silver dollar sized nipples were pressing very hard against the fabric of the sun dress as they were quite evident as her abundant cleavage was accentuated and bulging out of the top of the dress. She was now every man's fantasy woman, but she also had lost almost completely the ability to speak english or understand it that well. She figured she had better end the other wish before it was too late as well. She concentrated hard again. "Me wish dat…por kay…uh, dat ze too senorita's stop…ah, ze stop getting…older…and young…se, dat iz what…." It was too late, the last of her english finally faded away, but hopefully she made the final wish in time. What she did not see was the glowing around a 7 year old Alison and a 42 year old Tamika. They had each gotten new clothes inside the store and emerged looking their respective ages. Alison skipped outside wearing a little jumper outfit with Winnie the Pooh on it while Tamika had on a loose fitting large dress. She also had to purchase a new bra and panties as her other ones had gotten too small. She had put on some weight as well and her graying hair was now in a bun and under a large straw hat. She had also bought a pair of sandels which helped her aching feet some too. "Slow down child! I can't keep up with you girl!" strained Tamika as she struggled to keep up with the now little girl. As Anabel watched the two "girls" walk past her, she could not understand a word that they said but understood that she had stopped them changing but had not had time to reverse the spell before her english had left her. Just then, a young girl of 16 brushed past Anabel, coming from the same clothes shop. She looked strangly familiar, then it struck her that the bouncing blonde teenage beauty was that formely old woman from earlier in the day. She was giggling and laughing in delight dressed in a pair of tight shorts and a bikini top that showed off her perky and abundant breasts as she went looking for fun. "Anabel thought for a moment in spanish and realized that she better leave as she had a new life she needed to make for herself. The only way she would find a way to change things would be to start learning to speak english again and in perhaps a few months she would be able to speak it well enough to reverse some things and make them right again. But first she would need to find a job as she could not go back home looking like this. Just as she was about to leave she noticed a sign on the door of the magic shop in the amusement park, "Help Wanted: Spanish speaking clerk needed", it was written in spanish as well and Anabel smiled as she walked into the shop. This is just what she needed.  
  5. THE BORROWED GOWN by Erika Lynn (F2F, Culture Change) "NATASHA MAXIMOV" by The SHEIK An artistic endeavor by the fat lovin' SHEIK Part 1 Ian Darkstone had two passions in life. Magic and fat women. He had discovered the joys of both at a relatively early age. A carnival magician had left the ten year old Darkstone mystified, and the resident 500 pound fat lady had just plain stupified him. The travelling trickster had unlocked Ian's innate talent for solving and creating intricate "illusions" and "Big Betty" had left her swollen image forver seared in his developing psyche. It would probably not surprise you that Ian Darkstone grew up to be the premiere magician of our times, as well as an unabashed admirer of large and lovely women. His conquests of multitudinous plumpers, BBW's, and super-sized maidens was only eclipsed by his growing interest and expertise in the "real" magical arts. He had recently began delving into Astral Projection, a discipline he was rapidly mastering. Truth be told, it was his infatuation with an online super-size model that had driven him to try the risky, spirit-walking trick. She went by the name of Natasha Maximov, and Ian had quickly become enamored with the 656 pound Russian-American redhead. He had dutifully purchased all of her available pictures, videos, cd-roms and magazine appearances. He had also spent untold dollars on her 900 feeder line, on which she painstakingly and teasingly chronicled her weight, measurements, food intake and romantic exploits. He was hooked bad. Ian spent even more money trying to track down the elusive and mysterious Natasha, to no avail. It was as if the woman didn't even exist. No paper trail, records search or private investigator could locate the reclusive beauty. Despite her overwhelming presence on the net, the lady sure valued her privacy. So Ian set about the task of finding her through more creative methods. With the help of certain alchemical substances and the "psychic residue" from an autographed picture, Ian set about finding his target. His assistant, a most gracious and lovely BBW in her own right, would act as the anchor through which his astral form could return home. He began the long incantation that would allow him to project his consciousness into the ether, and suppressed his growing anticipation. Taurus Vixen looked on, while nibbling at a carton of Krispy Kreme donuts. A long while passed, and the donut box was emptied before she felt certain Ian had succeeded. In what seemed like seconds, Ian was there. A posh townhome in the affluent section of downtown San Francisco, held the woman of his dreams. He passed through the front door and scoped out the house. In a basement office, Ian found a sole occupant. At first he thought he had erred in his calculations as he viewed a blonde girl in her mid-twenties and all of 120 pounds with shoes on. Hardly the monument to gluttony he had hoped to find. Ian almost relinquished the spell in disappointment, but his curiousity got the best of him and he decided to snoop around awhile. He was quickly rewarded for his persistence. After discovering a cache of Natasha merchandise in a storeroom, he assumed the girl might be a business manager or secretary of some sort. But the house was hardly fat friendly, and showed no signs of harboring anyone but this slip of a girl. He listened in on several of her phone conversations about deadlines and submittals. She had that perky, high pitched voice that most men found attractive-if you liked the beach bunny type. It was the voice that solved the mystery though. The girl, whose name he discovered was Kelli Jensen, began dictating into a sound system. Oddly enough, she input about an hour of Natasha Maximov's typical 900 line material. Something nagged like an ex-wife at Ian's brain as the mystery deepened. Kelli put the CD of her recording into the computer and called up a program. As the system started up, Ian began to follow Kelli upstairs until he heard Natasha's voice. "Of course!" Ian exclaimed to no one but himself. "It's so simple!" Ian stood dumbfounded in the astral plane as Kelli's dictation was spat back out in the sultry and accented tones of Natasha Maximov. He coudn't find Natasha before, because she never existed! As he perused the contents of Kelli's computer he saw imaging software, anatomical models, and various images of a 3-D Natasha computer image. Natasha was nothing more than an elaborate, high-tech con job being played on an unsuspecting FA populace. As much as he had to give this girl credit for pressing all the right buttons when it came to Natasha Maximov's popularity, his anger was rapidly overwhelming him. His first thought was to zap her computer system, but he decided that was too quick and far too easy. When he entered the real world again, he told his tale to Taurus Vixen, and the two came up with a most fitting punishment for the dear girl. As she would soon find out. Part 2 Kelli Jensen woke up that morning just like always. It wasn't until she had to put some extra "oomph" into getting her lycra exercise pants and sports bra on that she noticed anything different. Combing her short hair she noticed the blonde strands had an uncharacteristic strawberry hue and were definitely more curly than usual. Blaming it on her new Euro Styling Conditioner, she completed her morning ritual by standing on the bathroom scale. It gave her a laugh to think that all those horny FA's were actually drooling over a skinny little blonde from California. To her surprise, the digital device registered an unexpected 5 additional pounds. "Hmph." Kelli mused. "Guess I'll have to lay off the cream cheese on my morning bagel." She cut short her morning jog after becoming slightly fatigued halfway through, and considered that she might have caught a virus of some sort. She was soon sitting in front of her PowerMac viewing the number of hits at her pay site and listening to her belly rumble. "That bagel didn't go very far today" She thought. Kelli fidgeted in front of the monitor as she tried to adjust her pants and top, which seemed increasingly uncomfortable. She began running some accounting software while she changed into a pair of sweatpants and an oversize University of Kentucky t-shirt. Feeling more comfortable, she was soon agitated by several locks of hair that were obscuring her vision. She stalked to her bedroom in agitation and nearly fainted when she saw herself in the full length mirror. Her ass and hips had grown voluptuous to say the least. They were on the verge of stressing the fabric that so snugly contained them. A small belly roll had formed underneath a decidedly substantial bosom, whose twin breasts now resembled extra firm water balloons. Her face was plumper, with fuller lips and heavy lidded eyes. Not to mention her hair, which was undoubtedly redder, curlier, and longer. Her pudgy arms and legs completed the ensemble of accumulated flab, that could probably be measured at an increase of some hundred pounds or so. "What in the world is happening to me?!" Kelli cried out. Ian Darkstone watched Kelli from the stealthy confines of the astral plane. Everything was going as planned. Watching her change was actually alot more fun and erotic than he thought it would be. Kelli stood in front of the mirror for a few more minutes unable to comprehend what was happening to her. Her chest had swollen up quite uncomfortably inside her t-shirt. Her breast were impossibly large, slightly torpedo shaped and seemed to defy gravity in an attempt to obscure her immediate line of sight. She could feel the bulging hemisphere that used to be her 24" stomach jutting out almost as far as her ludicrously large bosom. Her burgeoning hips brushed the door frame as she stumbled out of the bathroom and her now mammoth ass sent shockwaves of vibrations through her as she waddled slowly along. Kelli looked in astonishment at the face that looked back at her from her dresser mirror. It was first of all, undeniably fat. Huge jowels and overinflated lips puckered out from what would have been a model's face 400 pounds ago. The skintone was darker, and brown eyes stared out from behind dark, auburn red bangs that hung down in sensuous curls. This was not her body, it was a perfect copy of Natasha Maximov's. "Vat iz happening to me?" Kelli echoed her earlier thought and was shocked to hear a stranger's voice come out of her own throat. "Eet iz not pozzible! Theez iz Natasha's voice!" Ian decided at that point to reveal himself. Like an avenging spirit he materialized in front of Kelli, who quite overstressed already, simply passed out. Ian snickered at the fattened female as her substantial frame hit the floor with a massive thud. He levitated her over to the bed and waited for her to awaken. After a few minutes she stirred and muttered something about a weird dream. Ian snickered again. The groggy girl bolted upright at the sound and shrieked at Ian. "Vat are you doing een my house!?" her eyes grew wide at her strange voice and she slapped her hand over her mouth. She then perused her new body and proceeded to pass out again. "Oh no you don't." Ian smiled waving his hand in front of her face, "we'll have no more of that." She returned to alertness as fear and sadness pooled up in her eyes. "Vat haz been done to me?" "Let's just say i'm Natasha's number one fan," Ian began "and when I found out you were scamming me and alot of other members of the FA brotherhood I decided the world needed a real Natasha, and you fit the bill quite nicely." "But I do not wish to be zo obeze?" Kelli/Natasha whined. "I guess you should have thought of that a long time ago." Ian smirked. "Vat is to become of me?" Kelli was worried. "That's up to you." Ian intoned. "How about we go out for dinner?" "I cannot go out like such a huge bleemp!" Kelli groaned. "Downgrading fat women by calling yourself that will not get you on my good side, I could make you as big as a real blimp if you don't behave. Besides it's not like anyone will recognize you." "I zuppose zat eez true. I will go if I must, but I have nothing to wear?" "Of course you do." Ian gestured and the inflated femme was wearing a supersize evening gown fit for a princess. The silk fabric cupped and tucked and squeezed Kelli in all the right places to maximize her outrageaous 70"- 56"- 76" dimensions. It was quite a sight. "How many silkworms died to make theez drezz?" Kelli quipped. "Not enough if you don't behave…" Ian smiled and gestured. Kelli's immense bosom began to swell again, her creamy mountains cresting the top of the dress, creating a vast display of cleavage. She could feel the dress tightening every where else as well. "All right! You vin!" Let me know how you like it so far. If I get some good responses i'll keep working on it . THE SHEIK Part 3 "That's what I wanted to hear." Ian smiled. As she lumbered her unfamiliar bulk outside, Kelli saw a cargo van waiting for them. "I am not zat big!" Kelli groused, as Ian helped her into the expanse of the cargo area. "We'll just have to see about that." Ian reinforced his earlier threat. Kelli sat pouting as they sped toward their dinner date. Ian sat appraising the mass of feminine abundance that he had created. She was even more beautiful in person. And the night was still young. They stopped at a swank looking joint with an arabian style facade that said "Sheik Ahrzani's". Ian exhanged pleasantries with the doorman and gave him a handsome tip as they were ushered inside. The maitre'd seemed to know Ian quite well. "Ah, Mr. Darkstone." he purred, "What a pleasant surprise! And I see you have brought a special guest this evening." "Bite me." Kelli muttered. "I'd like the Grand Table for myself and my feisty date." Ian squeezed Kelli's beefy arm and led her to a massive banquet table. "The lady would like a glass of the Shiek's finest bubbly."Ian winked at the maitre'd as they sat down. Ian caught Kelli giving herself a good looking over. She seemed lost in thought. "It's not so bad is it?" Ian asked respectfully. "Oh no!" Kelli mocked, "Eet iz vunderful to be az beeg az a house." "I personally find you to be extraordinarily ravishing Natasha." Ian grinned. "Hmph." Kelli fumed, "You are een zee minority pal." "A minority that you didn't mind making a handsome living off of." Ian rebuked her. She continued to pout in silence until the waiter brought a crystal glass with some type of champagne in it. Immediately after that a cluster of servers brought a group of platters out filled with rich delicacies. Kelli saw Lamb, Duck, Veal, Lobster, Roast and several other entrees that would have fed a platoon. "I'll make you a deal." Ian smiled. "A deal…" Kelli's eyes brightened. "If you can eat the Le Grande Buffet I'll turn you back into Kelli." "I couldn't eat all this even if I vanted to." Kelli was shocked at the idea. "I've given you everything Natasha Maximov has, except her appetite…and this drink will give you her appetite." "Zo, if I eat your Buffet, az you zay….you will change me back to normal." Kelli hoped. "If you indulge me by eating this table of food, I will change you back into Kelli." Ian promised. Kelli downed the bubbly in one giant gulp. She was going to make this meal as fast as possible. The thought of staying this blimpette any longer than she had to was unbearable. Fortunately for her it did not take very long for an almost overwhelming hunger to overtake her. She was suddenly ravenous and tore into the rack of lamb in front of her. Ian smiled, exchanging knowing glances with some of the other dinner patrons. Unlike Kelli, they knew what the she was in for. And it did not take long. Within minutes her already titanic bosom was swelling outward in an exceptional display of hypertrophied abundance. The dress was fighting a lost cause to keep the immense, yet still miraculously firm, display of mammary pulchritude in check. Her hips and ass were the next part of her anatomy to join in the race as they ballooned outward in an unbelievable surge of growth. The seams of her dress split as her hips began to drop of the edge of her chair, and her robustly rotund rear formed two cushiony moons the size of sumo bellies. Supporting rolls of fat began to form underneath her breast and on her lower back. Kelli's gargantuan gut was pressing forward like some massive pile of dough rising in an oven, with too much yeast to boot. It boosted her bountiful chest up into her face and into her arms making it hard for her to see and reach her meal. It's rampant expansion spread her legs ever wider as it's globular mass began to droop towards the floor. Her dress split up the middle and was soon hanging in shreds on her overinflated frame. Ian was sporting a boner the size of the Sears tower and the rest of the crowd was into it as well. She had most likely doubled in weight to reach the half ton mark, and he could only guess at her vital measurements. Kelli had finished by now, sitting in a post-feeding- frenzy coma with the slightest dribble of sauce on the side of her mouth. Damn! She was the hottest thing he had ever seen. As she stirred she noticed her extra padding. "Zo, am I finally beeg enough to zatisfy you oh mazter." "You don't seem so upset," Ian was genuinely puzzled, "I would have thought you would have been mortified." "Az they zay, When in Rome…." Kelli gave him a sexy grin that spoke volumes. "Check please." Ian yelled. TO BE CONTINUED….. I have been very dissapointed that only a few people have donated/invested in the Weight Gain Movie Group's efforts to make a full lenght weight gain film for t.v. or video release. If you would like to help and motivate my writing efforts send them some cash and help us get a REAL freakin FA movie made. I know you've wasted money on dumber stuff so pony up some damn dough you cheap bastards. Contact WGMG through the e-mail link. YOUR PAL THE SHEIK  
  6. THE TRANSFORMATION BY ANONYMOUS Q (Humiliation, adult baby, pseudo race / culture change, weight gain) The HARKLORN CENTER FOR WOMEN .. A psychological hospital and research center located in a rural portion of New England. The tall yellow stone building, surrounded by a 15-foot tall chain link fence, resembled a medieval castle, originally it had been a medical school when it was erected back in the late 1800’s. It was now a government sponsored mental health facility that had a classroom for disadvantaged females along with a staff of social workers to aid their clients in enrolling for public aid and various other benefits. There was indeed a small functioning hospital and research department. Doctor Louise Devoux was the acting CEO, who made a name for herself in the study of the cause and effect of poverty on women. Louise was an attractive, intelligent woman, an overachiever some might say (including herself), for she was still in her twenties. Brown hair, delicate features and slim figure. Fashion model gorgeous her appearance opened many doors for her. And this was obvious when it came time to select somebody to run the establishment after the former CEO moved on. The only other contender was Doctor Jane Hena, an intelligent woman as well, though thought quite eccentric by Louise. Jane Hena was a plump middle-aged women with graying black hair and granny style eyeglasses, not especially attractive and dressed ridiculously frumpy. It was apparent why Louise was selected over Jane, even though Jane’s credentials were just as noteworthy. It was a late afternoon when Louise was finishing her work and was about to take a four day weekend at a cozy ocean side resort in Maine. Louise was at her desk when her assistant Molly Aberdeen entered her office. “Doctor Devoux. I just spoke with the resort, the arrangements have been made for your stay and a car will be picking you at you here in an hour.” Molly was a chubby brunette, around fifty years of age and professionally attired in an orange blouse and brown skirt. Louise responded with a simple, “Fine.” Upon shutting down her computer, Louise noticed Molly still in attendance. “Is there something else?”, Louise’s firm tone was highly condescending. Molly nodded. Louise stood from her desk, “Well speak up, I have a schedule to keep!” “Yes doctor Devoux”, Molly demurely uttered. “Doctor Hena called and asked if you went over her notes from the previous staff meeting?” The look of scorn upon Louise’s alluring face was overdramatic. “That inane woman knows how I feel about her and her theories. Bad enough I have to deal with an incompetence staff. I needn’t have her harassing me. First thing back from my vacation and I’m going to terminate that moron.” “Yes ma’am”, Molly replied, “That’s a shame.” “Really now”, Louise deviously smirked, “And why is that?” Molly explained about how well Dr. Hena got along with the patients, clients and staff and that she was incredibly smart. Louise begged to differ, “If Jane was that smart she would know that I would have gladly surrender my office to her once I’ve finished my tenure here.” “You’re leaving?”, Molly asked. Louise leaned her shapely ass against her desk, “It’s obvious I don’t plan to spend my entire career in this rat house. The patients and clients are socially dysfunctional. After I make a name for myself in the psychological world, I plan to move on, work with the more affluent members of society and get away from these vile stupid women.” Molly nodded, Louise added, “Most of the females we work with are suited for menial occupations at best and the others, will end up on welfare and public aid.” Molly politely excused herself, Louise strolled over to her private restroom. Removing her lab coat, Louise washed her face and ran a brush through her wavy brown mane. It was then she noticed a purple glass bottle of perfume. It wasn’t hers, where did it come from? Louise crinkled her nose as curiosity got the better of her, she opened the bottle and sampled the aroma. The sweet aroma was extremely intoxicating and she smelled it again. It was then that Louise was overcome with a bout of lightheadedness and she blinked several times. Feeling quite dizzy, she wobbled out of the restroom and promptly took a seat. The room kept spinning, and Louise then developed a mild headache. “Molly…Molly!”. Louise called out. The door opened and Doctor Jane Hena walked into Louise’s office. “You’ll be alright in a few minutes Louise, don’t worry”, Jane smiled, a serene sound to her voice. Louise squinted at Jane, “Where you come from? I thought you left for the day…” “I took the evening shift at the clinic tonight”, Jane hummed, “I’m anxious to greet our new patient.” All at once, Louise felt terribly drained, she stretched out her legs, holding her head as she asked, “What new…patient..?” Then everything went black. PART TWO When Louise opened her eyes she was on a hard metal chair in an examination room. Louise looked around, noticing the clock on the wall, she realized that she was out for somewhere around four hours. It wasn’t the only thing Louise noticed. Her designer dress was swapped for a metallic blue T-shirt with black trim that was clipped high at the waist to show off her flat tummy and a black mini skirt. Louise’s hand glided over the cheap material, her lovely 36-B breasts unconstrained from a bra, mildly jiggling in the process. Though the headache had subsided, she was nonetheless lightheaded, and she softly peeped, “Hello?” A tall, heavily built nurse entered the examination room. Her silver hair in an old fashion style bun, her expression was unnaturally coarse, and so was her voice. “I’m Sally, I’m the attending RN, do you have any questions?” Louise nodded, her voice fragile, “No, um. I’m Doctor Devoux, I run this place..” Sally’s expression was of rid of humor, “Get up on your feet missy, undress and we’ll proceed.” “You don’t understand, I’m a resident psychologist, I’m in charge”, Louise told her. Sally folded her arms over her enormous size breasts, “That’s where you’re wrong, missy. I’m in charge and I need to process you before the doctor sees you.” “But I’m a doctor!”, Sally protested in which Sally replied with a mocking smirk, “And I’m the Queen of France.” Sally walked over and picked up the phone, asking for another nurse to help her. A few minutes later another RN entered the examination room. A younger woman with short blond hair in a second rate bob style and just as heavy though reasonably pretty in looks. She introduced herself as Abby before yanking Louise out of her chair. As the nurse’s forcibly undressed Louise, she did put up a fight but feeling unusually exhausted, soon relinquished. Louise stood naked with exception to her K-mart brand of panties. “129-pounds”, Sally loudly chuckled as she weighed Louise. Sally then turned to Abby, “Should I write undernourished in her chart? Fattening her up during her stay might take some of that beauty out of her face.” Louise sneered, “I’m perfectly healthy, not undernourished besides, I won’t be staying here.” Abby directed her attention to Louise, “Keep the comments to yourself”, she then turned to Sally, “Yeah, she looks too be the type that gains weight easily, has a breeders figure, she won’t look so attractive with a big gut and hefty thighs.” The examination continued; blood pressure, temperature, the works. Eventually Sally held unto Louise as she was given a sedative by Abby, “Doctor’s orders miss, she wants you easy to handle.” After dressed in a greenish-blue hospital gown, Louise was placed back into the chair. “Doctor will be here in a couple of minutes”, Sally informed the abnormally relaxed Louise. It was then that Abby swiped Louise’s upper arm with an alcohol pad and gave her another injection. As the nurse’s began walking toward the door, Sally momentarily paused and insidiously grinned, “Maybe after your educated, you could start a career here in housekeeping or food service.” Louise mumbled as the nurses left the room, “I’m..educated..u..stupid fat cow….” A few minutes later Doctor Jane Hena entered the room. “What you do to me?”, Louise spitefully asked Jane. Jane took a seat, “I haven’t a clue to what you’re talking about miss.” “You know very well….”, Louise paused, thinking was becoming difficult, “…I’m your superior, dotoc…doctor Devoux.” “I don’t think you’re anybody’s superior”, Jane answered back, opening the chart, asked, “Name.” “You know my..m..name”, Louise irritably exhaled. Jane nodded, “Very well. Louise Doe. Louise sat, her mind numb, her body fatigued, listening as Jane vocally announced everything she put in the chart. “Age, 20.” “I’m 27”, Louise sneered. Jane continued. “Education, high school drop out, on the low side of average in intelligence.” Louise grimaced, “That’s not true..I went to several colleges….I’m genius level in intelligence.” “We’ll see”, Jane replied, “Occupation, I’ll put unknown.” “Race!”, Jane snickered as she looked at Louise. “Since most of our clients and patients are African-Americans I surmise it’ll be to your advantage if I list you as bi-racial.” “I don’t even look black let alone bi-racial!”, Louise snapped. “Aren’t you the brat”, Jane snickered. “For practical purposes your mother was African-American your dad was Caucasian.” Jane put down the chart and walked over to Louise. Jane gently cupped Louise’s chin and stared deeply into her eyes, “You were always a spoiled brat. Always getting your way, achieving a status you didn’t deserve and obtaining the role of CEO based on your appearance when I’m much more competent for the role.” Louise cringed but softly capitulated, “Let me go, Jane and I’ll see that…” Jane pulled Louise upward, firmly holding her by the arms, “It’s doctor Hena, Louise! Patients never call doctors by name!” “I’m not a patient….I have a degree myself with honors…” Jane smirked, “No. You’re not a psychologist but a patient, an incompetent young lady known only as Louise Doe. You were brought here by social services due to your incompetence.” “I’m not a patient!”, Louise shouted, “You’re crazy Jane, I’ll have you locked up for this!” “Aren‘t you cute, speaking as if you have any authority”, Jane condescendingly smiled as she sat Louise back down in the chair. Jane arrogantly peered at Louise, “I have a pet project that I’ve been working on. It was dismissed by the previous CEO because she thought it was much too far fetched, she called it science fiction.” Louise understood what Jane meant, she was the CEO who dismissed Jane’s theory as science fiction. “Jane, I read your notes, you can’t do that to me, it’s preposterous.” Jane ignored Louise and continued, “It’s called re-establishment and development. Basically transforming your personality and behavior. The program might be a little drastic, reducing you to being a baby but you should achieve some kind of competency by the time you’re released.” Jane’s voice then grew cold as she disclosed, “I can even revise your IQ and body, so it’s wise if you stay on your best behavior.” Louise loudly protested, “You can’t do this to me!”, and began yelling for help. Jane calmly picked up the phone and called Sally into the room, “Please bring a wheelchair and take patient Doe to the hospital’s lower level for confinement.” Louise was still yelling as Jane approached her, though she stopped when Jane firmly told her, “Stop it or you’ll be spanked.” Louise’s eyes grew wide as Jane serenely hummed, “Relax Louise Doe, that first injection was a sedative, it took the fight from you. But that second injection was a serum that I produced, it’ll take your mind from you.” Louise gaped, “Huh? That’s unrealistic, thoroughly impossible.” Jane ran her hand through Louise’s gorgeous brown mane, “Hush now, it’s alright. Think Louise, imagine yourself as a child. Release all your ideals and rediscover the comfort brought by sucking your thumb as a child. Do this and you’ll feel much better.” Louise didn’t want to suck her thumb but strangely felt required to do so. She shoved her thumb between her lips and noisily began to suck. “Feel better?”, Jane asked as she gently patted Louise’s head. Louise actually felt ridiculous and hesitated before nodding. Sally entered the examination room with the wheelchair and helped Louise board it. “I’ll stop by and see you Miss Doe in a few days. I’m taking a four day weekend at a nice ocean side resort before beginning my appointment as CEO.” Louise blinked, a tiny stream of drool running down her chin as she sucked her thumb, “Weekend……CEO?” “Don’t worry, you’ll be pampered in the mean time and when I returned, I’ll start the reconditioning.” Louise whimpered as she was wheeled down the hall in full sight of the various staff members and a few patients who hadn’t a clue to her identity. Louise Devoux was now Louise Doe, no longer lead psychologist and CEO but patient. Anonymous 01/11/17 (Wed) 18:59:51 No.1941 PART THREE Over the course of the four day period Louise Devoux now Louise Doe was treated like any other patient of the hospital. This was quite humiliating for the vain, intelligent young woman, especially since her room was in the lower level. Patients in the lower level could never leave their rooms, were without phones and it was light’s out at promptly nine o’clock. Her RN was a young trim African-American woman who ignored Louise’s rants about not belonging there and that she was actually a psychologist. Violet Washburn brought Louise her meals, bland hospital food with a glass of milk, and upon taking her vitals every morning, gave Louise sponge baths, though naturally sedating the patient first. Four days later Violet walked into Louise’s room and sugary announced, “Hey sweet pea, your doctor will be in here shortly to see you.” “Why can’t I convince you that I’m a psychologist myself and run this place”, Louise muttered before yawning, Violet affectionately smiled, “Now don’t get upset, Miss Doe, you’ll be well taken care of.” Louise sat upright in her bed, “Violet, Jane is crazy, she’s going to experiment on me. Please help me get out of here.” Violet humorously snickered, “Dr. Hena, crazy? I’ll tell ya sweet pea, everyone around here thinks she’s marvelous! Give her a chance, you will too!” Just as Violet left the room, Jane entered, and with a pair of rough looking orderlies. “Hello Miss Doe, are you enjoying your stay?”, Jane asked. “Go to hell!”, Louise snapped at Jane, then told the orderlies, “I don’t belong here! I’m in charge of the hospital! I’m Louise…” Jane turned to the orderlies, “Secure the patient.” The gruff looking men held Louise down as Jane injected her with a serum that effectively wore her down. Jane sternly instructed the men to escort Louise to the hospital’s lower level exam room. Sally was already in the room as the orderlies brought Louise in and sat her down in a cold metal chair. Jane entered the room and dismissed the orderlies. Jane hovered over the seated Louise, “You’ll obey my commands and not speak unless spoken too or else Sally is going to spank you. Nod if you understand.” Louise glanced over at Sally who causally smiled. Louise didn’t care for the manner in which she was being treated but complied with Jane and nodded. “Excellent!”, Jane giddily remarked. “Remove your gown.” Louise angrily sneered at Jane but obeyed her. After removing the gauzy quality hospital gown, the naked Louise was instructed to face the mirror. “Tell me Louise, are you pleased with your figure?”, Jane asked. Louise complied and answered, “My figure is fine, almost flawless.” Jane gazed over her watch, knowing that the serum she had given Louise in her room was ready to take affect, calmly repeated her question and added, “Be honest Louise, so you really think your figure is that flawless?” Louise exhaled while studying her reflection. Although modestly slender, her tummy did have a tiny pooch and her thighs weren’t exactly as firm as she liked them to be. “I guess I could lose a few pounds…”, Louise bit her lip as she replied. “Be specific!”, Jane sternly demanded. Louise pushed back her wavy brown mane and critically assessed her figure. “My tummy’s a little bit fat and my thighs are flabby…not very flabby but could be firmer.” Jane nodded, “Well said”, she then told Sally, “Write down in Louise’s chart that she has an unrealistic estimate of her body and that she’s tremendously self-conscious.” Louise turned around, blinking as she stated, “I didn’t say anything like that!” SWOOSH! Sally’s hand firmly connected with Louise’s posterior. “OUCH!”, Louise whimpered as Sally backhanded her ass. “Speak out of line again and I’ll take you over my knee Louise!”, Sally heatedly said. Jane walked over to Louise and acutely scrutinized Louise’s figure, “Put this in the patient’s chart as well. Louise Doe’s hips are especially adequate for childbearing, her breasts are likewise healthy.” Jane adamantly addressed Louise, “Remember last Friday evening about the comfort you feel from sucking your thumb? Shelve your inhibitions and do so whenever you feel anxiety or stress.” Louise wanted to tell Jane off but knew that it would result in a spanking and she simply nodded. Jane approached Sally, “Trim the patients hair and remove all her pubic hair as well. Take her to room 9 and see Wanda, leave her the patient’s chart. Wanda has been instructed in advance on the methods best suited for Louise.” Jane turned back to Louise, “I’ll see you when I make my rounds Friday.” Jane then lifted her head and smirked, this emotionally upset Louise and against her will, began sucking her thumb. In the next few hours Louise’s wavy, shimmering brown hair was reduced to a modest pixie hairstyle and her pubic hair was removed. She was then shuffled down a long corridor, all the while sucking her thumb, and was dropped off in a room that resembled a nursery. A pair of nurses introduced themselves; Wanda Stonewall, a heavyset African-American women around forty-years of age, and Kim Blaney, a cute slim Caucasian gal in her early 20’s. Sally handed Wanda the chart, “She’s a brat, so I know you’ll know how to handle her.” “Sure will”, Wanda smiled with a chuckle. Sally turned to Louise, “I’ll see you later”, with that she patted Louise’s tummy, “More of you later!” Sally then laughed as she exited the nursery, “Remember to apply for a food service position, unless you plan to sign up for welfare!” Louise cringed, wanting to haul Sally over the coals but knowing better to keep quiet. Wanda gently took Louise by the arm, “Don’t let Sally rile you, we’ll treat you well and once you’re released, you be alright.” Louise sighed, “I’m not a patient, I shouldn’t be here at all.” Wanda looked over to Kim, “Listen hon, you diaper the child while I warm up her bottle.” Louise pulled her arm away from Wanda’s grip, and bolted to the door, realizing it was locked just as Wanda grabbed her shoulders and securely held her. “Get the needle, this child needs to be sedated!”, Wanda called out. Kim did as she was told, and soon afterward, Louise was in nothing but a diaper and relaxing comfortable in an adult size crib. Wanda stood over the crib, an adult size baby bottle in her arms. “Doctor wants you just to be bottle fed for the time being”, Wanda chirped, “Plenty of vitamins and stuff, make you feel better.” A sour expression coated Louise’s beautiful face and she groaned. Wanda brought the bottle downward, adjusting Louise’s body in an adequate manner in which for her to drink. Louise at first refused the nipple as it flirted with her lips but changed her mind and began to nourish on the milk once Wanda told her, “If you don’t abide by doctor’s orders, she’ll have no course but adjust your thoughts into a two-year old.” Over the next few days Louise never left the crib, was bottle fed and was put to sleep at nine. The RN’s took turns changing Louise’s diapers and spoke to her like she was actually a baby. No TV or radio, only her thoughts keeping her company, and her thumb that she found herself sucking more often than not. Anonymous 01/11/17 (Wed) 19:00:04 No.1942 PART FOUR Kim stood along side the crib, a baby bottle in her arms while Wanda coated Louise’s ass with baby powder. The nurses conversing over various trivial subjects, nothing pertaining to Louise Doe, previously known as Doctor Louise Devoux. Louise impatiently listened to the drivel but finally irritably squawked, “How long will I be kept here?” Wanda grabbed the overly large, plastic adult diaper, “Honey, interrupting adults while they talk isn‘t polite.” “At least give me some real food, I’m getting tired of milk”, Louise said, nibbling on her thumb. Wanda ignored Louise’s comment as she proceeded to diaper her, and instead resumed her conversation with Kim. Once Louise was securely diapered, Kim gently handed Louise the bottle. Louise sneered at Kim but though wouldn’t admit it, was quite hungry and quickly fastened her lips to the nipple and contentedly drank the warm milk. Once Kim and Wanda walked back to the nurse’s station, they were visited by Dr. Hena who congratulated the nurses on their work. “I commend you both on the fine work. Though I need a little extra help from you Wanda”, Dr. Hena said as she looked through Louise’s chart. Wanda smiled, “Sure Doctor, whatever you like.” Dr. Hena paused, turning her direction to Kim, “Please prepare patient Doe for a trip to the lower level exam room, Sally will be by shortly to pick her up.” Kim nodded, “Yes Doctor”, then did as was ordered. Dr. Hena helped herself to a cup of coffee before telling Wanda, “I’m afraid our patient is a very mixed up about her identity.” “How so?”, Wanda asked. Dr. Hena persuasively dictated her opinion, “As it states in her chart, Louise is bi-racial. Since her mother was African-American, I surmise it would be to her benefit to recognize her African-American heritage. Bond with her the best you can.” “Sure Doctor, I will”, Wanda happily agreed. Sometime later Louise was brought to a very cold exam room, wearing only a yellow T-shirt with a cartoon picture of a mouse on it and diapers. Sally strapped Louise in a metal chair the proceeded to draw blood. Louise didn’t complain, knowing that anything spoken might induce a spanking. Dr. Hena quietly entered the room, looking over Louise’s chart, she then brilliantly smiled. “I see that the milk is agreeing with you, you‘ve increased your bottle intake by four per day”, Dr. Hena commented with a shrewd grin, “And you’ve put on five pounds.” “How long do you plan to keep me here?”, Louise bickered. Dr. Hena put down the chart and then walked over to a small metal table and picked up a syringe. “As long as it takes”, Dr. Hena remarked after giving Louise the first injection. Dr. Hena then instructed Sally to wait outside the examination room. In a clam tone, Dr. Hena told Louise, “You made it difficult for me while I worked for you. Besides your arrogant attitude, you purposely criticized my study in human behavior. The final straw was when you stole the CEO position from me when I was better qualified for the role.” “If you let me go, I’ll correct this, I promise”, Louise softly pleaded. Dr. Hena wiped Louise’s arm with an alcohol pad then gave her another injection. “That first injection was simply a hormone shot, something that will stimulate your appetite.” “You’re going to make me fat!”, Louise snapped. Dr. Hena smiled, “A sufficient weight gain is necessary since I know of your vanity but there’s more.” Louise began feeling incredibly lightheaded, blinking a few times, she half-smiled, “What’s more?” Dr. Hena looked at her watch, “In a few minutes that second serum I put in your blood stream should take effect.” Louise impatiently blurted, “What else, besides making me fat?” Dr. Hena insidiously grinned, “Seems I wasn’t the only one who was subjected to your arrogance.” In a calm and steady manner, Dr, Hena ran through a list of people, both staff and patients that Louise had ridiculed and shown distain. Calling certain members of the medical staff inept, having a nurse’s license revoke while having another one fired. If that wasn’t enough, during her tenure as lead psychologist, Louise reportedly told several of the patients that they couldn’t manage a real career and would be better off working at fast food restaurants or as housekeepers. And labeled other women as professional welfare precipitants. “You see Louise, you thought your college degree and appearance made you superior. Take them both away and you’ll be just another dysfunctional woman who you would consider socially inferior.” Louise bitterly gazed at Dr. Hena, “Jane….you’re…crazy…” “That’s Dr. Hena, Miss Doe.” Dr. Hena pulled up a chair and sat in front of Louise. “That second serum was to unlock your subconscious”, Dr. Hena told Louise while thumbing through her chart. “I see its noted that you’re very vocal about your care and sometimes to rude to Kim and Wanda. Hmmm, I think your vocabulary is far too advance for a child in diapers.” Louise may have felt lightheaded by the serum but she was still able to argue, “I’m not a child! I’m a grown woman.” Dr. Hena grinned, “Relax Louise, imagine how a child your age would talk, how she might express herself.” Louise squinted at Dr. Hena and angrily replied, “No, me no want to!” Louise blinked. She tried speaking as an adult but her thoughts were heavily influenced by Dr. Hena’s suggestion. “Louize no baby…me big girl!” “Guess what else baby Louise”, Dr. Hena smirked, “Babies can’t walk either. You may stand and take a few steps but other than that, you’ll crawl.” Louise had her adult mind but expressing herself was thoroughly corrupted, “No, Jane…youse is..being mean.” Dr. Hena began writing in the chart, sharing the notes with the patient, “I’m going to let you have solid food starting tonight. You’ll have some free time in a playroom and some TV provided it’s kid shows. What about that Louise?” Louise whimpered, “I ain’t baby! Me big girl!” Dr. Hena had Sally bring in the wheelchair and take Louise back to the nursery. “I’ll drop by and see you in a week Louise”, Dr. Hena remarked as she playfully pinched Louise’s cheek. Louise was then wheeled back to the nursery, her thumb squarely in her mouth. Anonymous 01/11/17 (Wed) 19:00:25 No.1943 PART FIVE Louise was given a schedule that was dutifully carried out by the nurses. She was usually fed a breakfast of oatmeal and baby cereal and given a bottle that included hormones. Some TV before her nap and then another bottle. Lunch included various kinds of baby food and bottles before and after. Some free time in the playroom with Sesame Street on the TV, then a bottle before her nap. Dinner, more baby food and a bottle of milk. After dinner Louise was placed in an adult size playpen and given a bottle. A little snack usually ice cream or pudding before bedtime which was at nine o’clock. ~ A WEEK LATER ~ Louise was in the playroom adjacent to the nursery. Sucking her thumb while watching cartoons, an empty bottle within inches of her face. Clothed in a pink T-shirt decorated with a rainbow and diapers, Louise did hate the inane kid shows she was forced to watch but just happened to giggle at the humor. “Baby Louise! Lunch is ready!”, Kim called out from the nursery. Louise closed her eyes and sighed. She wasn’t amused by being called baby or Louise. She was Dr. Devoux. However, Louise rolled over and proceeded to crawl to the nursery. Even though she despised the menu, her appetite was out of control and she needed to eat. Kim smiled as she watched Louise crawl to her, waving her on and speaking in an exaggerated sugary tone, “That’s it baby, come to Kim, good baby.” Kim heaved Louise into the adult size highchair, comically stating that Louise was starting to get too heavy to pick up. Louise didn’t appreciate the humor, “You no funny, me no fat.” Kim adjusted a plastic bib with a cartoon picture of clowns around Louise’s neck, “Oh baby is cranky because she’s hungry!” Louise pouted. Kim set the bowl of baby food in front of Louise and began to feed her. Louise dread being fed and the baby food wasn’t at all appetizing but she greedily slurped away every spoonful. Dr. Hena had instructed Kim to boast of her beauty and social life and she did so with a perky smile. Kim spoke of the guys she was dating, one was a doctor another was a businessman. She then mentioned how the bikini she bought for her vacation showed her figure. This made Louise feel tremendously self-conscious and she took out her stress by consuming an additional bowl of baby food. At one point, Kim’s hand accidentally brushed up against Louise’s thigh, “My, aren’t your thighs getting a tiny bit pudgy.” Kim then reached over and pinched the flabby tissue, “You really have a nice coating of baby fat.” Louise furiously knocked over the bowl, the contents landing on top of Kim’s blouse. Kim swiftly removed the tray and took Louise over her lap where she tugged off Louise’s diaper. SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH! SWOOSH! Kim’s hand repeatedly landed on Louise’s ass, a loud smacking noise echoing through the room. Louise was stubborn and as much as it hurt, refused to moan. SWOOSH! SWOOSH! Kim smacked Louise’s ass against, “Bad baby! Bad baby!” Through Louise then began to softly whimper. Kim gently placed her hand over Louise’s redden butt cheeks, and mockingly told her, “Your ass is beginning to get fat, all that extra insulation, you probably didn‘t feel much of the spanking.” Kim eased Louise downward and escorted her to her crib. Louise began sucking on thumb as Kim momentarily left the nursery, though soon returned and armed with a syringe. “OUCH!”, Louise screeched as Kim injected her, Kim chuckled, “Lunch isn’t over with, I’ll be right back.” The room began to spin, Louise closed her eyes and sucked harder. Louise felt Kim’s hands over her shoulders, rolled unto her back, she was fitted with a mask attached to a funnel. Kim systematically poured baby food through the funnel, an outrageous amount. Louise’s cheeks swelled at the excess of baby food she was being fed, swallowing and snorting portion by portion. Time dragged and as soon as the funnel feeding concluded, Louise was given a bottle of milk. However, this time the milk was minus the sweet flavor and held a peculiar chalk like taste. Whatever it was it put Louise into a fast sleep. When Louise was stirred awake for dinner, she discovered her appetite was intensely aroused and she sloppily devoured the meal including extra helpings. Once Louise was fed solid food, Kim sat Louise on her lap and fed her bottle, after bottle, after bottle….. Just as Louise was about to nod off, she overheard Kim maliciously say, “Dr. Hena wants you well-fed, baby Louise. She’ll be well pleased when you’ll be a fat cow by the time you’re released.” Louise was situated in her crib ass upward, the needle gliding into her spongy butt cheek. Kim snickered as she diapered Louise, “That extra supplement of hormones will go directly into your blood stream, tomorrow you won’t be able to have enough to eat.” Anonymous 01/11/17 (Wed) 19:00:45 No.1944 PART SIX …..The days seemed to blend together for Louise. Eating, sleeping between watching mundane children shows that against her strong will were starting to become enjoyable. Kim did start to treat her vaguely nice again after the incident where Louise knocked the bowl of baby food on her. Though she continued to get on Louise’s nerves with her relentless bragging about her popularity and beauty. Wanda was much more sincere with affection and sometimes would treat Louise to candy bars and ice cream. Calling her little sister or Lulu. Whenever Dr. Hena would make her visits, she would taunt her rival with comments about her weight, “156-pounds! Still getting enough to eat?” And her status as patient, “You’re progressing well, in a few months we’ll see about housing you in the main hospital.” And her potential, “We’ll give you an aptitude test and see about a career. How does garment maker or bathroom attendant suit you?” ~ A MONTH AND A WEEK LATER ~ Wanda was sweetly humming while diapering Louise, “Wanda is so proud of you, yes she is! Finishing two whole bowls of oatmeal and then a bowl of melted cheese and noodles.” Louise giggled as Wanda patted her bloated tummy. “You’re going to have a belly like mine in no time honey, maybe even bigger!”, Wanda chimed. Louise’s sour expression caused Wanda to tenderly tell her, “Don’t worry, there’s no shame in being chubby. We all can’t be skinny and anyway, from your hips and breasts, I’d say you’re meant to be a woman of size.” Louise coo’d as Wanda gently rubbed her tummy bulge; and began sucking her thumb. Wanda handed Louise her bottle and stood up, briefly leaving the room. A few minutes later, Wanda returned and holding an oversized pink, blue and green T-shirt with the caption written across it, “Nubian Queen”. “You can wear this tomorrow dear, show off your heritage like all us sisters.” Louise didn’t want to spoil the kindness Wanda shown and nodded with a big smile. Wanda then wiped away the drool emitting from Louise’s lips, “Finish your bottle, Lulu and I’ll have another one ready for ya.” The next day, wearing the T-shirt that Wanda had bought her and in diapers, Louise was laying in her playpen when Dr. Hena arrived with a group of interns. Dr. Hena didn’t acknowledge Louise but spoke to the small group of psychology students. “This is Louise Doe, she was brought here to undergo my groundbreaking work in advance psychological conditioning.” Louise removed her thumb from her lips, unquestionable shocked by Jane’s speech to the students. “Know as Louise Doe, her actual name is Louise Beckum. She’s a twenty-year old former stripper from a broken home. Reared in poverty, a Caucasian deadbeat dad who abandoned her African-American mother who worked as a housekeeper. Louise dropped out of high school after her Freshman year and began a less than distinguish career as a fast food waitress and later stripper. She volunteered to come here after she was arrested for being drunk and disorderly.” “She doesn’t look like a stripper”, an intern humorously remarked. Dr. Hena was ready with an answer, “Obviously she watched her weight. Louise is being fed a healthy diet and since her mother is extremely heavy, Louise is predisposed to be a heavy woman as well. Note her child baring hips and thick ankles. Louise’s naturally personality and behavior is being reinforced so to accept her weight and not fight it.” Dr. Hena concluded the lecture by the telling the interns, “Louise is incompetent to a fair degree because she lacks the skill to study due to her negligibly average IQ but she’ll be able to find some kind of menial labor once released.” Dr. Hena and the interns left the room, Louise returned her thumb to her lips and began whimpering. Kim heard Louise’s whimpering and slowly brought her out of the playpen, and placed her into the highchair. “Eating will put you in a better mood”, Kim hummed while setting on the tray a large bowl of pudding. Kim chuckled out loud while playfully tapping Louise’s thigh, “Your thighs are bigger than mine!” Though the insult never reached Louise’s ear, she was much to absorb with her tangled emotions, eating was about all that could quell her nerves. Anonymous 01/11/17 (Wed) 19:01:00 No.1945 PART SEVEN Louise sat against the side of her playpen, nourishing on a bottle while watching a cartoon program on TV. The prestigious psychologist snorting between sips, questioning how much longer would she be trapped as a patient and treated like a child. “If me not outa here soon, my brain will turn into mush”, Louise mumbled at one point. Wanda entered the playroom, humming out loud, and wiping the drool from Louise’s lips before picking up the empty bottle. “Dr. Hena said you can have a little time in the recreation center”, Wanda announced, “Lulu want to go bye-bye!” Louise’s expression soured, leaving the confines of the nursery and being put on display in front of other patients wasn’t at all amusing to her. Kim came to Wanda’s aid in preparing Louise for her outing. They put her brown hair into pigtails and dressed her in a frilly pink top and a fresh plastic diaper. Louise couldn’t deny how her fattening diet and sedentary lifestyle had trounced her once trim figure. A soft cocoon of baby fat that provided Louise with a swollen tummy and pudgy thighs. Kim handed Louise a bottle once she placed in the wheelchair. Wanda hugged Louise, “Be good Lulu and when you get back, I’ll have some cookies and ice cream for you!” Kim wheeled Louise out of the nursery and down the corridor, up an elevator and to the hospital’s recreation center. Louise felt thoroughly uncomfortable as the various patients gazed over her. The smirks and obnoxious comments flooded the room, eventually one patient did ask Kim about Louise. Kim held unto Louise’s shoulder as she explained, “This is Louise, her friends call her Lulu. She’s a very delusional young lady who is under doctor’s care. Would you like to be her friend?” The patient shook her head though noting her resemblance to the real Dr. Louise Devoux. “She kinda looks like the mean doctor who told me I was stupid.” Kim bit her lip while lying, “No that doctor no longer works here. Lulu is a patient just like you.” The patient introduced herself, “I’m Nelly, nice to meet you Lulu.” Louise recoiled, uttering in a fragile tone, “Weave me alone! Me no patient, me doctor!” Kim pleasantly smiled at the patient, “Right now baby is in a foul mood but in a few weeks I’m sure you’ll be friends.” Nelly giggled, “I’d like that!”, then left to join her other friends. Kim bent down next to Louise and whispered, “You’ll need to be much more hospitable baby. These girls are your peers, member of the same disadvantage environment you’re from.” Louise gave Kim a dirty look, “No! Me not like them…me not.” It was then a handsome intern approached Kim and instigated some small talk. Louise felt she had a chance to be fully recognized and called out to the doctor, “Me no patient! Me doctor!” The intern casually broke away from flirting with Kim and condescendingly told Louise, “Aw, how sweet. You went to be a doctor.” “No!”, Louise retorted, “Lulu doctor!” The interned chuckled, then resumed his conversation with Kim. “She’s a stubborn one, isn’t she”, He smiled while placing his hand over Kim’s shoulder. Kim nodded, “Yeah, Lulu can be difficult to handle at times.” Louise kept interrupting the conversation about being a doctor and held against her will. Finally Kim brought the bottle to Louise’s lips, telling her, “Now Lulu, please be quiet and drink your bottle and let the adults talk.” Kim turned to the intern, “It’s really sweet that she wishes to have a career in medicine but in all honesty she doesn’t have the aptitude for anything other than some low level type of employment.” The intern smiled as he handed Kim his phone number, “The world does need waitresses and housekeepers.” Louise tossed the bottle at the intern, “Me went outta here now!” Kim sternly gazed at Louise, “That’s enough baby!” In front of the intern and patients, Kim removed Louise from the wheelchair, and brought her to a bench. Tugging down the diaper, Kim began spanking Louise to a chorus of laughter from the patients. The very same patients that Louise Devoux had deemed inferior outrageously laughing as Kim’s hand bounced off her fat butt-cheeks. Kim politely excused herself from the intern and tossed Louise back into the wheelchair, bringing her back to the nursery.  
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