Set of shrinking women videos on YouTube and TFs and clothing

Waiting for a callback from my insurance company, I went on YouTube and, feeling a little perverted, I did a search on “shrinking nude.” This led me to a great set of videos

There are only eight videos, but I enjoyed them greatly — though my being a male and the women in them have a habit of ending up scantily clad (and even downright naked in some of them, though no naughty bits really show) probably has a lot to do with my high ratings.

The first one, “PP Shrinking 01,” is from Process Productions Presents and isn’t bad, though it’s silent. It has a woman drinking something and she begins to shrink. It’s mostly her grimacing, reacting to her change in size. If you want to indulge a kid with the shrinking fetish, this is the one to go with.

The next four are all from Trending Media. Again, no naughty bits are shown, but there are some great scenes of the women struggling with WAY oversized undergarments. There are some especially nice scenes of the women trying to stay decent in some XXXXXXXXXL shorts.

The three remaining videos are all anime. The first is from a series called Ghost Sweeper Mikami, about a woman (girl?) who goes after monsters, spirits, etc, and fights them. Her catch phrase is, apparently, “I’ll send you to Heaven.” This episode is a continuous shrinking episode for the title character. Her male assistant (?) first goes out to get her doll clothes, but she eventually shrinks out of them. In addition, the same demon who shrinks her causes all the animals in the area to attack all humans, making a lot of danger for Ms. Mikami.

Then, there’s 우당탕탕 닥터지 14 which is the best it translates to. It’s about a Dr. Slump-ish scientist who accidentally shrinks his girlfriend? boss? head of department? This has a brief glimpse of the woman’s naughty bits after she’s shrunk. One curiosity about this one is that the shrinking is done by a ray which apparently affects flesh and bone, but not clothing. Huh.

Finally, the last is Japan Animator Expo 06 – 20 min from Nishi Ogikubo Station. The woman in this is naked most of the time. When her man looks at her, he sees a cockroach! Did not like the ending of this on several levels, but the shrinking fans might.

Oh, and two of these have scenes giantess lovers are going to, well, love. In one of them, the woman is naked, but keeps herself decent.

I’m also going to post this in my blog, but I just wanted as many people to see it as possible.

Just re-read this while editing it. Did I focus too much on nudity in the videos? I’m sorry. I just KNOW seeing skin is something NO shrinking woman fan is really interested in.


This brings me to a subject I’ve been meaning to deal with for some time: Transformations and clothing. In the past, many times (especially in cartoons, but also things like Bewitched and Sabrina the Teenage Witch), when someone is turned into an animal, their clothing changes with them, or the duds just disappear.. They could still be posed like what they were turned into when they change back. (My all-time favorite reversion scene in Bewitched was in the episode “The Catnappers,” where a beautiful client of Darrin’s is turned into a cat by Endora; she changes back when she is sitting on Darrin’s lap, and, STILL on his lap, is holding her hands like paws, her head tucked up against his body. I could not find this scene online. It’s worth looking up the episode for the scene alone. She is dressed — differently from what she was wearing when she turned feline — but it’s still a good and rather sexy scene.)

One annoying thing to me with the Disney movie The Princess and the Frog is that, when Tiana changes into the frog, she has clearly shrunk out of her clothes.

But (minor spoiler alert) when she turns human again at the movie’s end, she is fully clothed!

I know, again, kid’s movie. But they could’ve found a way to conceal her and kept up the continuity of the movie. But they probably felt that would’ve stretched things out too far.

Now, in the movie Captain Sindbad, an enjoyable film with Guy Williams (between Zorro and Lost in Space), a princess wants to be turned into a bird. To do this, the wizard performing the spell tells her to take off her clothes because he can’t “grow feathers on silk!” The movie was released in 1963, so all we saw was the princess from the shoulders up, and then a flame-obscured outline as she dwindled to her bird form. (A “flame bird” we were told, which explained the transformation.) Later, she ends up in the closed hand of the movie’s villain, and she is nude, but the fingers keep her decent. Then, it’s back to the flaming outline with the wizard waiting with a blanket for when she reverts to human.

I know, I’m basically saying, for some people (maybe a lot?) part of the appeal of transformation is seeing the transformed eventually changed back into themselves and finding that they’re naked — maybe in public.

Anyone for ENF?

And, some might enjoy the idea of being transformed BECAUSE they can move around naked, in public, among friends and family.

There’s a lot more to say on this subject and I will probably do so someday.

Betty & Veronica spooktacular

Archie just came out with a Betty and Veronica Hallowe’en Spooktacular which is not bad in terms of transformations.

In the first story, which is new, the friends find a witch’s hat which can perform actual magic. It’s used on Cheryl Blossom, but only to turn her hair green. There’s a wealth of things I would’ve turned Cheryl into, but this is all we got.

Then, there’s a Sabrina story in which, because she decides to not attend the family Hallowe’en celebration, Sabrina is turned into a monster with a bulbous, four-eyed body. (Two if the eyes are on stalks growing out of her head.) Sabrina manages to cope with the change, and the story has a good ending.

But the highlight of the comic is a reprint of the story “The Mystery of Dr. Klawz,” which first appeared in Life with Archie (original series) No. 248. In this story, Archie and Veronica encounter the mysterious character, who has a potion that can turn people into cats. We get to see Veronica transformed. No panels showing stage-by-stage of the change. But it isn’t bad.

Decades ago, I mentioned Betty and Veronica on the message board for an AR website and someone accused me of being a “stunted asshole.” Maybe. But Dan DeCarlo, the classic Betty and Veronica artist, was a very talented girlie cartoonist before he worked for Archie. I’ve no regrets about still being turned on by the pair. If you feel the Riverdale girls are beneath you, just skip over this post.

Moms and transformations

I think this little scene is what got me started with transformations:

This was the end of the Little Rascals/Our Gang short “Beginner’s Luck.” In this scene, Spanky has just finished a hilarious performance of Marc Antony’s requiem for Caesar from Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. Spanky’s mother, embarrassed by the performance, was trying to pull Spanky off the stage, when HER mother drops the curtain and snags Spanky’s Mom’s dress, leaving her on stage in a slip in front of an audience full of moms, dads, and kids. Spanky tries to come to her aid by shoving a piece of art in front of her. Instead, it ends up looking as if she’s got the body of an animal. (You can see the whole scene as it happens)

This inspired many years of fantasies for me with the same set-up: A mom, transformed, maybe humiliated, maybe not fully dressed. Not quite a quarter-century later, it led to one of the first ever pages of transformation art I’ve ever commissioned. The art is lacking in quality, and some stains have popped up on the second image. But it only cost $15. Here it is, from late 1982:

One panel of this is in my DeviantART gallery. I’ll admit, this is kind of sick, moreso than stuff I would later commission. I eliminated the first panel which explains the “why” of the transformation, to avoid any “Oh, my God, it’s — ” reactions. And I also eliminated the last panel, as it’s more than a little embarrassing. The artist didn’t know how dogs mount each other. As a result, what he drew is a LOT more hardcore than I’m comfortable with. So, this is all you get, I’m afraid. Sorry

In the second season of I Dream of Jeannie , an episode called “My Master the Author” has a scene in which Jeannie turns an overbearing mother into a goose. The episode is called “My Master the Author.” The mother is of the battle-ax variety, not terribly sexy. But it inspired other fantasies. (I’d include a link to the episode, but the only one I can find starts with some pretty loud advertisements. If anyone wants to look this episode up themselves, go ahead. And, if anyone can find a clip of just the transformation itself, and the reversion, let me know.)

This part of the fetish has instilled in me a love images such as this:

Hi! I’m Bree! I’m on an adult pay website along with other mature ladies. Contact FMTFluver if you want to know more.

A woman, naked, on all fours, an expression of dismay or puzzlement on her face, obviously just changed back into a human, but wearing as many clothes as whatever animal she had just changed back from being would’ve had on. (In the case of this image, I also like the effect gravity has on breasts of this size.)

Ms. Quinn was pleased with the outfit she’d made for her daughter to wear in the talent show. She was holding it and admiring it when her daughter’s friend, Amorilla, came in the house.

“I’m sorry, but Phoebe isn’t here right now,” said Ms. Quinn.

“What’s that ugly costume for?” asked Amorilla.

“Ugly!?” said Ms. Quinn, angry to hear all her hard work dismissed so bluntly. “Are you trying to get my goat?”

Amorilla had never heard the expression before and it made her smile. “Get your goat? Like this?”

Ms. Quinn was puzzled as Amorilla made some gestures with her fingers. Then then, Ms. Quinn felt strange. Her field of vision dropped, and her clothes felt looser. She realized her face was pushing itself out. She was getting more of a snout than a nose. She suddenly dropped the outfit because her hands had changed — into hooves? And she felt her breasts receding, emptying from the industrial-strength bra she’d worn that day. What’s more, her breasts were moving, sliding, down her body, and merging into one — though one with multiple teats on it.

“What’s happening to me?” was what Ms. Quinn meant to say. Instead, a bleat came out of her mouth.

She also realized her legs had changed, no longer filling her pantyhose. This meant she could no longer stand. She tried crawling on the sofa she was sitting on — and crawled out of her clothes. All she had on was her necklace, ring, and some other bits of jewelry.

Amorilla took a small mirror to of her handbag and held it up to Ms. Quinn. Looking in it, Ms. Quinn did not see her reflection, not the reflection she was used to, but that of a moderate-sized, definitely cute little goat.

She was a goat!

Ms. Quinn jumped down from the couch and began running around panicking, bleating. What was she going to do? A rumble could be heard coming from her belly.

“Oh, Ms. Quinn! Haven’t you eaten yet?”

The goat shook her head. Amorilla gestured again with her fingers. Suddenly, appetite swelled inside the goat. But for what? Grass? Grain? No, something else.

Then, she noticed the clothing she had stepped out of when she was no longer a woman. She sniffed at the articles, and then began to nibble at them!

This isn’t right! She thought. Goats don’t actually eat clothes! Or did they, she wondered, as she began eating her undershorts — her USED undershorts! Her dress, and her bra, the bra she liked so much after carefully looking all the bras in the store over, one of her favorite pieces of clothing — it was all entering her belly. Even the metal! But she didn’t care.

Finally, she began to eat the costume she’d worked so hard on.

“What a good goat you are!” grinned Amorilla. “Now, would you liked to be milked? I’ll bet we could get some good cheese made from it!”

Ms. Quinn bleated again, and looked around for a place to escape. She ended up getting back on the couch, where she stood and looked imploringly at Amorilla. The girl took pity on the goat and gestured at her again. A moment later, Ms. Quinn, naked on all fours, but herself again, looked quizzically from the coach. She remembered her “goat-hood,” but knew she’d never be able to repeat a word of it to anyone.

The term “industrial strength” was used for various products, insecticides, cleansers, and the like, in the 1980s. I always liked it and decided to use it in this.

The only thing I might’ve done differently is Amorilla could’ve been a little boy. Maybe because of Spanky’s presence in the earlier short, I’ve a fondness for little boys with magic doing things to grown women. But, let me make it clear, yes, the boys often find themselves in the presence of a nude woman, which the boys like. But they don’t know what to do with her and that’s where it ends. I asked for some examples of mom transformations on y DeviantART journal, and Gen-Awesome had this to say:

There’s Queen Elinor, mother of Merida, turning into a bear in “Brave”. Or Queen Uberta, mother of Prince Derek being transformed into various animals in “The Swan Princess 2”. Princess Daphne, mother of 13 children getting turned into a monster in the climax of “Dragon’s Lair 2: Time Warp”.

If you count Step-Mothers, Lady Tremaine gets turned into a frog at the end of “Cinderella III: A Twist in Time”.

I do count step-mothers, and mothers-in-law, which makes this scene appropriate:

Then, there’s instances of moms undergoing age regression. I once had a couple of pages done (they’re in storage right now and not accessible) of Ann Romano (Bonnie Franklin in the original One Day at a Time) being turned into a baby and having to be nursed by one of her daughters. Ann was in advertising and, therefore, in competition with Bewitched‘s Darrin Stephens. Anyway, that idea eventually led to this four-page set here, using characters who are NOT mine, and I in no way claim ownership of them.

Possible AR, Page 1
Possible AR, Page 2
Possible AR, Page 3
Possible AR Page 4

I know, if anyone following my blog also follows my DeviantART gallery, they’re seeing a lot of repetition here. But, in this case, I felt the subject made the repetition work.

Also, I’m working on a script for another commission (with OC, not THESE characters) which will take the age regression and mother – daughter relation one step further.

And, speaking of transformations, moms, and daughters, it isn’t always the mom who has to be transformed:

“I’m sorry, but if I don’t hold on to SOMETHING I’ll fall off!”
“Is that why you aren’t riding side-saddle?”

There’s more on this subject, and I’ll tackle it later.

Career Day

I felt I should have a caution before anyone reads this story. It has a situation in which underage characters see a nude adult woman. There is no sex involved. This is an idea inspired by the Little Rascals/Our Gang short “Beginner’s Luck,” which ends with Spanky’s Mom ending up on a stage in her slip before an audience of kids and adults. The story also involves the same woman turned part dog and having sex with a dog. I’ve had great reservations about posting this story and may take it down if there are complaints about it. For those still interested, go for it.

It was Mother’s Career Day at Jefferson A. Elementary School.  Several students had brought in their moms to talk about what the mothers did for a living.  So far, there had been a a weather lady , firewoman, a factory forewoman, and a psychologist.  But the highlight so far was definitely Claire Garner, the head of Garner Cosmetics, the biggest employer in the small town of Coesse.  Claire was using the speech to promote her new line of perfumes, and she was every bit as strong (and subtle) as a politician running for office.  Most of the girls were entranced by what she was saying, and each one of them was dreaming of working for Claire one day.

Except for one:  Beth Garner, Claire’s daughter.  She was embarrassed by the way her mother carried on, especially every time her mother pointed Beth out in the class, which was many times.  Beth wished that Claire paid as much attention to her at home.

Claire finally finished her presentation, and Mrs. Frederickson, the teacher, called on Georgie Nelson, who walked up to the front of the classroom by himself.  He was carrying a very ornate bottle in his hand. 

“Georgie,” said Mrs. Frederickson.  “Where is your — ”  She hesitated.  She knew Georgie was an orphan.

Before Georgie could answer the question, a very striking woman entered the classroom.  Claire was startled both by the sudden appearance by, and the appearance of, the woman.  She had never seen anyone so beautiful.  The woman was almost — otherworldly.  The woman had a pet carrier with her.

“Do you have an animal in there?” asked Mrs. Frederickson.

“Yes,” said the woman, noticing that this teacher was looking at her a little intently.  “It’s here to help me demonstrate what I can do.”

“Are you a veterinarian?”

“No, I’m a djinn.”

“A djinn?” said Susie Parker, one of the girls in the class.  Mrs. Frederickson and the other women in the room looked among themselves and snickered.

“A djinn is what you probably call a genie,” said the woman.

Everyone in the class laughed.  Georgie and Aunt Ginni looked at each other and smiled.

“This is my Aunt Ginni,” said Georgie.  “And she is a djinn.”

“You don’t look like any genie I’ve ever heard to,” said Claire in a voice of disbelief.

“And how do you think a genie should look?” asked Aunt Ginni.

“Oh, shoes with curled toes, harem pants, arm bracelets, a little vest, and maybe or maybe not a top under the vest.”

“You mean like this?”

Aunt Ginni extended her arm at Claire and made some gestures with her fingers.  Suddenly, all the children were staring at Claire.  The mouths of some of the boys dropped open.  Claire looked down at herself and saw that, in place of the sensible but sensational outfit she’d chosen to wear for her speech, she had on the outfit she’d just described:  Shoes with curled toes, harem pants (SEE-THROUGH harem pants, and everyone in the classroom could see she was wearing nothing underneath), arm bracelets, and a vest, under which there was — NOTHING!  Except for the vest, she was topless.  

“I don’t know how you did this,” said Claire, coldly, to Aunt Ginni.  “But get this outfit off of me, NOW!”

“As you wish,” said Aunt Ginni with a smile.  Instantly, Claire could no longer feel her feet in the curled-toes slippers.  She was feeling the floor instead.  Claire didn’t feel the harem pants or anything.  Claire realized she had used the wrong words for her demand.  She was now standing completely naked in front of her daughter’s class, both girls AND boys, the teacher, and the other women!  Bulges were appearing in the crotches of some of the boys in the class.  Mrs. Frederickson looked a little overly excited by the sight, too, Claire thought.

By instinct, Claire covered herself with her arms, the left arm over her breasts and the right over her crotch.  As she did so, she saw one boy lean over to another and whisper, “I saw her pussy!”

Claire decided modesty be damned!  She made her hands into fists and walked up to her daughter, who had been given the duty of guarding Claire’s shoulder bag and sample case.  Claire reached into the bag and pulled out her cell phone,

“Boys and girls, you’re about to see an important lesson,” Claire said.  “This ‘Aunt Joanie’ — “

“Aunt Ginni,”  corrected Georgie.

“I don’t care.  She’s going to find out what a real bitch I can be when I want to  be one!”

Aunt Ginni said nothing, but smiled and gestured again at Claire.

“Hello, Fred?” said Claire.  “I want — ” suddenly, Claire dropped her phone.  She bent over to pick it up and heard the kids laughing loudly.

“She’s growing a tail!” cried one of the girls.  Claire, still bent over, glanced over her shoulder and found that there was indeed the tip of something furry over coming from the vicinity of the base of her spine.  She stood up and reached over to grab it.  But, when she pulled on it, it not only didn’t come off,  she felt pain when she pulled it.  And then, she couldn’t pull on it at all.  She looked at her hands and saw that her fingers were shrinking, becoming toes!  Instead of hands, she had forepaws, covered with skin instead of fur, but still paws.  And then fur, dull, white fur began to grow on the paws.  And on her arms.  And on her entire body.

“What’s ARF!-ening to ARF!” said Claire.  She put a paw to her mouth in surprise at — she couldn’t have barked!  “What ARF!  WOOF!”

Then, she saw her nose, her mouth extending from her face.  There was no pain, just the unreality of seeing her face changing.  She was getting a snout!  At the end of the snout, her nose was turning black!  Also, she could feel the tops of her ears starting to droop over and become longer.  (She was glad she had decided not to put on earrings today.)  Her thighs and shins were merging over her knees on each leg and her feet were changing.  She began to hear things she couldn’t before, and smells were stronger.  (And a roomful of fourth graders was a pretty strong smell.)

“Woof!  Mrrr-or!  Mrrr-or!” she said.  Then, Georgie gave the bottle to Aunt Ginni, who took out the stopper and turned the bottle upside down.  Something small and reflective fell out into Ginni’s hand.  She set the item on the floor and it grew into a full-length mirror.  Claire looked into it and whined.  Instead of her reflection, which she’d expected to see, even on all fours, Claire found a dog was looking out of the mirror back at her.  A poodle? she thought.

“Excuse me for just a second,” said Aunt Ginni, scooping Claire up into her arms (making Claire yelp in surprise) and taking her out of the classroom.  Everyone else in the classroom wondered what was going on, except for Georgie.  Aunt Ginni came back into the room without the dog.

“Where is she?” asked Beth.  “Where did you take her?”

“I took her to earlier today,” said Aunt Ginni.  “I had to take her into the vet and groomer just after they opened so they could arrange this.”

Aunt Ginni opened the carrier and pulled out what looked like another poodle.  But this one was groomed, trimmed except for tufts of hair on its feet, plus a “poodle do” on it’s head and frilly ears.  Plus, its fur was dyed pink!  And, it had a bejeweled collar around its neck and a tiny bow on its head.

“Where did you get this poodle?” asked the forewoman.

“Oh, it’s the same poodle I left with a moment ago,” said Aunt Ginni.  “Ms. Garner.  Like I said, I took her to a vet earlier so they could examine and groom her “

“That’s not really Ms. Garner!” said one of the boys.

 “It is. Watch!”

Aunt Ginni gestured at the poodle.  It began to change.  The ears “rolled up” until they were human ears.  She lost her snout and tail.  The bow and collar remained, though the collar grew as the poodle’s neck enlarged and, finally, what had been a dog was now Ms. Garner, completely naked and on all fours — except for the dog collar.  And the trimming had made some changes.

“She doesn’t have a pussy anymore!” cried the same boy who’d seen it before.  Claire, recovering from her change, couldn’t register what the boy was saying until she covered her vagina with her hand.  Her pubic hair was gone, shaved off when she was a poodle.  “Bald beaver” her ex used to call it.

The children, and the adults, were trying to stifle laughter.  (Claire was the richest, but not the most popular, woman in Coesse.  It seemed everyone was accepting what had happened to her, how she was really and truly a bitch, and they were enjoying it.)  Shakily, Claire crawled over to a nearby empty chair and sat down on it.  No sooner had she done so than she stood bolt upright again.  She massaged her butt and Aunt Ginni realized what had happened.

“Oh, yes,” said Aunt Ginni.  “At the vet’s she also got shots.  They also chipped her and took her temperature.”

Nearly all the women stifled laughs and some winced in sympathy as Claire slowly lowered herself back onto the chair.  

Then, one boy in the class raised his hand.

“Yes?” said Aunt Ginni.

“How are you Georgie’s aunt?” asked the boy.

“A good question, one that I think Georgie can answer best.”

“I think you all know,” Georgie started, “my Mom and Dad were killed in a car crash about seven months ago.  My Dad traveled all over the world on business and he had just bought the bottle with Aunt Ginni in it before he came back home.  That night, he and Mom went out to celebrate when they were hit by a drunk driver.  The bottle was something I got because I was their sole heir.  I have no other family and was going to be sent to an orphanage.  I was going through what they left me, and I opened the bottle, and Ginni came out.”

“Did your dad know that she was inside the bottle?” asked one classmate.

“I don’t think so,” said Aunt Ginni.  “No one had opened the bottle for centuries before Georgie opened it.”

“Aunt Ginni and I talked a lot,” said Georgie.  ” She answered a lot of questions.  And I found out, like in that old movie Aladdin, that djinns can’t bring back the dead.

“So I wished I didn’t have to go to the orphanage and Aunt Ginni arranged for me to win the lottery so I could afford to have a guardian.  Before that could happen, though, she stayed with me and we got to like each other.  So I wished that she could be my guardian, and she was able to make documents appear proving she was my Aunt.  I miss my Mom and Dad, but Ginni loves me and cares about me as much as they did.”

A girl raised her hand.  “That’s two wishes,” she said.  “Is she the kind of genie that grants only three wishes, or can you keep granting them?”

“Only three,” said Georgie.  “And I’ve used them all.”

Claire bolted from the chair and grabbed the bottle.  “I wish that everyone in this room who laughed at me would turn into, into PIGS!”

Nothing happened.

“I wish you were all pigs!” Claire repeated, apparently not caring that her own daughter would also be a pig.

Again, nothing happened.

Georgie smiled at Claire, then addressed the classroom.  “As I just said, I used my third wish.  I wished that, after I wasn’t around anymore, Aunt Ginni would be free.  So whether anyone has the bottle or not, Aunt Ginni isn’t granting wishes anymore.  Any magic she does is of her own free will.”

“And THIS is of my own free will!” said Aunt Ginni, with a voice like the rumbling of a volcano on the verge of eruption.

Aunt Ginni looked at Claire.  An unseen force took the bottle from Claire’s hands and it floated to the djinn’s side.  Claire got up from the chair and started for the door when she felt that unreality wash over her again.  She began to shrink, to change again, returning to canine form.  But she stopped sooner than when she had changed before.  The mirror where she had learned of her “dog-dom” before was still there.  

She walked up to it.  If the strangeness of being a dog had been hard to deal with before, what she saw now was beyond her ability to cope with it.  She was a hybrid of dog and human, a sort of dog sphinx!  Her head and her breasts were unchanged.  The rest of her was poodle.  Again, the class laughed at Claire.

“Oh, I almost forgot something I wanted to do,” said Aunt Ginni, gesturing at Claire.

Claire braced herself for another change.  But she looked in the mirror and nothing was happening.

Then she felt it.  Her temperature was up, her breathing more rapid.  She felt her privates heating up. She started to pant.  While she did so, she looked in the mirror and saw that her tongue was a dog’s tongue again and it was hanging long out of her mouth.

“What’s happening to me now?” asked Claire.

“You’re in heat!” said Aunt Ginni.


“Here, let’s not waste it!”

Another Ginni Gesture and there was another dog in the room.

“Is that my neighbor’s dog?” asked one boy.  “Ramrod?”

“RAMROD!?” said Claire.  While she was speaking, the other dog, a pit bull, had circled around behind Claire.  Suddenly, he had MOUNTED Claire and began to thrust eagerly into her.  “Oh my God,” said Claire.  “Oh.  MY.  GOD!!!

It looked like Ramrod was very happy.  Like Claire, he was panting heavily.  Claire had to admit to herself that the doggy sex felt good.  But she couldn’t help but notice that no one in the classroom was saying a word.  They were all too busy staring open-mouthed at the canine coitus.  Claire saw that went double for Beth.

Claire found she liked the sensation of her breasts jiggling under her while Ramrod was — ramming his rod into her.  And it did feel good, having that hot doggie penis sliding back and forth inside her.  She began to make soft moaning sounds, but they were getting louder.  Finally, at what the adults recognized as climax, Claire broke out into a full-volume HOWL!

The sex over, Claire laid on her side and stretched out her bitch body.  She was still panting, her tongue still hanging out of her mouth.  She had to hold her head up slightly so the tongue didn’t touch the floor.

“You are her daughter?” asked Aunt Ginni after Georgie whispered in her ear.  Beth nodded.  “Would you like to wait and see if she gets any puppies from this?”

Claire sat up at looked at her daughter, beseechingly.  To her relief, Beth grimaced.

“No!” said Beth.  “They’d be my brothers and sisters.  No!”

Claire, still panting a little heavily, got on her four feet and trotted up to Aunt Ginni.

“Please,” she said, standing before Ginni.  “First, can you send — Ramrod — back to his home?”

“You do not want seconds?” said Aunt Ginni.  Claire shook her head vigorously.  Aunt Ginni gestured and Ramrod vanished, confused, but happy to be back in his back yard.

“Now,” said Claire.  “Change me back.  Please!”

“I don’t know.  You might be an interesting entrant at a dog show.”

Claire thought about that idea with distaste.  Worse, what if the genie decided to leave Claire as she was?  She’d be a freak in the news, something that could never be the head of a billion-dollar corporation.  Then, Claire knew what she had to do to be changed back into herself.

“Please change me back,” Claire repeated.  And then, she balanced herself on her hind feet, held her forepaws limply in front of herself, and opened her mouth to let her tongue hang out.

“Begging!” laughed Aunt Ginni (along with both kids and adults in the room), clapping her hands.  “What a good dog you are!  I will be delighted to restore you to your true form!  But don’t move!”

Claire obeyed Aunt Ginni, worried that any movement would result in Claire’s returning to canine status.  Seconds later, Claire was herself again — still balancing on the balls of her feet, still letting her hands dangle at the end of her arms, still letting her tongue hang from her mouth.  She was a woman, but still begging like a dog.  She didn’t realize she was doing this until several of the people in the room, kids and adults, had taken pictures of her with their phones.

Claire regained her composure (as much as she could under the circumstances).  She stood up, shakily, and explored her body with her hands.

“Is all as you wish it to be?” asked Aunt Ginni.

“The only thing I wish now,” said Claire.  “Is to be as I originally was!”


Aunt Ginni gestured at Claire again.  Before Claire could ask what was happening, she began to shrink.  Her breasts were flattening into her chest.  Her legs were losing strength and balance.  With her tongue, she could feel her teeth sinking into her gums.  Claire had a bad feeling she knew what was happening to her, one confirmed when she ran her hands over her head in felt that what hair she had was fine and soft.

Before she stopped dwindling, Claire crawled back in front of the mirror.  As she’d feared, what looked back at her was the very young (newborn?) Claire Garner.  And this baby was aware of one thing in particular.  Her stomach was empty!

Everyone had to cover her ears when Baby Claire began to wail.  

“Is she that upset about being a baby?” asked one girl.

“I don’t think that’s it,” said Aunt Ginni.  She asked Beth “Do you know how long it’s been since she’s eaten?”

“Probably not since breakfast,” said Beth.  “She usually skips lunch.”

“That just isn’t healthy for a baby.”  Aunt Ginny held up an open hand, and a full baby bottle materialized in it.  “Would you like to feed your mother?”

“Sure,” said Beth laughing.  “But first, could you put an outfit on her?  A pink and white baby dress, a cute little bonnet, booties, and, oh, yes!  A diaper!”

Aunt Ginni laughed and waved. Beth, now holding her infant mother and the baby bottle, to the front of the mirror.  In a reverse strip tease, the diaper, booties, dress, and bonnet appeared on Baby Claire.  Beth gave out a soft “Awwww!” and turned so everyone could see the baby.  All the females in the room (and some of the boys) repeated Beth’s “Awwww!” as Beth sat down and put the nipple of the bottle in her mother’s mouth.  Beth did reflect for a moment on the weirdness of bottle feeding her own mother.  But she knew the natural way babies are fed and decided this was better than feeding her mother THAT way!

“Aunt Ginni,” said Georgie.  “Schools’ almost over for the day.”

Aunt Ginni looked at the clock and nodded her head.  “It was nice meeting all of you.  In case you’re wondering, part of you will remember what you’ve seen here today, but you will not be able to speak of it with anyone outside of this room.  Nor can you record it in anyway. I’m afraid the pictures you took of the begging Claire will vanish from your phone. But, I’ve enjoyed being myself in this class for all of you today, and especially for Georgie.”

“What about Mom?” asked Beth.  

“After she finishes her bottle, after you have returned to the inside of your home, she will regain her true age.  And SHE, more than anyone else, will remember what happened in this classroom.  Because, as with any classroom, she has been taught a lesson.”

The school bell rang and everyone began to file out of the classroom.  It was Friday and everyone was ready start the weekend.

And they all remembered what Aunt Ginni’s job was.

Forty-seven years in the making

Back in 1973, a movie was released called “A Touch of Class.” It was a very grown-up rom-com in which this woman, Vickie Allessio (played by Glenda Jackson)

decides to have an affair with Steve Blackburn (played by the late George Segal), who is married to Gloria (played by Hildegard Neil). I did not see the movie until 1974, hence the title for this post.

Perhaps the most intense scene in the movie does when Vickie unleashes a tirade against Steve. (It was intense enough that it got Ms. Jackson her second Best Actress Oscar.) It happens after she discovers that he was out with his wife after cancelling a date with Vickie. Among other things, she tells him that he should’ve been born a cestode worm.

It took some research to find that scene online, and then to find out exactly what a cestode worm is. (And to keep spell-check from turning “cestode” into “restore.”) It turns out that a cestode worm is a kind of tapeworm. And the reason she tells him that’s what he should’ve been is that a cestode worm is a worm with the organs of both sexes. Therefore, Steve could’ve spent his life “copulating with himself.”

That line has stayed in my demented mind ever since. And, I eventually came up with a story in which Gloria turns out to be a witch. She doesn’t mind Steve cheating on her. He’s rather insatiable, and having affairs with other women saves Gloria a lot of time in bed — though, when she does agree to sex, she enjoys it.

But she does not care for other women putting Steve in his place. Gloria found out about Vickie accusing Steve of being a human cestode worm. And Gloria decided to put Vickie in HER place.

This is another comics page done for me by the wonderful LadyKraken, who, again, has a DeviantART page here and a Patreon page here:

Anyway, here is the story of Gloria’s meeting with Vickie about this matter. I’ve had worm women drawn before, but this one is darker in that Vickie doesn’t have any limbs in her new form. But don’t worry about her too much, she’s enjoying herself.

Book review: The Shrinking and Tiny Woman Collection by Amber Collins

It has only been very recently that I found out about Amber Collins. On Amazon, she is described as a microphiliac and an macrophilic — a writer of stories about people shrinking and about people growing.

This collection has fourteen stories in it, all of them about people, especially women, shrinking. And, first thing to know: These are NOT stories for kids!

Most of these stories are very adult in nature. Ms. Collins is fond of describing women being shrunken down to six inches or less and entering the vaginas of other women, moving around to make them climax, and the enjoying the flow of the juices washing over them.

I also would not read more than one story at a time. They’re all good stories and I enjoyed them. But, read one after another at a time and things might get a little repetitive.

I will say, for stories about people shrinking, and about the people shrinking the people, these are relatively non-violent. Especially if the shrinking is caused by accident, the people around the reduced are out to take care of them. And they’re rewarded with what they, and the shrunken ones, regard as great sex. The only exception to this rule is the last story in the book, “Get Off Get Small,” in which the two main characters are not nice people, and they go out of their way to think or do nasty things to each other.

Also, the books don’t care about the main rule set forth in Richard Matheson’s The Shrinking Man (turned into the movie The Incredible Shrinking Man) — in nature, there is no zero. At least two stories mention people who shrink to nothing.

Some of the stories have shrinking caused by rays and outside forces so the clothing shrinks with the person. Others have people shrunk by gases, potions, etc, and so they have to deal with being engulfed by their suddenly too big clothes. And there are a lot of tiny naked people walking around (or sometimes being picked up and carried around in these stories. And, as a metamorphiliac, I know there are people for whom those images alone will cause the most sensual sensations to wrack their bodies.

This book can be found on Amazon both in paperback and Kindle at

I learned too late that this and its follow-up volume have been combined into a single book. You can also find it on Amazon, though it’s easier to find and order the Kindle edition than it is the paperback, at least for the poor cyber-illiterate that I am. But give the books a try. If you like shrinking and sex as story topics, you’ll love these books.

The Transformation Critics

I am well aware, and always have been, that there are people who do NOT like transformation stories or art. I’ve been at comic book and science-fiction shows where I’ve commissioned art of people turning into different things. (There was one show where I met an artist for the first time (she’s quite successful now) who, after telling her what I want, said “I’ve heard about you!”) One person who knew me picked up a description I’d written for an artist, said “What’s this?!” before reading and dropping it and apparently glowering in my direction at another table, though I was unaware of any this at the time. And, I know of at least one sticker/plaque on DeviantART that reads “I HATE transformation art!”

But I recently discover on YouTube TWO videos by the same guy displaying transformation art he’s found on DArt, and critiquing/complaining about it. He has put up a bad cartoon drawing of a man to be the “host” and then proceeds to look carefully and complain about some elements (fuzziness/poor anatomical positioning of the altered body parts) on the altered photo morphs. And he also rants about the comments, most of those comments being positive, which he doesn’t understand.

Of course, he considers people who would morph such images or are into transformations to be complete losers. But, how much of a loser would YOU have to be to look for such images, post them, and comment on them? It’s the same sort of person who regards people who’ve undergone transgender surgery (not the same as what I said I wasn’t into earlier; if you are into such things, more power to you and enjoy your life) as bad people who they don’t understand and that shouldn’t be allowed to exist.

I am not putting the name of this person in this post or even the key words he used in his titles of his videos. I prefer to condemn him to obscurity.

My message is, yes, there are people who really, actively hate transformations and its fans. Let them, but don’t ever let them make you feel small because of the interest. Just walk away, get on with your life, and let them wallow in theirs.

The title is at the end

I’ve had this written for some time, but was waiting to be able to afford art for it, something that was taking a LONG time. Finally, a friend, as a birthday present, paid Lady Kraken (who has a DeviantART page here and is on Patreon here and she does wonderful work) to do art for this story. Be warned, this is a DARK story. And, please, forgive this poor author’s attempt at an accent in the story.

As she took her seat next to her friends, Loretta felt the excitement building inside her.   Her parents would not approve, she knew.  But here she was, seated in the basement of a pub, barely lit by candles.  The place smelled of sawdust, stale beer, and — was that mold?  She grasped the hand of Fred, seated next to her.  She glanced at Frieda and Rupert on the other side of him.  Elsewhere in the basement were others, some respectable, some not so much.  But then, no respectable person should be here.  That’s what made it such fun.

A girl walked out in front of the stage.  She was gaunt, might have been pretty once.  She was dressed in what looked like a maid’s uniform, someplace upstairs in a household, Loretta guessed.  The outfit was clean, though threadbare in places.  It was still presentable, if faded.  Loretta began think of her as a maid.  She had some freckles on her face.  She carried herself with dignity.  But she was sad.  Unbearably, heart-breakingly sad.

“Thank ye, everyone, fer coming,” she began, speaking with an accent.  “I call meself Niobe.”

“Niobe?” said Loretta.  “Like the woman in Greek Mythology?”

“Aye.  I went by another name in th’ household where I worked, a household th’ name o’ which ye would recognize.  It is a name I no longer use to spare th’ reputation o’ the family I worked for. 

“I was maid t’ th’ youngest daughter o’ the house, a position I filled wi’ pride.  This daughter, Maisie, loved me ‘n’ I her.  The lady o’ the house was devoted to her elder daughter, Lily.  The lady trusted me t’ focus on Maisie, which I was glad t’ do.

“Not long ago, the lord o’ the house passed away.  T’ the dismay o’ us all, he left behind debts, sizable debts.  Many o’ th’ family’s possessions were taken away.  Others in service t’ th’ family left fer payin’ positions. I stayed on out o’ love for me charge ‘n’ loyalty t’ th’ family.  But it got t’ where th’ home itself were in danger o’ bein’ taken from us, unless a source o’ money could be found.

“That was when Lily began t’ attract Alexander — not his real name. Alexander’s mother were great friends wit’ milady, ’n’ they had been so since their own childhoods.  When milady married, Lily ’n’ Alexander grew to be close.  Alexander were was goin’ t’ visit wit’ his mother toward arrangin’ a match.  Th’ mother, Francine, knew o’ milady’s situation, but she approved o’ the match.  There was only th’ visit t’ formalize everythin’. 

“But first, we had t’ prepare th’ house fer th’ visit.  Milady, Lily, Maisie, ’n’ meself did all we could.  Everythin’ was dusted, windows were washed, floors, even stairs were swept.  Maisie even helped me clean th’ chimney ‘n’ make sure it was in workin’ order.  Maisie ‘n’ I laughed when we looked in th’ mirror t’ see our faces covered in soot.  The visit was just days away ‘n’ we inspected th’ house from top t’ bottom.

“It was when I entered th’ pantry that I screamed.

“There, on the pantry shelves, counters, ’n’ floor, were rats.  Big, fat, black rats.  I grabbed a broom ’n’ swatted at ’em, but that only made ’em scatter int’ hiding.  We’d seen at least a half-dozen ‘n’ knew there had t’ be more!

“The only thing fer it was t’ call the rat-catcher.  But how t’ pay him, t’was the thing.  The rat-catcher for our neighborhood was Guiseppe.  We knew his fee, but, after pooling our money together, e’en wi’ mine, we still were short o’ the required amount.  We called Guiseppe, ne’er th’ less.  He came and stayed in th’ house fer two days, usin’ traps, his little dog Snatcher, ‘n’ hisself.  By the end o’ that time, he assured us th’ rats were gone.

“Milady had put t’gether a purse tha’ she hoped would be equal in weight t’ what was owed Guiseppe.  At th’ bottom, she put a note explaining th’ circumstances ‘n’ promisin’ an additional sum, double his normal pay, after th’ wedding.

“Uneasy t’was I a’ this subt’r’fuge, ‘n’ I let milady know it.  Guiseppe would want ‘is pay now, I said.  But milady went t’rough wit’ th’ lie.  She placed all hope on th’ weddin’.

“Milady handed Guiseppe the purse, ‘n’ he held it in his hand.  I knew he was weighin’ it.

“‘Signora,” he said softly to milady. “You know, don’t you, not to cheat the rat-catcher?’

“‘I promise,’ she lied, ‘Tis all there.’

“He made a smile that chilled my soul, bowed, and left.

“Alexander ‘n’ his mother came later that day.  Not long before they arrived, a package was delivered, a box o’ choc’lates fer Miz Lily, undoubt’ly from Alexander.  She smiled at th’ thought, but set th’ chocolates aside.  She were deat’ly allergic t’ chocolate, somethin’ she’d have t’ explain t’ Alexander later.  We had tea, with th’ best cakes I could make could make under th’ conditions.  Masterpieces, they were, if I say so meself.  I served ‘em, they loved ‘em, especially Maisie.  I had dressed ‘er so pretty, ’n’ she sat in ‘er chair like a goo’ girl, and keepin’ so quiet.  She clapped, as did all o’ us, when Alexander took t’ his knee to offer Lily a ring fer her hand in marriage.  Afterward, all o’ us left so Lily ’n’ Alexander could be by themselve fer a few minutes.

“I cleared th’ dishes ’n’ took ‘em in t’ wash ‘em.  Milady ’n’ Francine talked about plans fer th’ nuptuals, when, suddenly, there was a piercing scream o’ ‘‘Mother!’  I knew right away t’were Maisie.  I ran t’ th’ pantry, gettin’ there th’ same time as everyone else, followin’ th’ cry.  There on th’ floor, all spilt out from the box, were th’ chocolates.

“‘Those are the chocolates you sent me!’ says Lily.’

‘I sent you no chocolates,’ said Alexander.

“‘Guiseppe — th’ ratcatcher,’ says I.

“’N’ there, next t’ th’ box o’ spilt chocolates — was THIS!”

Niobe went behind a curtain at the back of the stage. She came back out, holding a long chain of thick links, using it to lead a bizarre, terrible beast. On the other end of the chain was something the size of a young girl.  It was clothed like a girl, though in a dress that was filthy, soiled with dirt, a little blood, and — the audience preferred not to guess.

The back half of the creature was made up of, not legs, not human legs, but haunches.  A skirt covered them, but poorly, and, out from under the skirt, was a long, ropey tail that curled out from behind and ended in a point by the pitiful creature’s side.  Near it were— hands?  Paws?  They were covered in fur with long, unkempt nails at the end of the fingers-toes.

Most awful to look at was the head.  The hair was tousled, almost looking like the nest of some foul creature of the shadows.  The cheekbones were pronounced, moreso beside the all-too-still-human nose.  A pair of sharp incisors protruded beneath and above the lips.

The eyes were haunting.  They had sunken into the sockets, which created a hooded effect that made them seem luminous, but with an intimidating red glow. 

At first terrified, but unable to look away, Loretta stood up, as if to get near the cage.  She was startled back into her seat when the rat-girl lurched forward and hissed at her.

“Don’ approach her!” said Niobe.  “She has turned mean t’wards all save meself.  Her mother — th’ mother who ignored her, was going to love her fully one day after the older daughter was wed ’n’ saved th’ fam’ly — t’is b’cause o’ the mother that Maisie — is now this!

“Th’ engagement was canceled.  No one wants t’ add — Maisie — to their family.  Milady was found th’ next day, hangin’ from th’ bedframe, too ashamed at what her mach’ nations had done t’ Maisie.  Lily fled t’ country, ’n’ is tryin’ to make a life fer herself overseas.  Fer meself, I would not abandon my Maisie, not leave her by herself.  We still love each other and do what we can to support each other.with her.”

“But, can Maisie not be changed back? Is there anything we can do for her?” asked Loretta.

“There is a tin when you exit where you can leave money, if you wish.  But, no, Maisie cannot be what she was again.  The power contained in the chocolates was meant fer Lily, an adult, not a child.. It cannot be undone.  I should put Maisie out o’ her misery, I know, but — she is still me love, me girl, ‘n’ — I can’t do it!

After studying Maisie as closely as they dared for long minutes, the audience stood and prepared to leave, all of them taking out money to leave behind.

“And, remember this,” said Niobe. “Take this lesson with you as you leave here tonight ‘n’ take it t’ yer graves —

“Never Cheat the Rat-Catcher!!!”

Sharing the fetish

I’m in the middle of a year’s subscription to Naked News. And I decided to write to them and let them know about the transformation fetish. I don’t know if they’ll reply to it, but it’s worth a shot. The e-mail is as follows:

I’ve been thinking about sharing this with Naked News and its viewers for some time.  It’s my fetish, and I thought for a long time that I was the only one who had it.  Since that great purveyor of any fetish imaginable came along, The Internet, I’ve learned there are others like me, enough that I’ve created a blog devoted to the fetish.  

But first, the blog’s (and the fetish’s) manifesto:

Then, there’s the entire blog.  Be warned, some of what’s on it might offend the shy maidens who work for you.  There’s one entry especially, “A line that shouldn’t be crossed?” involving a female mountie.

I also have a gallery on  And, BOY, if you really want to find a place for every fetish imaginable, go here and do a search!  You might have to buy a membership (and let them know you’re an adult), but it’s worth it.  Do be aware, much of what’s in my gallery is art commissioned, but not drawn, by me.  There are pin-up photos I’ve collected over the years whose poses strike me as a woman just having been changed back from something else,  The text pieces in my gallery are by myself.

I’d be wiling to guess you have some viewers who share this fetish, though we’d like to see more of your anchors on all fours.

And, yes, I have to ask this:  Imagine if Darrin got caught watching Naked News.  And Endora, Serena, maybe even Samantha decides to keep the anchor being watched naked, but as a different species.  If any or all of your anchors had a choice to be an animal, what would they be?  Be careful.  I’d be kind of scared of what critters Laura or Tia might become.  (One rule I haven’t discussed yet in the blog:  Never turn someone into something that could KILL you!  A big cat or canine, a dragon, etc.  Though a giantess could be fun.  The guy in Monsters vs. Aliens was NUTS to dump Susan/Ginormica.)


That’s it. I’ll let everyone know if it gets mentioned.

My first TF photo shoots

People have noticed the photograph postings in this blog and the stories that accompany them. And, as some have done with the art posted in here, they ask how long have I been having these things done?

Well, this posting answers that question. Those old enough will recognize that I’m posting scans of photos that were taken back in the 1970s, 1976 to be exact! The model thought I was a little crazy (little did she realize that I was a LOT crazy!), but went along with it. This was the only shoot where I was actually in the room with the model, so I had a little more control that in later shoots, where the model was doing a mail order commission

Among other things, I was not yet secure enough in the fetish to tell her to act as if she were being turned into an animal. Instead, the story was that she was being hypnotized.

At the beginning, she’s told her boyfriend (or girlfriend, if you prefer) has learned hypnosis. The woman mocks the person, but begins to go under. (And, yes, I had to assure the model that I wasn’t really a hypnotist and that I wouldn’t be able to make her do then things I would have her do in the “story.”

Aw, come on, you’re not really a hypnotist!
You are getting sleepy! Sleepy!
When I count to three, you’ll be —

And now, the woman, sound asleep, does what the hypnotist tells her to do. Namely, take off her clothes!

Now, you’re getting very uncomfortable in those clothes! You’re so uncomfortable that you’re removing them!

Finally, she is naked! The hypnotist takes a moment to take in her looks.

And now — and now …

And then, the TF fan inside him takes over. This woman had been a bitch to him, now she will be a bitch FOR him!

Arf! Arf, ARF!

And that’s all I have now, sadly. There were more photos, more poses, such as the model posing as a baby, a monkey, a chicken. And, with the last pose, as she was looking at the ground for a worm or seed, a car backfired outside and snapped her out of her trance! And she proceeded to beat the crap out of the hypnotist.

What happened to the rest of the photos is that I had a roommate in college at the time who disapproved of my fantasies. One day, while I was gone, the roommate threw away the photos. Luckily, these were developed separately (at a photography store, which had no problem doing nudes), so I still have them.