Thank you, Al Capp

This post is about a single Sunday comic strip that ran in newspapers on May 31, 1964.

I’m not sure when I started reading Li’l Abner. I remember that my mother liked it very much. I did, too, but, sometimes, it could freak me out greatly. And the Sunday strip I’m writing about did that VERY well.

While I’m heavily into transformation, I do recognize that it has a dark side to it. Many of DC ‘s horror titles had stories where a person is transformed, usually as some sort of punishment, and then killed after being transformed. I remember all too well when an evil seaman was turned into a crab and then killed. What I remember most is that his arm had a tattoo what was still visible on his claw after he changed.

In this strip’s storyline, the main character was Nightmare Alice, a witch who lived in or near Abner’s home of Dogpatch. She had magic powers which she could use as her whims and stories required.

The May 31, 1964 installment of Li’l Abner was the concluding strip for a storyline that had run for, roughly, four weeks. In it, Nightmare Alice is discovered by a television producer, Alfred Witchdoc. The name was an obvious parody of Alfred Hitchcock, but the show the strip’s storyline was inspired by was probably ABC’s The Outer Limits, which had a “bear” (a monster) in most episodes of its first season.

The plot of the storyline was that Witchdoc pretended to love Nightmare Alice (whom he, like most people, found to be hideous) to trick her into creating monsters for his TV show. This led the show to be a big hit. But, by the end of the next-to-last strip in the story, Alice had to leave to go shopping and she creates a double of herself to welcome Witchdoc and be with him while she’s out. But Witchdoc is in an accident that seriously injures him.

This last strip begins with the secretary picking up “the monster,” following Witchdoc’s orders given by him before his accident. Nightmare Alice, of course, upon learning of Witchdoc’s accident, hops on her broom to fly to the hospital to be with him.

But, when she arrives, she encounters a nurse who is probably under strict orders to let NO ONE into Witchdoc’s room. But Alice simply changes the nurse.

This was the first point where the story disturbed me. There was nothing to indicate later on that Nightmare Alice changed the nurse back. And a hospital and its sterile environment would probably NOT be a place where an insect could survive for very long. But we just don’t know. We don’t see what happened to the nurse after her transformation. Of course, a comic strip, even a Sunday one, wouldn’t have space to answer those questions. And Abner‘s cartoonist/writer, Al Capp probably didn’t care.

Anyway, having arrived at the hospital and overcome the obstacle of the nurse, Nightmare Alice decides to relax by watcing television. Of course, she watches her boyfriend’s show, where the most hideous monster yet turns out to be her!

Nightmare Alice leaves, but not before she “fixes” Witchdoc. Now, I, and probably a lot of kids who read the comic, recognized what Witchdoc had been turned into a little (baby?) stegosaurus. And instead of finding it disgusting, I/we would’ve called a museum to come and fetch a living fossil, not thrown it out the window.

But the ideas spawned in this comic strip have stayed with me to this day. The poor nurse went into work at the hospital, not knowing that she would end her shift as a purple bug. Personally, I like to think that Nightmare Alice, as she was leaving, took pity on the nurse and returned her to her human form. (The two question marks by the bug after the transformation always indicated to me that the bug had enough of its human mind to be aware what had happened, and she might’ve been thinking something like “Mommy? Daddy? HELP!”)

As for Witchdoc, recovering from an accident, only to find himself transformed and thrown out a window to its probable death — that’s bothered me to this day.

I know, I’m probably WAY over-thinking the situation, but I can’t help it. That’s how my mind works. But if anyone else has thoughts on this, or even alternate outcomes to the fates of the transformed, please share them.

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 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 finger-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!!!”

Weiner-Dog Woman

I’ve had this idea for over FIVE DECADES now. I can’t say why it came to me. There was a woman who was the star of a sitcom back then. I later saw her in a made-for-TV-movie in q teddy, the first time I can recall seeing a teddy. And, for some reason, I pictured the transformation the woman in this story undergoes. (It’s been pointed out to me that it’s similar to what happened to Sarah Jessica Parker’s character in Mars Attacks! But that was done by alien surgery while this is definitely magic. And, as I said, I first had this idea over 50 YEARS ago, long before Mars Attacks! ) All I’ll say is I hope people who visit this blogs find it worth reading. And the art, once again, is by the wonderful Lady Kraken.

She didn’t sleep at all that night.  But that wasn’t so surprising.  After all, it was the first night after THE CHANGE.  She had no idea how the change happened.  Or why the change happened.

She’d been preparing for the night for weeks.  She had been exercising, getting every bit of unwanted fat off of her body.  Her legs, she thought, were fantastic!  Her breasts were perkier than they’d been in years.  This was going to be her first sex since Charlie had been killed by that damned drunk driver.  And, OOOOH, did she want Steve.  She’d found out what he liked, and she’d gotten everything.  A garter belt, unbelievably sexy nylons.  The most delicate perfume she could buy, but just a couple of dabs behind her ears.  Then, she slinked into the room where he was waiting, as anticipatory as she was, she knew.

And then — THE CHANGE. 

It happened so quickly.  Had there been an actual “poof?”  All she knew for sure was that things were so different!  It took several minutes for her to realize just what had happened to her.  The first difference she noticed, and how could she not, was that everything around her was suddenly higher.  Counters, chairs, the bed, nightstands.  Had they all grown?

Then, Steve began to chuckle.  Shirl turned to look at him.  And it took a little longer for her to do THAT!  Her legs and arms weren’t moving in the way she was accustomed to.  Her feet were different.  Her hands were strange.  She managed to look at them and was dismayed (and was ever a word insufficient to describe what she was feeling then) to find that she no longer HAD hands.  In their place were PAWS!  That’s when she decided to look herself over.  She looked over her shoulder and found that her butt, the bottom she’d worked so hard to make shapely and firm, was gone!  Instead was something muscular and covered by — hair?  Fur, brown fur?  And, in the middle of what she realized was now her bottom was something long and pointed!  It had been movcing fro side to side, but that stopped when she realized what it was.

“Wondering about yourself, Shirl?” asked Steve.  He got off the bed, stood up, towering over her.  He reached down, grabbed her by her mid-section, and picked her up.  He set her down on top of the dresser, right by a mirror that gave her a good view of what she had become.  She felt like screaming, letting the world know about the indignity of her new body.  But, instead, a long, high-pitched WHINE escaped from her nose.  A whine that matched her shape perfectly.  The whine of a  dachshund, which was what her body was now.  Her head was the same as it had been moments before, maybe a little smaller, proportionate to her body.  But that body had gone from that of a sexy woman, a woman all set to get it on with a man, to the elongated, short-legged body of a dachshund.

She instantly flashed in her mind on a movie from (that long ago, already?!) 25 years ago, Mars Attacks!  In it, a woman, the one from Sex in the City, had her head grafted onto the body of a chihuahua.  She had laughed at seeing it. at how it looked.  But she wasn’t laughing at this, and had a feeling she looked even more ridiculous as a dachshund, a — a weiner dog woman!

“How did this happen?” she cried.

“I have some theories.  I don’t share this with many people, but I guess you deserve to know.  My ex is a witch.  A real, live, spell-casting witch.  When we broke up, she accepted things fine.  But she had family members who did not.  And they’d be determined to see to it that any future partners wouldn’t get too far with me.  So, when they realized what we were getting ready to do, they may have decided to make sure I wouldn’t want to do it with you.  And, so, they did — THIS to you!”

As he was talking, a grin appeared on his face, accompanied by another chuckle.

“Steve!  You’re laughing at me?!  How could you?”

“I’m sorry, Shirl.  I’ve been looking forward to tonight as much as you have.  But to see your body go from that sexy sight to this, well, silly shape, it’s kind of funny.  I feel sorry for you, but, well, I can’t help but chuckle!”

And he did laugh at her.   And the situation was so hurtful to her that Shirl wanted to growl and bare her teeth and bite what she probably would’ve had in her mouth before she changed anyway.  But, if she changed back, that would’ve burned a bridge she wasn’t willing to burn just yet.  And, suppose it had happened to Steve.   Could she honestly say she wouldn’t have laughed?    

“Steve,” she said.  “Could you reach into my purse and bring me my phone?  I want to call Laurie.”

“Your daughter?”

“Yes.  Let’s face it, nothing is going to happen now.  You don’t want sex with me, I’m sure.”

“What about you?”

“I’m still horny, but in a wilder way.  I’m in heat, I guess.  And for that reason, I don’t want to go outside on my own.  I may be giving off a scent that would attract any male dog in the area!  It might solve being horny, but I don’t want to take a chance on any results.  You can keep the room, get drunk on the champagne, stream XXX movies, whatever you like.  You can even phone for a hooker if you want to.”

“No.  I wanted to be with you.  But you’re right, not like this.  If nothing else, I’d hurt you.

“I’ll call Laurie, and then my ex to see if she can get this fixed.”

Steve took Shirl’s cell phone and called Laurie’s number.  He had to hold the phone so Shirl could use it.  Fifteen minutes later, there was a knock on the door.  Steve opened it and there was Laurie

“What’s going on?” she asked.  “Mom wouldn’t say over the — “

Then, she saw her mother, who Steve had put on the bed.  Laurie also had an urge to laugh, but suppressed it, which wasn’t hard to do when she saw Shirl’s expression.

“Oh, Mom!” said Laurie.  “What happened?  How are you feeling?”

“I’m a damned wiener dog!”  said Shirl.  “I’m in heat, and I look ridiculous!  And, right now, I just want to go home  I’ll explain everything in the car.”

And so, Shirl wasn’t sleeping that night.  Her youngest, Evan, had the expected reaction when he saw his mother.  But, later, he knocked on the door and came into the room.

“Mom?” he said.  “I can’t sleep.”

“Neither can I, baby,” said Shirl.  “This is strange for both of us, isn’t it?”

“Uh-huh.  Can I get in bed with you?”

Shirl gave her consent and Evan got in the bed next to her, gently hugging her.  And, something about the arrangement, the proximity of the two to each other, the scent, something, had them both sleeping in fifteen minutes.

The next day was busy.  Everyone agreed that Shirl should see a doctor AND a veterinarian.  Luckily, Shirl knew two women who were each in one of those professions.  Even better, their practices, though in separate offices, were in the same building.  It was decided to bring Shirl in inside a pet carrier.  And, for that reason, they’d all meet at the office of Francine, the vet. 

Things were still awkward for Shirl.  She was taken into Francines business with a towel covering the front of the carrier.  

“Does he have something catching?  Or unusual?” asked another woman in the waiting room.

“Unusual,” said Laurie, who had brought her mother in.  (Evan was with them.)  “And it’s a she.”

“Is it a kitty or a doggy?” asked the little girl who was with the woman who asked the question.  

“Um, let’s say a doggy.”

“What’ve you got in there, a wolf cub?” asked a man holding a german shepherd on a leash.

“It’s hard to explain.”

“She’s not catching, is she?”

“No.  In fact, we’re probably going to get her a few shots.”

Before the man could ask why Laurie didn’t know if her dog should get shots or not, the shepherd had gone up to the carrier, sniffed the front, made a small “Woof!” and then pulled the towel off of it.  This made the shepherd look inside quizzically, then back up with a muted “woof!”

Everyone in the office looked at her.  Finally, the little girl said “Mommy?  Is that a lady in there?”

“I’m — I’m not sure, baby.  I don’t know what it is!”

“I do,” said the shepherd’s owner.  “It’s a humanimal.  There are less than a dozen cases around the world every year.  This is the first on I’ve seen up close!”

Shirl could think of nothing to say.  No one could.  But the shepherd’s owner whipped out his phone and took a picture of Shirlf.  To his satisfaction, he got a good image of her face with the dog body behind it.

“Hey!” said Evan.  “That’s my Mom!”

“And it’s a lot of hits for me on my webpage,” said the man.

Evan was getting mad, but a woman came out and told Shirl to come on back.

“You weren’t kidding!” said Magnolia, the general practitioner, in her light Southern accent.   “I’m not sure I’ve ever even heard of anything like this before.”

“I have,” said Francine, the animal doctor.  “It doesn’t happen too often, but it does happen.  You know there are a few magijc users, and very skilled ones at that.  You remember the story of the ostrich woman about 20 years ago?”

“I was a little girl then, only about eleven.  I thought it was something my aunt made up.  But it was real?”

“Very much so.  That lady’s in a combination zoo and asylum now.”

“I hope I don’t end up like that,” said Shirl.

“Any odd effects you can think of, Shirl?”

“The thing I’ve noticed most is an awareness that, instead of breasts, I have teats, I guess you’d say.  Six of them!  After I first changed, I was inclined to crouch down and hide them from everyone.  But I’m used to the diffrence now.” 

The examinations were thorough and not in any way routine.  Shirl’s temperature was taken both orally and anally.  She was given shots for rabies, distemper, and other canine diseases as a precaution.   There was nothing approved to kill the canine sex drive, and Magnolia didn’t want to try any human such drugs.  There were reservations about their uses as it was, and no way of knowing if they’d be safe for a dog to take.  All Magnolia and Francine could suggest was for Shirl to stay inside if she found herself in heat.

While her temperature was being taken, Shirl’s tongue slid out of her mouth. It slid all around her face, while Laurie watched in amazement and dismay.

“I’ve heard of this,” said Francine. “Seen it plenty of times. But it’s theorized that dogs will lick over their faces in times of stress. Probably, having your temperature taken like — that — would count.”

As they went to check out, Shirl knew she had no bill.  She’d agreed both doctors could write up the case, which would probably get them considerable acclaim and money.  And, outside, the man with the German shepherd had gone.  There were new patients there and all of them, both human and animal, gave Shirlf more than enough attention.

Francine had a slip for Shirl to take with her to prove she’d had all of her shots.  She also gave Shirl a dog tag and a collar, one long enough to fit around Shirl’s neck.

“Do I really need this?” Shirl asked.

“I checked, and it’s a gray area.  I recommend wearing it whenever you go outside.  And I’d also stay on a leash.”

“This is all so weird,” said Laurie.

“I’m sorry that man gave you so much trouble earlier,” said the little girl’s mother.  “But I have to admit, I was tempted to get a picture, too.”

“I understand,” said Shirl.  “In fact, Laurie, let me out of the carrier.  And get me a leash.”

“Are you sure?” asked Laurie.  Shirl nodded, and Laurie opened the door to the carrier.  Shirl walked out onto the counter and swept the room with her eyes.  Not quite a half-dozen phones came out and took her picture.

“Can I pat your head?” said the lttile girl.


“It’s alright, Laurie,” said Shirl.  She gave the little girl a big smile and said “Go ahead.”

The little girl patted Shirl’s hairdo (Shirl had spent so much money on it for Steve — she wouldn’t do that again unless she could decide a hairdresser or a dog groomer should get the job) lightly.  At  Shirl’s suggestion, Laurie set the wiener woman on the floor and the little girl gave her a hug.  The office filled up with smiles and Shirl let Evan walk her out of the building. 

It didn’t surprise Shirl a bit that she was on the news that night.

Shirl followed the advice of both doctors.  She slept most of the two days after the visit and wondered if the drowsiness was a side effect of the shots.  She worked out a routine with the kids for when to take her to the dog park.  They had let her roam loose in the backyard, but there was a horrible incident when another dog got through the fence and chased after Shirl.  (She later admitted that she had gone into heat to Laurie but was too lazy to mention it.)  Eventually, both dog and dog-lady got out.  Shirl fought her canine instincts and kept herself away from the other dog by hiding under a porch with a hole in its lattice.  But this led to another problem later.  The underside of the porch was infested with fleas!  Laurie got naked to give her mom a flea-dip.  Even Shirl had to laugh at the sorry sight she made when she saw herself in the mirror.

Shirl had company during her wiener-woman days.  Most of it was from friends who tried to commiserate with her state, though they admitted to having to see it for themselves.  Weeks went by and the neighbors became used to Shirl’s dogginess.  The children were happy to see her at the dog park, ready to pet her, hug her, and toss her treats, which she did find tasty.  She’d do tricks for them as best she could, rolling over, begging.  (She never played dead.  The kids found that too creepy, and so did she.)

Then, one day, with nothing of note in the way of difference, Shirl was in the dog park.  She was begging, when there was a sudden shift in reality.  Everything around her was suddenly lower than it had been.  She felt cooler, and noticed some of the parents were hiding their children’s eyes.  (And some of the dads were looking at her VERY intently.)  She suddenly had a feeling about what had happened.  She looked down at herself, and saw that she had her human body back.  She wasn’t embarrassed, she was relieved.  

But she didn’t want to offend her neighbors or give the kids a look at her goods.  She stood up, keeping her gaze fixed on looking ahead of herself, and then began to walk out of the park.  Laurie used to keep a set of clothing in the car, but had stopped doing it, apparently thinking the wiener-dog was here to stay.  Shirl just headed to the car, prepared to scrunch down once inside.

As she continued walking, avoiding eye contact with anyone around her, she began to feel a little strange.  Her ears felt funny.  She was losing color perception in her vision.  And everything had a much stronger scent than it had recently.  But Shirl thought little about these things.

UNTIL, she got in the car, glanced at the rear-view mirror — and saw the dachshund’s head looking back at her.

Transformations and clothing

A friend of mine just gave me a boxed set of the second season of Bewitched. This is probably my favorite season, with Darrin and Endora actually getting along at times (see them together in the waiting room in the episode where Tabitha is born). It also has maybe my favorite transformation in the entire series, “The Catnappers,” where Endora turns a beautiful client (Toni Devlin, played by Marion Thompson) of Darrin’s into a cat. Among other things, when the client is changed back, she’s posed cat-like and sitting on Darrin’s lap. She does NOT ask how she got there. (I may try to do a screen capture on this sometime.)

However, it being a prime-time network series in the 1960s (and there were only THREE networks at that time), when she is changed, her clothes just vanish. She was wearing a pearl choker necklace at the time, which doesn’t vanish until Samantha makes it disappear, along with the client’s purse. Interestingly enough, when she is changed back, she has a different outfit on. The same thing happens with the other big female transformation on Bewitched, the Italian client (Clio Vanita, played by Nancy Kovack) turned into a chimpanzee in the two-part “Cousin Serena Strikes Again.” (I don’t like this change as much as they don’t show her transformation into or from being the chimp.)

On the other hand, on I Dream of Jeannie, a couple of beauty queens (Virginia Ann Ford and Willi Koopman as Miss Atom Bomb and Miss Galaxy) get turned into dogs in “What’s New Poodle Dog” and their outfits become canine versions of what they were. In another episode, “Who Needs a Green-Eyed Genie?” an old girlfriend (Joan Patrick as Joan Sheldon) of Tony’s is turned into a chimp (which they DID show), but still in the clothing she was wearing.

This is common enough in movies and films, at least for female characters. Male characters can change back where they’re naked, but not showing anything. I’ve long awaited a female version of The Shaggy Dog, but I don’t think we’ll ever see it, as Disney wouldn’t like saying what a female dog is called.

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 keep up the continuity of the movie. (Hey, they showed Mulan bathing but kept her decent). But they probably felt that would’ve stretched things out too far time-wise.

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 his 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.

Size changes often involve losing clothing one way or another. The earliest shrinking film I can think of, 1936’s The Devil-Doll with Lionel Barrymore and Maureen O’Sullivan, doesn’t actually show the shrinking (if I’m remembering it right), but it does show the subjects in their now over-sized clothing, sometimes with the clothes covering them. Later, they’re in doll-sized clothing. The same thing happens in 1940’s Dr. Clyclops. We don’t see the shrinking and the characters just end up in giant rags. In 1956’s Attack of the Puppet People, poor secretary Sally Reynolds waking up to find herself “dressed” in a handkerchief surrounded by gigantic objects. And 1957’s The Incredible Shrinking Man and 1981’s The Incredible Shrinking Woman go to great pains to show their title subjects in various stages of shrinking.

As for the other way, people turning into giants, it’s common to show the subjects growing out of their clothes. The Amazing Colossal Man (also 1957), Attack of the 50-Foot Woman (1958 and 1993), Village of the Giants (1965, which does a nice, cheap job of the growing scenes by tearing off the subject’s clothing while doing rear-screen projections of cameras tilting up), and 1995’s Attack of the 60-Foot Centerfolds (which doesn’t actually show the growing) all have fairly good growth scenes. And there’s a custom fetish video outfit, Media Impact Customs, which has done some nice size-change videos. Be warned, you have to pay to download them and see them. But they also do custom videos to order. Their contact info is here:

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.