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.

Nasty “Unexpected” TF

Looking at another comic book transformation story, but this one is kinda nasty, especially when you consider that it appeared in a code-approved comic book. The comic was Unexpected #193, published with a cover date of October 1979.

This cover has nothing to do with the story involved, I’m just adding it to this posting so fans will know what to look for. I got this copy cheap for $4.75. I had the original, but it’s in storage.

At this time, Unexpected was one of DC’s Dollar Comics. Back in 1976, when most comic books had a cover price of 35 cents, DC decided to publish some comic books that cost $1. This was because newsstand owners were complaining that comic books were not bringing in enough revenue. So DC began publishing some titles that were $1, 64-pages long, and ad-free. Some of the Dollar titles included Superman Family, G.I. Combat, and House of Mystery. Nearly all annuals at this time were also Dollar Comics. Unexpected (formerly Tales of the Unexpected) actually combined three of DC’s horror comics of the time. Besides Unexpected itself, House of Secrets and Witching Hour also continued under the Dollar Unexpected title.

This story was in the “House of Secrets” section of the comic book. For this reason, the host of the story was Abel, who had been the host of the House of Secrets title. (It would be a few years before Alan Moore established that Abel, and his brother, Cain, who hosted House of Mystery, were THE Cain and Abel, with Cain condemned to kill Abel again and again and again over the ages.) The title of the story was “The Beautiful and the Damned.” The splash page sets up the story.

Any story that opens with grave-robbing is not going to have a happy ending. It’s just a matter of how unhappy the ending is going to be and for who. We meet Nora and her husband, Miles, who dig up the grave of Anderson, a chemist looking for a formula that would create eternal youth, something Nora is very interested in. So, she talks Miles (who has a bad case of whippedus unbelievablus) into excavating Anderson’s grave, which has the book with the formula in it. That Anderson had the formula buried with him because he didn’t want anyone to learn it emphasizes what a bad idea this is.

And Miles tells his wife what was wrong with the formula.

That warning should’ve been enough for anyone else, but Nora is so vain abut her looks, she pushes Miles into more experimentation.

It’s at this time that we meet Miles’ mother, who is living with him and Nora. She’s a little creepy, but is otherwise the only good character in the story.

Nora pleads with Miles to continue the experiments, telling him how much she loves him. He gives in, but the results are not pretty.

Miles, sickened by what’s happening to his test animals, wants to give up. And, as most readers expected, we finally see Nora for what she really is.

Finally, the formula is tested on a monkey, who doesn’t end up a puddle, so the test is successful on him!

You have to wonder why Miles doesn’t give Nora what she wants and test it on her! If it’s successful, she’ll get off his back. If not, well, too bad. And Nora thinks she has a better idea anyway — test the formula on Miles’ mother!

And Miles’ mother is willing. If it will mean Miles and Nora’s conflict will be done, his mother will take the chance. But Miles is NOT willing. He finally grows a pair and starts to break things off with Nora. But then, he acts suspiciously — to Nora, at least.

Miles gives himself an injection, and it seems to do him a world of good! (Earlier in the story, he mentioned he had a bad heart.) Nora is convinced Miles is holding out on her, has used the formula on himself, and is about to ditch her. So she takes action!

Unfortunately, it was the wrong action! She becomes the latest test subject for the formula — and suffers the same results as the poor animals that had come before her.

Why is her dress melting with her body? Was the formula THAT powerful? Yes. Because one of its ingredients was a VERY powerful force in its day — the Comics Code Authority! I can hear the conversation now.

CCA: The dress needs to melt, too!

ARTIST: What!? But why?

CCA: Without the dress, she’s naked!

ARTIST: But she’s a blob!

CCA: She’s still naked, and the Code forbids naked women in comics, and that’s that!

And so, all that remained was for Nora to deal with her fate —

While Miles walks away —

And Abel gives us a sort of moral.

But, Abel, the whole point is that Nora doesn’t HAVE bones anymore!

Like a lot (and I do mea n a LOT) of DC’s horror comics, they reach where a character has been transformed or punished in some way, and that’s that. But, in this case, I envisioned a possible extension that I liked — though Nora would not.

Nora was still thinking of her new situation when, to her surprise, Miles returned. He had another man with him.

“My God,” said the man. “This is her?”

“It is,” said Miles. “You see her eyes, blinking, going back and forth between us?”

“Yes, I do.” He reached down and touched Nora’s face, which made her flinch. Then, the man touched the blob she had become. To his surprise, it felt like human flesh. He picked up a handful of Nora and let it flow back to its source.

“Does she still eat?” the man asked.

“Oh, yes,” said Miles. “I’ve put together a formula that should be injected into her twice a day, once in the morning, once in the afternoon. The ingredients are quite inexpensive, and I can arrange for you to get a good supply of needles.”

“Sounds good. I’ll get some men in here to take her away.”

After the man left, Miles looked at Nora. “I’ve been examining our test subjects over the months,” said Miles. “The eternal youth part of the formula worked! You’ll be forever young, although you’ll be a young BLOB!

“And I’ve made arrangements for you to get nutrients, water, everything to keep you alive!”

The man re-entered with four other men, each one looking strong and rough. They surrounded Nora and, with some effort, lifted her and placed her in a wheelbarrow.

What are they going to do with me? wondered Nora.

A few weeks later, Nora was in her tent when the man came in with a large piece of cloth. He unfurled it and showed it to Nora.

“It’s all set!” said the man. “This will bet the rubes coming in. You’ll be the most popular attraction in the side-show!”

Nora, as best she could, looked at the banner.

Not for the faint of heart or stomach!


Nora wanted to scream, but gurgling was the best she could do.

This story is copyright 1979 by DC Comics. I in no way claim ownership of it.

The Yappy Little Dog

“Look,there she is!”

“Supergirl!  Yay, Supergirl!”

The Girl of Steel had to smile as she came in for a landing at the Midvale Orphanage.  She remembered her time there just after she arrived on Earth.  She hadn’t wanted to upset her cousin Kal-El, so she never told him.  But Earth was so scary at first.  She was so happy to have found out how loving and caring they were at the orphanage.  It was just what she had needed.  And, now, every chance she got, she was glad to visit her former home.

“It’s so nice to see you all, again!  Jenette, is that a new dress?  Joey, I like your haircut!”

“Thank you for coming, Supergirl” said Mrs. Nelson, the headmistress.  “The children are always so happy to see you!  You’re a — “

“She’s a manstealer!” came a voice from overhead.  Supergirl looked up and saw an odd little woman.  She was instantly reminded of Superman’s interdimensional foe, Mr.  Mxyzptlk.

“Who are you?”” asked Supergirl.

“I’m Gsptlsnz, the real girlfriend of Mxyzptlk, the man you’ve been trying to steal from me!”

“Mxyzptlk?  I haven’t been trying to steal him!  He tried to force me to marry him once, but I didn’t want to!”

“A likely story!  I found your photo in his house!  You’re a rival!  Or you were!  Now, you’re going to be a — a …”

Supergirl was apprehensive as Gsptlsnz looked around the crowd.  Then, the lady imp saw the t-shirt of one woman.

50% sweetheart

49 % bitch

Don’t push it!

“That’s it!” said Gsptlsnz.  The female imp gestured at Supergirl.  Instantly, the Maid of Steel shrank until she was enveloped in her costume.  After a few seconds’ struggle, Supergirl hopped out of her clothes.  But she was no longer quite Supergirl.

When she realized she didn’t have her clothes on anymore, Supergirl tried to cover herself, but her body wasn’t working as it should.  She noticed her blonde hair seemed to have gotten longer, was almost hugging her body.

“I can see her boobies!” a boy in the crowd cried.  She noticed the orphanage workers trying to cover the eyes of the boys, while some of the male workers were having a hard time averting theirs.  But everyone was looking at Supergirl strangely, as if something about her was wrong.

Supergirl decided to say something, to apologize for her immodesty if nothing else.  She opened her mouth and —


Supergirl shut herself up in surprise.  Everyone in the crowd was covering their ears.  They were all wincing to some extent.

“Yap?” said Supergirl uncertainly, more quietly, though the noise she made obviously couldn’t be completely contained.

“That’s it!” siad Gsptlsnz.  “Dog acts are such fun!  And yours is both entertaining and sexy!  See for yourself, Super-Mutt!”

Gsptlsnz made a mirror materialize in front of Supergirl, and now the Maid of Steel could see what the snickering Imp had done to her.  Supergirl’s head, her shoulders, and, yes (to her embarrassment), her breasts were human and on display.  But the rest of her, was a dog!  Her, ulp! hindquarters, complete with tail, her front paws instead of her arms and hands, all of it was a dog’s!  She had been turned into a dog-sphinx!

Supergirl suddenly had to howl in dismay, making everyone, even Gsptlsnz, cover their ears.

“Oh, were you trying to win over everyone’s sympathy with your words?  Fat chance, bitch!  All you can make are the most annoying ‘yaps’ I could conjure up from you!”

Some of the children, and the women, in the  crowd were crying over Supergirl’s plight.  But some of the older boys, and men, seemed to actually be aroused seeing her head and boobs on a dog’s body.  Unable to take the situation in front of the orphanage anymore, Supergirl flew up into the sky and away from the crowd.

What can I do? she wondered.  Cousin Kal was off in space on a mission.  She’d been meant to cover for him while he was away.  But what could she do as she was now?

Suddenly, she heard a cry from below her.  “Gracie!”  Supergirl looked down to see a little girl following a ball into the street, ignoring the car bearing down on her.  The super-dog-girl went flying down at super-speed and, with her teeth, grabbed the nape of the little girl’s dress, pulling her safely out of the way of the car just in time.

“Thank you!” said a dark-haired woman with a very nasal voice, “ — Supergirl?  Krypto?  What happened to you?”

Supergirl gently set the little girl down on the ground.  The girl stared at Supergirl for a second, then smiled and patted her on the head.  To Supergirl’s surprise, she began to lick the girl’s face.  As she did, Supergirl could tell her tongue was canine, too.

“Stop that!” cried a blonde woman nearby.  “We don’t know where she’s been or what she is!”

“It’s Supergirl, Ms. Babcock,” said the nasal woman.  “She’s obviously been changed by red kryptonine, or what’s-is-name, Mixxle-plik or something.”

Supergirl tried to explain that it was his girlfriend, but, again, all that came out was “Yap, yap, yap!”  And, again, everyone around her instantly put their hands over their ears.

“Supergirl, what happened to you?”

”It doesn’t matter,” said a middle-aged man with a British accent.  “What’s important is that she saved our Gracie.  And, here, I think I’ve got something for her.”

He reached into a shopping bag and brought out something wrapped in butcher’s paper.  He unwrapped it and brought out several large, thick, raw steaks.

“But that’s our supper tonight!” said Babcock.

“I’m sure Mr. Sheffield would approve,” said British Man.

Supergirl still had a Kryptonian consitution, so she didn’t really need to eat.  But the steaks smelled so good, especially to her new doggy senses.  She pounced on them and wolfed (Supergirl relfected on how appropriate that expression suddenly was) them down.  Then, she looked at the people she had helped and began to yap! away again before she was reminded by the pained expressions what she sounded like.

“Hey, you, uh, boy!” said Babcock.  Supergirl then noticed there was a boy with them, a boy who was eagerly staring at the Breasts of Steel.

”Supergirl,” said Nasal Woman.  “Thanks, but, maybe you should leave before you completely corrupt Brighton here.”

Supergirl yapped out an apology and then flew away.

“Can you imagiine what it must be like to open your mouth and having something so irritating coming out of it?” said the brunette.  The others looked at Fran, but said nothing.

Supergirl flew aimlessly for a few minutes.  She stopped a bank robbery in Metropolis by again yapping and causing the crooks to drop their weapons so they could cover their ears.  As she left, she noticed a dismayed Jimmy Olsen gaping at her, but still with enough wits to take her picture.  He’d never have the Daily Planet publish it, not with her boobs showing — she hoped.

She was part dog, her voice annoyed everyone, her boobs were flashing for everyone to see — she’d had enough.  She needed comfort, so she flew to the one place where she’d always been able to get it.  She flew just beyond Midvale, to the woods outside of the town.  She found the hatch she’d used so many times to enter her underground tunnel.  It was no harder to open as part dog as it was when she was fully a girl.  In a few seconds, she was in the home of her foster parents Fred and Edna Danvers.

“Linda!” said Edna when she saw the human/dog hybrid that was her foster daughter.  “We heard it on the news.  Oh, my darling, what can we do?”

Supergirl flew up by her mother, who tearfully hugged her foster daughter.  Supergirl looked behind her mother to he foster father, Fred Danvers.  Her heart sank as he averted his gaze from her and left the room.  Could he not love her in this form?  But, then, he came back in the room, still looking away from Supergirl, and held out something in his hand.

“Edna, can you put this on her?” Fred asked his wife.  Supergirl smiled when she saw he had one of Linda’s bikini tops.  She realized how uncomfortable it might be for him to look at his topless daughter.

Edna took the top and began to fit it around Supergirl’s breasts.  She had to make a few adjustments for it to fit tightly enough, but it was soon a good fit.

“Mr. and Mrs. Danvers, what’s going on?” came a voice from someone entering the room.  Supergirl looked up and saw the Linda Lee Danvers robot which was used when Linida had to make an appearance at the same time as Supergirl.

Fogrgetting her current state, Supergirl tried to give commands to the robot.  Instead, the yaps came out.  Fred and Edna instantly covered their ears.

“Mom, Dad,” said the robot, taking on its role as Linda.  “If you want, I should be able to kick this creature to the moon.

”No!” cried Fred.  “This is the real Linda!  She was turned into this by magic!”

Supergirl had seen her parents covering their ears.  She hung her head to know that even her foster parents found her new voice so irritating.

“Linda,” said Edna.  “I’m sorry, but you can’t stay her.  If people saw you like this, it would give away your secret identity.”

Supergirl knew she was right, but her spirits fell again at the thought of having to leave her home.

”Have you seen your real parents, Zor-El and Allura”? askef Fred.  “Maybe they can do something to change you back?”

Supergirl nodded her head.  She left the Danvers’ house and  flew north.  Soon, she was inside the Fortress of Solitude.  

“What is it?” came a voice, like her cousin’s, but with a slight electronic tinge to it.  She turned and saw several of her cousin’s robots looking at her inquiringly.  Again forgetting what her voice was like, Supergirl tried to give the robots orders.

“We need to see if there’s anything we can do for others around the planet!” said one of the robots.

“Yes!” said another.  “Some other place that isn’t here!”  And all the robots flew away.  Even they can’t stand my voice, thought Supergirl.

Supergirl found the monitor that allowed communication between the outside and the Bottle City of Kandor.  All the controls were buttons, so Supergirl could work it with her paws.  She tapped in a specific code, and the faces of her parents, Zor-El and Allura, came on the screen.

“GASP!  Kara!  What’s happened to you?” said Allura when she saw what her daughter had been turned into.

Supergirl remembered not to try to speak this time.  She feared her yap might blow out a circuit on the communicator.

“Stay there,” said Zor-El.  (Supergirl wished it didn’t sound so much like he was telling her “Stay!”)  “We’ll send someone out to get you!”

A few minutes later, a member of the Superman Emergency Squad came from the bottle, enlarged himself, grabbed Supergirl, and then shrank the both of them and used a parachute to re-enter the bottle.  Soon, Supergirl was in a clinic with her parents.

“Kara, this is Dr. Pro-Owb,” said Zor-El, indicating a distinguished looking middle-aged man standing nearby.  “He’s here to examine you.”

“The first thing I’m going to do is put this headband on you, dear,” said the doctor.  “It will allow us to communicate with you telepathically.” 

“Mom!  Dad!” cried Supergirl as soon as the headband was placed on her.  “It was Gsptlsnz!”

“Who?” asked Zor-El.

“”Gsptlsnz!  She’s the girlfriend of Mxyzptlk!  You remember him?”

“Of course I do.”  Zor-El remembered how Mxyztplk had pulled Supergirl’s father out of the Survival Zone when Supergirl thought her parents were dead.  Zor-El managed to get the imp to say his name backwards to stop Mxyzptlk’s  marrying Kara.  He later learned it was a relief to Kara to know that Mxyzptlk could NOT bring back the dead.

“:She’s jealous of me, Dad!” continued Supergirl.  “She thinks I want to steal Mxyzptlk away from her!  So she turned me into — this!”

“Doctor,” said Alllura.  “Is there anything you can do for Kara?”

“Let me think,” said Dr. Pro-Owb.

“You don’t have to do that, Doc!  I know what you should do!”

Everyone turned to see Gsptlsnz was now in the room.  She gestured at Dr. Pro-Owb, who suddenly, a little jerkily, began to intently examine Supergirl.

“What’s going on?” he said.  “I can’t control my movements!”

“Now, like a good veterinarian, you should do a thorough examination of your patient!  Start with taking her temperature1”

Supergirl began to open her mouth, ready to accept the thermometer the way she normally would have.  But Dr. Pro-Owb turned her head away from him, and took her temperature. For once, Supergirl’s canine voice didn’t try to speak, bark, or howl.. Instead, it made a whimper as the thermometer was inserted into her anus.  It stayed there far too long until the doctor removed it and read the temperature, reacting as if all were normal.

“Next, make sure she’s had all of her shots,” said Gsptlsnz.

The doctor removed a half-dozen needles from a drawer and set up each one of them.  Then, Supergirl had to bear taking shots all over her backside.  She wasn’t sure how many diseases there were for Kryptonian dogs, but she was sure she was protected from all of them.

“Finally, she needs to be cuter,” said Gsptlsnz.  “I saw an Earth breed earlier, and I think our dear Supergirl should resemble it.”

Dr. Pro-Owb found himself removing a powered razor and clippers from another drawer.  Quickly, he began to shave Supergirl all over her body.  He kept the fur on top of her head, but put it in tiny, tight curlers.  He left hair just above her paws.  He trimmed all the fur off of her tail, except for a little tuft at the end.  Finally, he removed the curlers from the top of her head and placed a little bow, with the El family crest in the middle (the crest Earth people mistook for an S).  Supergirl could see her parents were aghast at what had happened to their daughter as the doctor moved her so she could see her reflection in a mirror.  She was no longer the Girl of Steel, not even a non-descript dog as she had thought she had been.  For there, in the mirror. was a Super-Poodle with a girl’s head and breasts.  There was no longer any fur to conceal her super-orbs.

“And none of this stuff!” said Gsptlsnz, gesturing away the headband and bikini top.  “I want everyone to see all of you, to see the goods that you tried to take Mxyzptlk away from me with! But, I’ll let you have these so everyone can identify you.”  

Fabric flew in from outside, along with a dog collar.  In seconds, Supergirl wore a cape much like the one worn by Krypto, her cousin’s super-dog.  

“And no communication except for the sounds I gave you to come out of your mouth!”

For  the first time in Kandor, Supergirl tried to give voice to her outrage, her shame, at her new form.

“Kara!  Stop it!” cried Zor-El.  “If you keep up that noise, you may shatter the bottle!”

“That’s right, girlie!” said Gsptlsnz.  “I’d get as far away from here as you can if you don’t want to hurt, maybe kill, all the nice people in this bottle!

“Now, I’m going to do some sight-seeing.  There’s a city on Earth I’ve been hearing a lot about that I want to visit!  It’s called Las Vegas!  I think I’ll have fun there!”  And, with that, the lady imp disappeared.

Supergirl became quiet, hanging her head, tucking her tail between her legs.  With help again from the Superman Emergency Squad, Supergirl left the bottle, regained her dog-girl size, and flew away from the Fortress.

In a daze, Supergirl performed her “chores.”  (She didn’t like how easily that phrase popped up in her head.)  She stopped more bank robbers, saved a town from an avalanche, diverted asteroids that were headed for Earth, and performed tricks for children in a park, concentrating on not letting a sound come from her mouth.

In the crater of an extinct volcano in the South Pacific, she rested.  Again, she didn’t really need rest, but it was a welcome relief from her ordeal.  It took a little effort to fall asleep in her new body, adjusting to the dog legs with her girl breasts.  Thank Rao, I’m not Power Girl, she thought.  The idea of Kara Zor-L moving, especially flying, around with her breasts actually made Supergirl chuckle.  Power Girl was supposed to be Supergirl’s  doppelganger from another Earth.  Why was she so much more developed than Supergirl? the Maid of Steel wondered.

She dreamed of past boyfriends.  There was Dick Malverne, originally Dick Wilson, a fellow orphan at Midvale.  He was nice, but she suspected he really wanted to prove that Linda was Supergirl.  Indeed, she suspected his biggest desire was to date Supergirl, not Linda.

There was Jerro, a mer-boy from Atlantis.  He was awfully nice, and Supergirl had a good time with him when red kryptonite turned her into a mermaid.  Still, he was, well, part fish!

Then, there was Bronco Bill Starr, Supergirl’s rodeo rider boyfriend.  She REALLY liked him, but he was gone so much of the time.  But he did know her, almost like he knew her in another life.  And she smiled to remember the time she used her x-ray vision on him, the only time she had ever done so with a man.  And was she surprised when she did that!   She had heard Earth girls use the expression “hung like a horse.”  Well, Bronco Bill was definitely “hung like a horse!”  She’d had some good dreams about him in the past.  One of the best, she wasn’t sure why, was one where he was trying to break Comet, her super-horse.  Maybe she should try to find Bronco Bill.  But how would he react to her as part dog?

Finally, among her serious boyfriends, there was Brainiac 5, Supergirl’s fellow member of the Legion of Super-Heroes in the 30th Century.  He could be cold, almost machine-like at times.  But there was a softer, gentler side to him, one even more special because he would only reveal it to her.  If only he knew magic as well as he did science.  He might be able to change her back to fully human.  And then, she’d be SO gratefui to him!

Supergirl awakened from the dream.  But her state of amorousness, of arousal, from the dreams was still with her.  And then, it hit her.

She was in heat.  All those boyfriends had appeared in her dream because she was in heat!

Her Supergirl brain struggled with her canine loins.  She knew what was needed to cope with this new situation.  But did she want to do it?  Did she want to lose her cherry like THAT?!

She heard a bark behind her.  It shouldn’t have surprised her, she thought.  She knew Krypto had a super-strong sense of smell, and that her current state would lead him right to her.  Sure enough, Krypto landed softly behind her.  Supergirl tried to fight off the urges in her, but her doggy sensibilities were too strong.  Turning her butt toward the dog of steel, she made the body signs to welcome him.  A moment later, he had mounted her.  The sensation gave her such joy, she yipped!

And Krypto dismounted.

Supergirl faced him, and saw that his ears were hoisted in pain, his doghood sheathed, and his tail between his legs.  He flew away, leaving a very frustrated super-bitch.

Supergirl tried to fly her arousal off, but couldn’t do it.  She eventually found herself flying over Las Vegas.  She decided to investigate if Gsptlsnz had made good on her threat to go there.  

It didn’t take long for her to find out.  There at one of the most popular hotel/casinos on the strip, Rainbow’ s End, Supergirl found a strange sight.  Outside the casino, which was named for it’s bright, multi-coored decor, was a makeshift, barbed-wire, fenced in area containing a couple-dozen cattle and swine.  When Supergirl landed, a casino employee spoke up.

“They’re our girls,” said the man.  “Our showgirls!  That awful little woman came here and didn’t like how our girls were ‘on display.’  So she did this to them.  Our beautiful, beautiful showgirls!  Now barnyard animals!”

“Zey are not so beautiful,” came a heavily accented voice.  “Not as beautiful as mon cherie!”

Supergirl saw the man who had spoken was a tall, handsome man with dark hair and a mustache who looked very debonair.  And, hanging onto him, clearly lovestruck, was Gsptlsnz.

“Oh, Anton!” said Gsptlsnz.  “How you do go on!”

“I only speak ze truth!” said Anton.  “You are, by far, zee cutest little  button I ‘ave evair seen!  I am zee envy of every man ‘oo sees me wiz you!”

Gsptlsnz giggled and blushed.  Then she saw Supergirl and laughed!

“Are you enjoying life as a dog?  Be happy you can’t steal Anton away from me as you are!  Then, I would have to turn you into a full dog and take you with me to the Fifth Dimension, where you would become my pet!  I’[d love to see Mxyzptlk’s reaction then!

“Anyway, Anton has been showing me all the games in his casino, letting me win all I want to!  And then, he is going to take me to his room for a, ahem, special private dinner!”

“Ah, but first,” said Anton.  “I ‘ave a new game to show you!  Zis way, please!  You may follow. too, Super-Mutt.”

That remark made Gsptlsnz bark with laughter.  Supergirl followed them to a table with several players around it.  In front of each player was a crossword puzzle, an electronic one, built into the table.

“Oh, crosswords!” cried Gsptlsnz, grinning at the sight.  “I love these!”

“Zis is zee ‘Scrabble!’  Do sit down, mon cherie!” said Anton.  “Zis is like zee bingo!  Burt ‘ere will call out letters.  If you get letters zat match one of yours on zee board, and zey make up zee word, just call zee word out, and you win!”

Gsptlsnz sat down by her crossword.  With great excitement, she and other players began to take tiles to cover letters.  She was told that the bigger the word, the bigger the jackpot if she got all the letters.  To her delight, she was covering all the letters of a vertical, eight-letter word.  She saw other players were getting close, too.  She was filled with excitement.

Finally, her eight-letter word was covered!  

“I did it!” Gsptlsnz cried.  “I won!  The word is ‘Znsltpsg!’”

Suddenly, Gsptlsnz clamped a hand over her mouth!  “No!  That’s my name backwards!”  she cried.  “You tricked me!  I’m doing  back to the Fifth Dime — !”

Gsptlsnz vanished.  As soon as she did, Supergirl felt her body shifting.  Shakily, she stood up, overjoyed to again be able to stand on all twos.  She heard laughter, sobs, and cries of joy not far away and found all of the farm animals had turned back into women.  They were nearly naked, but they were used to that.  Supergirl was naked (except for her tiny cape and dog collar, which stretched with her change), still with her poodle do, but she didn’t mind.  She was herself again!

“You did it!” she cried, looking at Anton.  “You sent her away!  How did you set this up?”

“I’ll explain,” he said.  “But first, let me remove this disguise.”

Supergirl looked at the man curiously, noting his accent, his entire voice, had changed.  He took off his wig, then removed the make-up that covered a VERY familiar set of freckles, and Supergirl grinned to see the face of —

“Jimmy Olsen!”

“When Gsptlsnz appeared in Vegas and started to wreak havoc, the Vegas authorities called me because they knew I had experience with her,” said Jimmy.  “I got out here and we came up with the idea of a Scrabble game.  We hoped Gsptlsnz would be so excited that she wouldn’t notice she was spelling out her name in reverse.”

Suddenly, Jimmy realized he was staring intently at Supergirl’s nude body.  He blushed and looked away.  “I’m sorry I was staring,” he said.  “And I also apologize for calling you ‘Super-Mutt’ earlier.  I  had to play my part so Gsptlsnz wouldn’t be suspicious.  

“Anyway, I was hoping you’d show up when Gsptlsnz went back to her home.  And I brought this.”

As Jimmy continued to look away, he held out Supergirl’s costume to her.  She took it from him, but didn’t put it on right away.

“Jimmy,” said Supergirl, “If any man deserves to see me naked, it’s you.  I was thinking earlier today of some of my boyfriends in the past.  I should’ve included you among them.”

Jimmy’s mouth dropped open as Supergirl let her costume drop to the floor.  He couldn’t help but think how attractive she was as she walked up, embraced him, and began to kiss him.  And then, Jimmy tried hard to push her away.

“Jimmy?” what’s wrong?” she asked.

“Well, it’s, uh — “ Jimmy stammered.

“It’s your breath,” said one of the showgirls nearby.  “When we changed back, several of us hugged and kissed each other.  And we discovered we all had animal breath.”

Supergirl put her hand to her mouth and huffed her breath out.  And she smelled what it was like after she’d been a dog for hours.

“Here, Supergirl,” said another showgirl, holding out a bottle of mouthwash.  Supergirl accepted it and gargled strongly for a minute.  Then, realizing she had no place to spit the mouthwash out, but also knowing it wouldn’t affect her, she just swallowed it.

Then, she gave Jimmy Olsen the most passionate kiss he’d ever experienced, a feeling only enhanced by her nudity.  Jimmy also found her poodle do aroused him even more.  After the kiss, Supergirl stepped back, and, for the second time in her life, gave in to the urge to check out a man with her x-ray vision.  She found that Jimmy, while no Bronco Bill, was still very impressive.

As she put her costume back on, Jimmy said “That private dinner I mentioned earlier is for real, a reward for my getting rid of Gsptlsnz.  For two. In a suite, the honeymoon suite, if I want. Would you like to join me?”

Supergirl grabbed Jimmy’s tie and gently pulled him to her.  She whispered in his ear “I’m still in heat. Let’s go.”

This was a bit of fan fiction written by me. I wrote it without any care for when it took place, or its place in DC continuity. I put some things in there for longtime Supergirl fans to enjoy. Stuff like the Linda Lee robot, the Superman robots, Supergirl’s boyfriends, and other things, were all part of Supergirl’s universe at one time.

Supergirl and the other characters all belong to DC Comics/Time Warner, and I do not claim any ownership of them. The same goes for characters from The Nanny, which belongs to Mill Creek Entertainment.

Also, many of you reading the name Gsptlsnz my picture the babe who first appeared in the animated Superman series back in the 90s. The version I was writing was from the 60s, and she looked like this:

Mostly, I wrote this for fun, if some naughtiness and humiliation for Supergirl, who I do love dearly. Better or worse, I wouldn’t be a comic book collector if not for her.

In Gaylord County

The art for this was done over a decade ago. I had said I wanted a student transforming his teacher, thinking grade school or higher. Instead, I got this galoot changing the teacher. It took me a while, but I rewrote the story in my head to what it is now. I know, the art is not the best, but it was inexpensive. Enjoy.

“I had asked for a true story from your sister about her family life. Instead, I get this nonsense about witchcraft and spells. For the instructions on an assignment to be so completely ignored really gets my goat!”
“Ah may just be a simple hick from the hills, Miz Babcock, but I know a cue when I hear one. ‘Really gets your goat?’ Well, why don’t you BE a goat? An’ my little sister was tellin’ the truth!”
“Ah cain’t make you eat your words, Miz Babcock. But you can eat these ‘lies’ you said mah little sister was tellin! An you kin have yer fine clothes as an entree!”
“Now, watch carefully, kids! You’ve all milked cows before, but I bet none of you’ve ever milked a goat! Ain’t much difference, ‘cept’n a cow don’t often get restless ‘n’ try t’ butt ya.”
“Whut in — ? Oh, Miz Babcock, izzn’t it? Ah’m guessing’ you got on the wrong side o’ one o’ the Cochran clan didn’t ya? Well, ya know better now!”
“Whoo – eee! Gots ta say, most o’ the Cochran’s lessons ain’t as pretty as you, Miz Babcock!”