Sometimes, when I see a pose in a photo (or commission one), it isn’t what other see. Back in 2005, I was a member of APA-5. An APA (they may still be around) was a club, an Amateur Press Association, where you would put together your own fanzine, make as many copies as there were members (usually a few more in case of accidents) and send them to a Central Mailer, who would then assemble the various zines and send out the collected editions to the members. We would read what everyone else had to say, then put together our next zines with comments on the others. The finished zines would go off to the central mailer again, and the process would be repeated.
At holiday time, the head of APA-5 would request everyone to include images that could inspire responses from the other members. As I was a writer, I’d put a list together. (One response to one of my suggestions that I liked was “Jeannie’s bottle washes up on Gilligan’s Island.” The response was a drawing showing Gilligan holding the stopper from the bottle as a cloud with a pair of eyes appeared. My feeling was that the next action would be Gilligan dropping the bottle and the stopper and running away yelling “Skipper! Skipper!” But they STILL wouldn’t get off the island!)
But in 2005, I decided to paste in some pin-up photos that could have stories written for them. I also included this photo, which was something I commissioned from a young lady in Canada:
When I got the responding mailing of APA-5, there was one member who complained “She looks WAY too young to be posed like THAT!” He then quit the club, leaving me to look to the other members as if I were indulging in kiddie porn.
Well, first, the age of this woman when she posed for this was 23. And, I don’t know what my accuser thought, but I had this girl in a story like what follows:
Dry. Everything was so dry. She had explored as much f her surroundings as she could, and she found no wet. She did like the cockroach and the daddy longlegs that she encountered, they helped keep up her spirit and her strength.
But she couldn’t even remember how she got here. She remembered being enveloped in dry, dry like so much of the other dry she’d found.
Then a pair of human-poles appeared by her, and one of them grabbed her with her front-toes. She was s terrified to be lifted from the dry and placed on another dry, a springy kind of dry. Then the other human-pole pointed a stick at her, stick that glowed as the man-pole made strange sounds.
The springy dry began to slide under her. No, she was sliding over it! The green and the wet of her skin changed and she enlarged! Human took over her mind, and she remembered everything! She had been turned into a frog! She was Phu, the babysitter to the two little girls standing by the bed she was crouched on. The little girls who had turned her into the frog! Now, she was squatting on top of the bed of one of them. And she was naked! She had shrunk out of her clothes!
Phu was angry, terrified, and ready to scold the girls. But the, she saw, they were both crying!
“Phu!” said one of them. “We’re SORRY! We love you!”
“We didn’t mean to make you a frog! We thought the wand was out of power! Please don’t be mad!”
“And please don’t tell anyone about us! If you do, we’ll have to go away!”
Phu was amazed that her anger was going away. She saw on the edge of bed and explored her body. She cupped her breasts and tweaked the nipples, making sure they were back to normal. She stood and let her hands slide down her sides and through her long, silky hair. Then, she turned away from the girls (she didn’t mind that she was giving them a good look at her butt, which she was quite proud of) and probed herself with her fingers to make sure ALL of her was itself again.
She faced the girls, who were holding out her clothes. She made herself smile as she took her panties and began to slide her legs through them. “Don’t worry,” she said. “I understand this was a — an accident. And I won’t tell, no one would believe me and I don’t want you girls to have to go away.”
Everyone was smiling as Phu put on her bra. Then, a small moth fluttered by. A long tongue slid from between Phu’s lips, snagged the moth, and whipped it into Phu’s mouth. At first, everyone was dismayed, but Phu had seen the incident in a mirror on the other side of the room. And Phu began to laugh. The girls joined her.
“Don’t worry, Phu,” they said in unison. We’ll get that fixed, too.”
So THAT’S what the pose was to my mind, and nothing else.
I’m reposting this because the initial posting yesterday was FAR too small. This is a highest resolution which I’m posting here. Lady Kraken has requested a smaller resolution be posted on my deviantART gallery. If you don’t know already, Lady Kraken does excellent work and can use money from commission. She has a deviantART gallery which has links to her Patreon page. Her dART page is here: https://www.deviantart.com/ladykraken
There are, on deviantART, images aplenty of the ladies from Harry Potter, especially Hermione, Ginny, and Luna. But I thought it might be fun to add the series milf, Mrs. Molly Weasley. I’ve always thought of Molly as a BBW, but not fat. Running a household, even a magical one, and raising seven children would require stamina. I like to think using magic is good for the body. So, yes, Molly is plump, but it’s a very SOLID plump!
As for Molly taking this instance to use polyjuice potion to fill in for Ginny on a date, well, I’ll let the Potter fans among us to decide if that is something Molly would really do or not. But I’m sure she behaved herself with Harry.
One problem I have with my interest in transformations is it sometimes leads me to thing I’d otherwise have no interest in. I watched most of a wretched science-fiction comedy series called Out of This World because the main character could transform others and herself. In spite of bad reviews, I saw (and later got theDVD for) Penelope, a movie starring Christina Ricci as a woman cursed with porcine features. I got started on the Nightmare on Elm Street movies after learning that, in the fourth movie, a woman is turned into a cockroach. And, I’ve been trying for years to find a movie called The Man Who Wagged His Tail, in which Peter Ustinov is turned into a dog.
Back in 1987, at a grocery store in Central Wisconsin, I ran across a VHS of a movie called The Revenge of the Teenage Vixens from Outer Space. I read the cover copy of the VHS sleeve, found out there were transformations, and rented the video. But when I got it home, it wouldn’t play on my VCR. (I feel old using some of these terms.) I took it back and they asked if I’d made adjustments on my VCR. I hadn’t, but they wouldn’t give me back the cassette to try and watch it. (I never went back to where I rented the movie.)
A few years later, I caught part of the movie on USA Network’s Up All Night with Rhonda Shear. But I saw nowhere near the entire movie. And I soon forgot the title.
Recently, I asked about the movie on my page at deviantART.com and was reminded of the title. Eventually, I found Teenage Vixens was on YouTube, and I watched it there. So, now, I feel ready to write a review for it.
A quick disclaimer about viewing the movie on YouTube: I looked Teenage Vixens up on imdb.com, and it lists the movie as being one hour and twenty-three minutes long. But what I found on YouTube is only one hour and nine minutes long. As the movie was released during the horny teenager period of movies (in the wake of things like Porky’s and others), the time difference is probably due to the removal of scenes of naked naughty bits. Also, on YouTube, this is shown on a smaller screen where it is surrounded by an image of shimmering golden water. But this is the best most of us will be able to do.
The movie is about four, yes, teenage vixens from another planet, a planet on which there are no men, so they come to Earth for sex. One Vixen had visited years before and gave birth to a son by a high school science teacher. She abandoned Earth and her son, who is now grown up with some powers, including telekinesis which allows him to undo the clothes of his Earth girlfriend, ala Zapped!
The transformations come when the high school kids fail to satisfy the Vixens. Out of frustration, the Vixens whip out ray guns which turn their victims into vegetables. No, it doesn’t render them mindless, it turns them into vegetables! Zucchinis, carrots, etc. The veggies are kind of cheesy, with eyes and tiny mouths which spawn pathetic whimperings. But, if you get into the minds of the kids turned veggies, you realize they’re aware of their new forms and it has to be horrifying for them. And the scenes of the transformations aren’t bad. These are not point ‘n’ poof TFs, and intermediate scenes 0f the changes aren’t great, but they aren’t bad, either. We also have one woman utter the immortal line “I don’t wanna be a tomato!” (You can take “tomato” as slang for a cute woman and make what joke you want to about the line.)
When I looked up The Revenge Of The Teenage Vixens From Outer Space on imdb.com, I clicked on the names of several cast members. For all but one of the ones I clicked on, Teenage Vixens is their only film credit. (I suspect, for some of the girls, as soon as their families saw what they exposed in the film, their parents cut their film careers short right then and there.)
Truly inexplicable is how much a DVD of this movie costs. On Amazon, there are copies available for $99. And on eBay, as I write this, there is one copy for sale — for $225! I wouldn’t mind seeing an uncensored version of the movie, but not for those prices.
Anyway, those REALLY into transformations might like this movie. Otherwise, stick to the YouTube version and be satisfied with it.
Saw this today, and I don’t want to give too much away for this who haven’t seen it yet. There are several “tossed-off” transformations through the movie and one VERY satisfying transformation at the very end. You can have fun imagining what might happen to the transformed later on.
I work for the United States Postal Service, and I’ve noticed this magazine cover for a couple of weeks now. I finally got a copy of it for myself, knowing what I was going to title it on the blog. Here are some answers to the question:
“What’s what on my — Oh, my G — “
“I guess it’s time to tell you. Mommy comes from a place called Equestria, and — “
“This is going to be a special Hallowe’en this year! When I finish changing, you’re going to get to go trick-or-treating on the back of a unicorn!”
“This was just an innocent photo shoot of a little boy and his mom! What kind of sicko fantasizes about that?!”
I think everyone know that Geico has some of the wildest commercials, and you can never tell HOW they’re going to work in their message on how Geico can save you money. They also tend to have clever commercials for Hallowe’en every year. Well, THIS year, 2019, they have this one. Among other things, the behavior of the TF’ed person’s roommate at the end is what REALLY sells this! Enjoy!
Okay, going to try posting something I hope will be interactive for the followers of this blog.
What transformations have you seen depicted in literature, movies, TV, or any media over the years that, for some reason have stayed with you? Maybe they really terrified you, or turned you on, or you loved the story that came with them, but you haven’t been able to forget them.
My all time favorite TF on Bewitched was from a second season episode called “The Catnapper.” In it, a sensational-looking lady client of Darrin’s was turned into a cat by Endora, who thought the client was putting the moves on Darrin. (The client was quite cold, actually, wanting to only get down to business.) What did it for me was, when the woman was changed back, the cat was on Darrin, so the woman was sitting on Darrin’s lap and she was posed like a cat. One of the best examples of timing for a TF ever. (Timing will be a subject for this blog soon.)
The transformation that most freaked me out is in one of the scariest books ever written: The Bible. The story of Lot’s Wife, to be exact. The thought that, if I ever stepped out of line in God’s eyes, I might be turned into a pillar of salt really weirded me out. (And, God knows there are plenty of other scary things God might do, at least according to The Old Testament.)
A few years ago, I read that “turned to salt” was slang in Biblical times for becoming infertile. That helped me finally get over the idea.
But what about the rest of you? What’s a transformation you learned of some time ago that you can’t forget?
You never know what’s going to trigger the muse. In this case, it was the photo below that pushed several of my buttons. It came from a 1959 issue of Modern Man, one of many attempts at duplicating the success of Playboy. The first thing I thought of when I saw it was 50s housewife — what we’d now call a milf. Her total nudity on the porch of what looks to be a cabin made me immediately think she’d been something else moments before. What she had been turned into, why she was turned into it, and her being changed back all were questions this story answers.
I should mention my inspiration for one part of this story. Fifty years ago, there was very popular book published called Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex* *But Were Afraid to Ask by a Dr. David Reuben. (Among other things, it was eventually made into a comedy by Woody Allen.) It was in that book that I read about another use for a bottle of Coca Cola besides quenching one’s thirst. That’s where the idea for Coke’s use in this story comes from.
Also, I decided to set this story in the late 1950s. Hence, most women wearing girdles, and a bottle of Coke costing ten cents.
Finally, be warned that our transformed housewife gets naughty with another of the species that she is turned into. If you think that sort of thing will offend you, please stop reading now.
Why am I here? Donna Anderson asked herself one more time. She knew the answer, she had known it all along. She was here because she was alone. The cancer had taken Henry, and Donna was now alone with the kids. Henry had been wealthy and Donna was not hurting for money. But the kids, Bobby and Billie, had no father figure. There was no one to take them to ball games, movies, to see their class plays, to assume duties with their scout troops. It was the latter that was the reason Donna was here. She was the leader of Billie’s brownie scout troop.
And that was why Donna was here in Camp Tecumseh, leading her daughter’s troop through adventures in nature.
Donna had studied up on the history of the camp, the flora and fauna of the region. and her household duties kept her in good shape for this nature hike. But, if she’d had her druthers, she’d druther be in the wilderness of her home.
“It was Mrs. Gunther O’Hare who we have to thank for these woods,” said Donna, almost by rote, to the troops. “She and her husband moved here and started their distillery. They loved the area, but missed the timber from their native lands. So, Mrs. O’hare brought Irish oaks, ash, other trees from her home, while her husband brought trees from no less than the Black Forest itself.”
One of the girls, Patty Clayton, raised her hand. “Mrs. Anderson?” she asked, “I’ve heard stories that some spirits, woodland folk, came here with the trees. Do you know anything about that?”
“Woodland folk? You mean elves, fairies, leprechauns? Those are nice stories, but there’s nothing to them. We know such things aren’t real.”
Not far away, in a clump of woods, a small voice, unheard by the troop, said “Did that lass, that wench, just insult us, sayin’ we don’t exist?!”
“That she did, mein freund,” came the answer.
The troop continued along their path, when another girl, Cindy Neal, cried out “Oh! Squirrels! But what are they doing?”
Donna looked at the rodents and saw they were happily engaged in sex. Donna did NOT want to have that conversation yet, especially not with Billie there. She thought quickly. “Remember when we learned the Heimlich maneuver a few weeks ago? The squirrel on the bottom got something stuck in its throat, and the other squirrel is helping the first to breathe.”
“Ooh!” came the first voice again. “Did’ja hear that lie! Bad enough she insists we’re just old wives’ tales, but now she’s deliberately misleadin’ these fine, innocent, young lasses! I don’t like it.”
“Nor do I,” came a third voice. The two folk felt a chill run down their spines. This new voice came from the forest itself, intertwined with the trees. They knew the entity and its power and gave it the greatest respect they could.
“Helping the other squirrel to breathe?” The squirrels ended their activity and the female ran into the woods. “Let’s have our fine squirrel here help this — woman — to breath.”
Donna was about to lead the troop further down the path, when she felt — something. All of her skin was tingling, itching — twitching? — as if something was trying to come out from under it. And there was a sudden pressure from her body against her girdle, something near the base of her spine, just over her butt.
Then, Donna began to dwindle in size. Her face changed, became more oval and her nose flattened. She felt the teeth in her mouth changing, especially her incisors, They were growing longer, sharper. And her ears were MOVING from the side to the top of her head.
The pressure against her girdle lessened. She realized it was because she was shrinking out of her clothes. And after the money she’d spent for her troop leader uniform!
“Mommy?” said Billie. “What’s happening to you?”
Donna tried to reply “I don’t know,” but a chittering is what came out of her mouth. She looked at her hands and saw that they weren’t hands anymore — they were a kind of — paw? She saw a huge, white strap and a voluminous cavern entrance by her body. She realized she was looking at her bra! She used her new appendages to feel her torso. Her breasts — were they breasts any more? She slid her paws down the front of her torso. There was something there, two, four, six — eight! They weren’t breasts, but there were eight of them!
Donna hopped out of her uniform and looked around her. All of the children, and the other troop leaders, towered over her. She wanted to bolt, to flee into the trees. And, as she looked around, she saw something beside her. Donna touched it, and realized it was attached to her butt! She had a tail!
She had turned into a squirrel.
She suddenly became VERY aware of a sensation in her loins, a burning but a pleasant burning. Was she in heat? Did squirrels go into heat?
She heard chittering again, but, this time it wasn’t from her. She looked to her left and, only a few feet away, was the same squirrel that had — she couldn’t say the word — with the other squirrel. And he (yes, “he,” she thought) was very interested in her! Part of her mind was definitely squirrel, aware of sounds and smells Donna the Woman couldn’t detect. And there was a very strong smell coming from her, one the male seemed attracted by.
“I Chitchat!” said the other squirrel. It didn’t actually speak, but Donna could understand it. “Make babies? Make babies in you?”
The part of her mind that was still Donna was not ready for this turn of events any more than she had been ready to explain it to the troop. She ran toward and then up a tree, surprised by how easy it was to do, especially on all fours! But she saw Chitchat was right behind her.
Donna ran out on a branch and saw it was coming to an end. A branch from another tree was nearby, but too far for her to jump to. Wasn’t it?
You can make the jump, came a voice. Donna had no idea where it came from, but she kept running and made the leap, grabbing the new branch and scampering onto the tree it was connected to.
Chitchat was still behind her.
The chase continued from branch to branch, tree to tree. Her squirrel brain was asking why she was fleeing. If she just stopped and let the other squirrel have its way with her, it would be natural. And she would enjoy it!
The human part of her brain was receding, giving way to the rodent. Finally, she reached the roof of a cabin and scampered down to its porch, where she stopped. She lifted her tail and, a second later, the other squirrel was on her. No. He was in her! She let the sensation flow from her haunches through her tiny body.
Donna became aware of herself as she had never been aware before. She could feel the tiny heart inside her pounding out she could not tell how many times a second. Counting, seconds, they weren’t even concepts in her head right now. She did think of how small Chitchat’s “squirrel-hood” was, how small he was. He shouldn’t be able to make her feel the way she did at that time. But, wasn’t she small herself? To her, Chitchat was HUGE! He had no trouble thrusting himself into her. And she enjoyed it. No, she LOVED it!
Have you any problem with nature anymore? asked the voice.
No, thought Donna the Squirrel. This is wonderful! Nature is wonderful! I will share it with my little girl, with the troop, with EVERYONE!
Then, Donna could think of nothing but her climax, hers and Chitchat’s. Donna let the feeling reverberate through her body. As it did, she didn’t notice her change at first. She was growing, her haunches turning into full human legs, her tiny teats turning back into breasts, her forepaws becoming hands. She was human again!
Her brain was swirling. She became aware of something on her butt. There was something small hugging and pinching her cheeks. And there was something thrusting itself into her, and tiny drops squirting into her insides. She glanced behind herself and saw Chitchat holding onto her hindquarters and finishing up his intercourse with her.
“Chitchat?” she said, but in a human voice. Chitchat looked up any her in surprise, chattered something at her in squirrel, then dismounted and scampered up and into the trees.
Shakily, Donna stood up on her legs. Her mind was still full of the wonderfulness of her time with Chitchat. She was having a hard time thinking, not sure who she was, what she was, where she was.
“Mom?” came a familiar voice. She looked out and saw a group of cub scout faces, each one with mouths wide open. This was the first time, she thought, they’d probably ever seen a naked woman outside of a magazine before. The chase from Chitchat had brought her over to the cub scout section, the boy’s section, of the camp.
And her son, Bobby, was with them.
At first, Donna’s urge was to cover herself as best as she could with her arms. But then, the lesson of the voice, of the wonderfulness of nature, came back into her head. She stood up, put her hands on her hips, and let the boys (and THEIR troop leaders) take in her body. She smiled.
“It’s okay, Bobby,” she said, noticing her son’s dismay. “It’s natural that your friends are enjoying this. I don’t mind if they look.”
After five minutes of being on view, Donna started back to the brownie side of the camp. She smiled as she put a little extra “swing” into her hips as she walked away from the boys,
As she took the path that led from the cub scout camp to that of the brownies, Donna luxuriated in what she was feeling. The sense of being one with nature was still with her, and she LOVED it! The slightest, gentle breeze, the scents of the woods, the horniness of the creatures in the area, be they mammals, reptile, bird, whatever!
Her reverie was broken by a sudden succession of loud bursts, one right after the other. She looked to her side and saw some brownies and cub scouts gathered together. They were watching a string of firecrackers someone had set off. One of the boys looked up and gasped as he noticed noticed Donna in her naked glory. “Mrs. Anderson?” he said.
Donna blushed as they stared at her. Then, she noticed more firecrackers nearby.
“Be careful with those things!” she said. “Keep your distance when you’re setting them off!”
“We will,” said a girl. “Howcum you’re naked?”
“It’s a long story. I’ll tell it around the campfire tonight.”
Donna continued on, well aware that the campers were following her closely with their eyes. She reached the spot where she had hopped out of her clothes when she became a squirrel. She knew the first thing she had to do and reached into her pocket and pulled out a couple of dimes. She was about to pick up her clothes and cover herself when she heard a click.
There was another troop leader, Hazel Hopkins.
With her Polaroid camera.
“Hazel,” said Donna. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” said Hazel, smiling the nasty smile only she could smile.
Donna and Hazel had been rivals ever since elementary school. They had competed for baton twirler, for boys, for Henry. Hazel had never forgiven Donna’s marrying Henry. She later married Ted, but acted like he was a consolation prize. The same went for her daughter by Ted, Millie. Millie and Billie were good friends, but Hazel tried to interfere even with that!
“I’ve been telling everyone for years that you weren’t fit to be a mother. And now, I have proof! Parading your goods around in front of children!”
“I have an explanation for this,” said Donna. “And both Millie and Billie can back me up!”
“Like anyone will listen to them after they see this! Oh, and look, there are campers behind you, gaping at your bare behind! I’ll see that you’re thrown out of this camp, and then work to have your kids taken away from you! They’ll be in an orphanage, wondering how Mommy could let this happen!”
“Hazel, you’ve always been a stinker, but this tops anything you’ve done before!”
“I’m not the one who made you walk around stark naked! But, yes, I am a stinker! The biggest, natural born stinker there is!”
Maybe not right now, said the voice, which Donna could hear. But taking children from their mother! This one WILL be a stinker, right now!
Suddenly, Hazel collapsed to the ground, with just enough control to set the camera down softly. Hazel began to contract in size, as the other campers looked on, including Millie. Another breeze wafted by Donna, and she caught the whiff of the suddenly VERY pungent odor coming from Hazel’s clothes. Something was moving under them. And a skunk poked its head out from the neck of Hazel’s uniform.
“Mommy?” whimpered Millie. As bad a mother as hazel was, her daughter still cared about her. Hazel the skunk scampered about the ground while Millie tried to catch her. She found herself behind her mother when another string of firecrackers went off.
And the sudden noise made Hazel spray her daughter.
A huge wail came from Millie’s mouth. Susie Lawrence, one of the older girl scouts, quickly ran up to Millie and crouched next to her.
“Millie,” she said. “Are you okay? None of that got into your mouth or eyes, did it?”
Donna had never even thought what it might be like to be sprayed by a skunk. To her relief, Millie shook her head to Suzie’s question.
“Do you need help?” asked Donna.
Suzie shook her head. “We’ve got kits in the shed to take care of this.”
“You’d better get one for Mrs. Hopkins, too. I think she’s going to need it.”
While the brownies left to help Millie, Donna put dimes in the pop machine and pulled out two bottles of Coke. She used the machine’s bottle opener to pop the caps off. Then she walked to the lake and waded into the water. She stayed by the dock and, when the water was near the top of her thighs, she set one bottle down on the dock, and put her thumb over the opening of the other bottle,
She shook the bottle vigorously, keeping her thumb over the opening TIGHT! Then, she moved the bottle between her legs, took her thumb off of the top, and jammed the bottle into her vagina. She wondered if anyone at the Coca-Cola company knew about this use of their product. A lot of the women there probably did. She wasn’t sure if her romp with Chitchat could produce anything, but she didn’t want to take the change. The Coke was quick, simple, cheap, and convenient, and should flush out Chitchat’s sperm as good as any douche. Just to make sure, she repeated the procedure with the second bottle. Then, she waded further into the lake until the water was up to her neck. She let herself float, her legs as far apart as they would go, shaking them to get water inside her to wash any remaining Coke and squirrel jism out of her. then, she swam for a little while to try and relax herself. Donna was still feeling afterglow from her time with Chitchat.
Donna thought she should probably get another pair of Cokes for Hazel for when she changed back.
If she changed back.
And were there any male skunks nearby?
Donna glanced at where Hazel’s clothes lay on the ground. The camera Hazel had taken photos with were lying on the ground by the clothing. And there, also on the ground, was the picture Hazel had taken of Donna. Donna picked up the photo and stared at it, when she heard a voice behind her.
A movement near the edge of the woods caught her eye. There was Hazel the Skunk, crouched in the weeds. Another skunk, a male, Donna was sure, was scampering away. Hazel began to change again, her fur and tail and general skunk-ness went away. Soon, Hazel the woman was laying naked in the weeds.
Hazel, with a contrite expression on her face, looked at Donna. “Go ahead and tear the photo up. I’m sorry now that I took it.”
Hazel held her arms away from her body, as if something very distasteful had happened. When Hazel was close enough, Donna could smell what had happened, Hazel reeked worse than Millie had.
“Did I just go through what you went through?” asked Hazel. “Is that why you ended up naked?”
“Yes,” said Donna. “But with me, it was a squirrel, not a skunk. I think this camp is situated in woods where Mother Nature is VERY much in charge.”
“That’s the voice I heard! Mother Nature!”
“I think so, yes. Anyway, the girls are treating Millie for when you sprayed her. They should be able to ‘de-skunk’ you.”
“I sprayed Millie! ? Oh, no! I’ve been so mean to my poor little girl!”
“You couldn’t help it. You were a skunk and there were firecrackers.”
“Not just that! I’ve been so neglectful! The voice made me realize that! I’m going to be a better mother, a better person from now on!”
“I’d hug you right now,” said Donna. “But I think it can wait until after you’re de-skunked!”
That night, in her cabin, Donna thought about the day. Her transformation, her time with Chitchat, Hazel’s reformation, everything. Hazel confessed that, whenever she thought about her scent as a skunk, the thought made her horny. (At Donna’s suggestion, Hazel had also treated herself with Coca Cola.) And they both agreed that, around the campfire soon, they’d explain the facts of life to the girls.
Donna was finding it hard to sleep. She kept thinking of Chitchat. It wasn’t love, but there was a definite arousal with the thought. She stripped off her pajamas and began to finger herself. But it wasn’t the same, something was missing. Suddenly, she felt the same sensation she had felt before when she had shrunk out of her clothes. Quickly, she got up, strode to the cabin door, opened it, and stepped outside. A moment later, a squirrel scampered into the woods, calling for Chitchat.
WARNING: There is art in this posting that may very well offend some of my followers. In fact, the subject of this post may offend some people. I’m putting this up to find out if I should or shouldn’t post such things, and would like feedback offering opinions on the subject.
The two pieces of art in this posting are pages I displayed in my deviantART gallery for one weekend. I then took them down for fear that I might have violated some rules that could get me kicked OFF of deviantART.
I’ve seen some stories and art over the years where people transform themselves or HAVE themselves transformed to enjoy some not-quite interspecies sex. Sometimes, their transformation isn’t voluntary, but they decide to enjoy themselves in their new form.
(The short-lived Penthouse Comix of about 25 years ago had a story called “Witch Bitch,” about a witch who turned herself into a pit bull to kill a man. But animal control was there with a muzzle. And this also prevented her from making the three barks which would’ve changed her back into a woman. But she was also apparently in heat, and decided to enjoy the “benefits” of her new form as a “saucy bitch.”)
The idea of a transformed man or woman engaging in intercourse with the species of their new form had never occurred to me until I saw a page-long strip in the September 1972 issue of Ace! a men’s magazine of the time. And, I’m a little ashamed to say that I liked it.
My feeling is, in most cases, this isn’t bestiality, because the transformed is, physically, the same species he or she is mingling with. I like to think that, in their brain, there’s enough of the human to appreciate the wildness, the naturalness, of what they’re doing. I like to think, when they change back, that the woman immediately reaches for the douche to make sure nothing comes of the session. (In Greek and Roman mythology, Zeus or Jupiter would often assume bestial forms while seducing maidens, and this sometimes resulted in creatures such as The Minotaur.)
In the pages here, which I commissioned from an artist on eBay, our rookie Mountie is more dismayed by her uniform disappearing than her eventual transformation. (Her horse probably never understood why his rider, who he does have strong feelings for, covered herself up as she did, though he does obviously like her hat.) And, when her change is complete, she experiences one more sensation that makes her more receptive to her finding new meaning to the term “mounted policewoman.” The horse would not assume the position unless and until she was ready for it.
I was told by a comment on this art before I removed it from my gallery that deviantART would not have punished me for posting it, as it did not actually show penetration. That is something I won’t do. I prefer to write and display erotica, not porn.
Anyway, there it is. I’d like to know, should I post stuff like this in the blog occasionally. Or would you prefer I stay away from it. Depending on the reaction, I will or will not keep this posting on the blog.
One last warning: You’ve probably figured out what the second and final page of art is going to portray. If that’s something you don’t want to look at, then don’t scroll to it.
Chances are you are not familiar with this book. But you may be familiar with at least one of the FOUR movies this book has inspired, three of them theatrical, one of them made-for-television. Three of the four all have the same title: The Shaggy Dog. (The author of the book, Felix Salten, has done all right by Disney. He was also the writer who gave the world Bambi.)
The book is very different from the movies. (Not surprising, given the Disney Studios’ track record over the years with adaptations.) Set in Renaissance Florence, Italy, it follows an aspiring young artist named Lucas Grassi. There are no Borgias, no In Canis Corpora Transmuto, no ring.
Actually, I take that last back. In the book, Lucas observes a procession which includes an Archduke and his dog. And Lucas says “I even envy that dog!” As he watches through a window, he bangs his fist on the windowsill and says “If I were allowed to be myself every other day , only every other day, I wouldn’t mind a bit … I shouldn’t mind being that dog if I could go with them on their journey.
“Whereupon in the twinkling of an eye he found he was a dog running along by the side of the Archduke’s coach.”
What happened was “When he struck the windowsill with his fist,Lucas had not noticed that there was a ruddy-looking metal ring sunk into the dirty old wood work. Indeed, in his excitement, he was quite unconscious of the violent movements of his hand. How was he to know that the thin yellow loop which cut a circle in the wood, was of pure gold? How was he to guess that the spot where it was imbedded possessed the virtue of fulfilling for anyone a wish expressed while his hand lay on the magic circle?”
And so, Lucas spends one day as a man, the next as a dog, a hound named Cambyses, and so on, back and forth, as the days go by.
The book is a bit of a slog, with Salten deciding it his duty to do a travelogue of Renaissance Florence. And the book is brutal in places, with Cambyses being kicked and beaten in several scenes for disobeying his master or his master’s servants, not the least of which is the dog’s disappearing every other day. Many characters are carrying daggers, which you sense will not end happily for Cambyses.
There is no warning or sensation for the transformation. One moment, Lucas is a man walking on two legs, learning from the hands of one of the great artists of the time, the next he is a dog on all fours. The book is a little confusing in that Lucas, when he turns canine, is once again with the Archduke, where he was when he changed.
Instead of Annette, Lucas and Cambyses meet up with Claudia, a courtesan with many admirers, some of whom she treats as good friends and lovers, others to whom she is, yes, a bitch. (I’ll admit, I would have loved to have seen Lucas’ transformations suddenly transferred to Claudia. Alas, it doesn’t happen.) It is while Lucas is with Claudia that one of the darker scenes of the book, the murder of a rival by a man spurned by Claudia, takes place, leading to many of the victim’s friends looking for his killer.
I’m lucky enough to have an edition of this book from 1930, when it had illustrations by an artist named Kurt Wiese. Modern editions of this book, at least the one I got for the cover art at this review’s beginning, do not have the illustration.
The original German-language edition of this story, I’ve heard, has a much darker ending than the English translations. The latter leave Lucas/Cambyses’ fate more up in the air.
It isn’t the greatest book, even for transformation lovers. But you might want to give it a look. And, for now, you can wonder: Why doesn’t Disney do a female version of this book? And maybe they could’ve done it after the original version came out? It might’ve been fun to see Annette transforming.