The Canadian Government is a bunch of dicks. Ever seen how they sell cigarettes? Very dickish. They made this. Don't watch it if you have a weak stomach...
Awful isn't it? Horrific. That image will be burned into your mind for days.
Those of you that know me know what comes next.... come on. Say it. You know it. I can wait.....
... Ready?
Kitchen Safety
By Venus R Becky
"I am the Sous Chef here. In a year, I will be head chef," Rachael Crockery, the Sous Chef said to the noob kitchen assistant . She shook her head. The new ones always annoyed her so much. "See this, I got an amazing fiance. I'm marrying him in two weeks," she said holding up her finger with an impressive engagement ring on it. "He's the head chef's son. I will pretty much own this place after that, OK?"
"Yea, but," Toni Flay tried to speak up to her new boss, but on her first day it was a little hard.
"But what? Look, I am sick of you fresh out culinary school rookies telling me how to run a kitchen. What do you want to complain about? Hm?" Rachael asked giving a long, hard, and bitter stare at the new girl. Like most veteran chefs, she had a temp in the kitchen and did put up with anything, especially from a noob like this Tanya...or Tammy, or whatever her name was.
"This uniform doesn't feel very..." she began, but trailed off not knowing what to say.
"Doesn't feel very what? Look, this is what the pros wear. Its not just about Five Star food, but efficiency, style and attitude," she said in a voice like she was giving a lecture to a child. "We wear nothing under our white chef coats because it helps us move faster and deal with the heat. And we don't button them so they don't restrict our movement." She opened her coat and showed off her body, nude and glistening with sweat. Her breasts perky and modest, and her pussy perfectly shaved. Her body was fit and lean. The noob next to her was dressed the same, but she was shorter and a bit pudgier, but it helped to fill out the young blond woman's ass and tits well.
"Yea, but," Toni tried to speak up again.
"Shut up and listen," Racheal had none of it. "We wear the high heels," she said sticking her leg out of her white jacket. She wore a shiny black four inch pump, the same as the noob and every other chef in the place. "For style. And if you can't get that through your thick little skull, you will never get attitude. And you're on dish duty until you figure it out."
"But what about safety? I mean, this isn't very safe for a kitchen," Toni finally pointed out.
"What the fuck do you know? I've been doing this for fucking years and you walk in on your first day and give me a little lecture on safety? I don't think so bitch. No go wash the fucking pans before I kick her ass out of her," Rachael screamed back at the noob. She had had enough and turned around to leave. "And I don't want to hear another word out you silly coooOOWW!" She yelled as her heel hit a spot of grease as she went flying backward, head over heels. She landed head down and waist deep in the Cake Mixer and Maker Machine.
Toni watched as the woman's legs waved in the air. Her jacket had fallen down to expose her ass. Toni looked around to see if anyone else had cared. The other chefs seemed to be going about their business like nothing had happened. Toni stepped closer to the machine. It was round, about three feet in diameter. The automatic lid was up and the control panel was blinking "Prep." Toni hesitated to grab the woman out, but as she reached for the legs, she was interrupted.
"Where is Rachael?" a man interrupted Toni just before her rescue. He was young, about Rachael's age and in an expensive black suit. Toni meekly pointed to the legs waving in the air. "Dam it, I keep warning about safety hazards. You think after four years back here she would have learned to walk in heels!" He reached for the legs and firmly grabbed the black heels pulling them off her feet. "Here, take these back to the supply closet when you get a chance."
Toni took the shoes and put them down on a nearby shelf. She was intrigued about how this man was behaving. He was the owner and head chef's son. He was the one who hired her after all. Her eyes grew a little wide as she watched the man's hand reach for the control panel, and the large green button. He did not even hesitate pushing it. And the lid began to close. The man guided Rachael's legs into the machine as the lid closed on top of them. She seemed to fight a little more, but his grip was too firm and too strong to stop from being forced inside.
"Ummm, but what about Sous Chef? Shouldn't we pull her out?" Toni asked in a curious but meek tone.
"I always warned her about safety. Pay attention though, you should know how this works. It's an automated Girl Cake Maker. Rachael should have added a girl in before, but tonight will have to be a double. Over here is your control panel. Make sure to read the instructions first. Stay away from moving parts. Only Add Girls During the Prep Stage. If you add the girls after Prep, the cakes will be lumpy and might have a nipple or worse a pussy on them," he says tapping the control panel, it now said Flavor Mix. "Right now it is adding in the flavors, chocolate, cherry, strawberry, from these containers," he gestured to some containers hanging next to the machine with tubes running to the top of the lid. "It does it all automated. The cakes will come out on the other side, down the short conveyor. It pours a perfect cake into each pan. You just need to take them and move them to the oven. Understand?"
"I think so..." she said as she looked at the machine as it switched to Blend mode. She sounded a bit more professional now, and confident that someone was explaining things to her in a reasonable manner.
"Good, you won't believe the hours this thing saves us on Prep work. We get twice the number of cakes in no time. And we can still say Baked on Premises," he smiled to the new girl. "Oh, I almost forgot. Don't normal do this, it could be dangerous," he told her as he it a button, the machine stopped churning for a moment and the lid lifted.
Inside, Rachael's head popped out of the batter. Her hair was matted down with batter, and her entire was face was covered except for her eyes. It was clear she had eaten some, willing or not, as it poured out of her mouth. "Oh thank god Matt! I though you were going let this thing finish!" she screamed out as she saw him reach down toward her.
"Don't want polyester cheesecake, do we?" he said pulling out her white coat from the batter mix. "Drop this in the laundry. Thanks Toni." He smiled to her again and Toni nodded, blushing a little.
Rachael's eyes grew wide wish shock. "Dam it Matt! What the fuck! I'm melting in here! I can't feel my legs anymore! Don't let it take my pussy! We're suppose to married in two weeks! You can't fucking do this to me! I'm to important to be fucking cake!s HEY! LISTEN TO ME! STOP PAYING ATTENTION TO THAT TART!" she screamed at him as the lid came down and clicked. The Blend mode quickly resumed. It was hard to hear the muffled cried as the machine picked up speed. Soon it was finishing up, and swirled cheesecakes began to flow down the converyor, one at a time. Each cake had a face of it. All of them Chef Rachael. The face was mixed in the chocolate swirl, almost like an illusion that made for a great effect. Each face was different, some looked surprised, others fearful. A few even had a look of lust and one toward the end was angry.
"So take care of the cake, and listen to the head chef and you should do great hear Toni. Oh and make sure to test one. A good chef should always know what the food in the kitchen tastes like," Matt said as he smiled to her. "Anymore questions?"
"Just one," she said pulled a cake off the belt. Rachael's large engagement ring in the middle. The diamond sticking up. "So I hear you're single now?"
When I thought of the ending, I pictured the theme from Curb Your Enthusiasm playing. Not sure why. I think that music just caps an odd scene well. It was short and rushed, but what it needed to get done it had to be. I didn't think the character's had time to taste the food. And it would have ruined the surprise of the accident's acceptance if the Chef Rachael cursed at an ingredient girl on the counter. And to keep the perspective of Toni and the idea of Rachael being gone I couldn't really describe what was happening to her inside much. But I think it still works.
Not bad for an hour and half and a really creepy video.
Your thoughts?
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Monday, August 17, 2009
Becky Doesn't Play Well with Others
People who know me learn quickly that I don't hold back. I let my mind be known. I say what I want and mean it. Other people's feelings don't get in the way of the truth. And this is especially true about posted. Works, sometimes photographs, rarely art, but especially stories. I let people know their story sucks, but I also tell them what they do to make it better. My college English professor accused me of being "an editor who doesn't care about the authors intent." Well if the author sucks, I don't care, but I always want to make it better.
Which is why it was sad last night when I asked to see a story from my friend, Doc Purple. I had avoided seeing it since he completely ignored notes I gave him on a GI Joe fan fic. My ideas were pretty good and I may post the pitch later, but I was still miffed. He took none of my ideas and scrapped the story. So when he sent the story last night, I held nothing back. I savaged every part of it. Telling him he could do much, much better. He seemed to avoid saying much. No one likes negative comments. It kind of serves him right, he did send me to the Nostalgia Critic's site. And I watched his 100 or so review in a week. Brutal mocking was fresh in my mind.
So, now, in public, it is time to show him. Illustrate how his ideas can shine. I am going to rewrite, on the spot, a section of his story, and make it ten times sexier than his original version.
First some back story. He is going for a Haunted House motif. He only calls the house "down the narrow, ever winding roads in the backwoods of West Virginia" and the style of the house "some combination of Mediterranean and Victorian Era influences." Its a cliche, and cliches rock! They give the reader something familiar to relate to, even if they never been to a Gilded Age mansion. The rest of the foreshadowing says something happened here in the 40's or the 50's.
The characters are five random and diverse friends. Four girls and guy. The dude, the slut, the quiet girl, the Asian rich girl, and a perky goth. We will be following Eliza, the perky goth. Don't ask how she is dressed or any details on her appearance other than her perky nature, so let's just assume she looks like the generic girl who fell into a clothing rack at Hot Topic. Oh, and her friends think she is a bitch. We have a perky, bitchy goth.
Here is the excerpt I am writing.
No matter how Eliza positioned herself on the bed, she couldn’t get any sleep. She was wide awake and didn’t understand why. She remembered being tired and dozing off. It seemed like only 30 minutes ago. The House was oppressively silent. She could hear her heart beat very clearly; hear the blood flow in her ears. She pulled a pillow over her face but that didn’t help either. With a huff and a groan she tossed the pillow aside and felt her way to the lamp next to the bed. The light came on and she peeled the covers back. She was in a black thong and a purple tank top. She thought perhaps a warm bubble bath would relax her enough to get some sleep and fortunately for her someone had stocked the bathroom with everything she needed.
Upstairs, Jill’s mind kept wandering back to the note she had found in the study. What was the machine mentioned in that entry? Who were the people that were there before? She left her room and crept downstairs; down to the study...What the fuck is this? That happened to Eliza? She was taking a bath? Now we are with Jill in the study? We are glossing over a bath tube scene? In a pornographic story? This was one of my complaints. He never sets scenes and rolls with it. He kept jumping around to different characters, different spots. Constantly braking the mood. And in a horror style story, even with a B Film feel, you need a mood. Set a scene, roll with it, do the other stuff before or after.
Elsewhere, Eliza stepped into back the bedroom wearing only a towel. Her skin still glistened with the oil she had used in her bath earlier. She was about to retrieve her clothes from off the bed when she discovered they were missing. In fact, all her clothes were missing.
“Damn it, Dinah! Where are my things?” she said out loud, believing one of her friends was playing a trick on her. She pulled the closet door open but there was no one hiding inside nor was there anything to wear. “Scott, is this your doing you sick pervert?” she asked, looking under the bed. It appeared she was alone.
She stood, her short black hair slicked back and dripping, and pondered the idea of having to leave the privacy of the room and the humiliation of explaining this to Kimmi or Jill so she could borrow something to wear. Her thoughts however were interrupted by the distinct sound of wood groaning as it was bent by unseen forces. Eliza turned to see the form of a nude woman take shape within the walnut paneling of the wall. Though she was suspended in place, the apparition had no trouble moving as the wood seemed to stretch like plastic to whichever way she moved. Eliza at this point was too horrified for words. She had dropped her towel and was oblivious to her own nudity. The apparition smiled; every detail of her anatomy easily recognized from her long flowing hair to her small, stubby toes.
“We want you.” it stated plainly. Its voice was a combination of several women speaking in unison. “Join us sister. Become a part of us!”
Eliza screamed and bolted for the door but when she opened it there was a black rubbery mass in her way. It quivered and moved like gelatinous blob. She knew better than to run through it. She turned just as a second mass uncoiled in the doorway like a curtain made of latex. She walked face first into it and was caught like a mouse in a glue trap. Her screams were silenced as the inky membrane entered her mouth. The two masses came together. They clung to her skin and adhered to her every curve. She looked as though she were in a vacbed.
“Oh, how delicious!” the entity purred. “You’re going to love it here. We have so much to show you!”
The membrane was entering Eliza through other openings. It was warm and she was very uncomfortable. She could feel herself being repositioned for some unknown design; arms crossed just below her breasts and her left knee bent ever so slightly. Her flesh was hot, cold, tingly, and numb all at the same time. There was a sudden sharp pain in her shoulder blades as two small leathery wings sprouted from her back. The excess mass seemed to melt away into oblivion leaving only her dark figure. Even so, the young woman lacked the ability to move. Subtle anatomical details were beginning to surface. One could make out her fingers and nails; see individual strands of her slicked back hair. Her entire body was striped length wise with razor thin slivers of silver. Eliza had become a beautiful winged statue of polished black marble.
The new gargoyle’s smile masked the horror she had felt just moments before her transformation completed. She would be stone forever; always having the body of a nineteen year old, always having small perky breasts. With her work complete, the entity receded into the wall.
No one had heard Eliza scream. Not even Jill who had been on the same floor roughly thirty minutes ago when it happened. She had already gone to bed since she was unable to find anything other than the paper with the numbers written on it. The following morning when Kimmi went to Eliza’s room, she didn’t find her goth friend but she did find her belongings and a note that was written in her hand writing.
Hey guys,
I forgot to get some personal things so I ran to the store. Make sure Dinah doesn't mess with my stuff!
-Eliza
Go ahead, call me cruel. Say it was fine. It was a TF in a page and a half. It missed opportunities, it never fleshed it out. It wasted a striptease, a bath, and a half a page of a vague transformation that is really two transformations.
No matter how Eliza positioned herself on the bed, she couldn’t get any sleep. She was wide awake and didn’t understand why. She remembered being tired and dozing off. It seemed like only 30 minutes ago. The House was oppressively silent. She could hear her heart beat very clearly; hear the blood flow in her ears. She pulled a pillow over her face but that didn’t help either. With a huff and a groan she tossed the pillow aside and felt her way to the lamp next to the bed. The light came on and she peeled the covers back. She was in a black thong and a purple tank top. She thought perhaps a warm bubble bath would relax her enough to get some sleep.
Stumbling a bit, still tipsy from the drinking they had done that night, she hit leaned against the door of the bathroom. She gazed into the bathroom. "Fully stocked, like a hotel. Bullshit, Kimmi's dad knew we were coming." The slurred as she stumbled into the bathroom, and plopped her plump ass onto the toilet seat. Unlike Kimmi and Jill, Eliza, the group's perky goth, saw no need for the gym. It was better not to go. A soft belly for some extra mass in her tits and ass wasn't a bad deal.
Eliza shook her head clear and ran the water the water for the bath. The pipe creaked as the warm water flowed into the bath. Odd how it came out immediately warm, quickly feeling the tub. "Bubbles," Eliza mumbled as she looked over the soap caddy. Sure enough, there was a full bottle of bubble soap in a bright pink bottle. The tipsy goth dumped in what must have been half the bottle before tossing it back with the other soaps. The bubbles came fast, rising to the rim.
Eliza stood up and took her tank top off, letting her bra less breasts bounce free. Her dainty pink nipples sitting on top of two plump breasts. She stretched and looked at her body in the mirror, smirking with her black painted lips. She gently ran her hands over her breasts and down to her black thong with naughty girl written on the whale tale. Letting it fall to the floor, she stretched her legs before stepping into the tub.
"Whoa, that's perfect!" she cooed as she slipped into the bath, sliding under, letting her breasts float on top of the water. The floating pile of bubbles tickling her nipples. It was like sleeping in a warm, wet cloud, it was just what she needed. The house's noises weren't bothering anymore. She was relaxed... she fell asleep, right there in the tub.
And Scene. Ad Lib bath scene. Gave some character development. You know what her body looks like, something about her friends, and a little more about her clothes. Its rough, but it works for something on the fly. Now, while she sleeps, would be the perfect time to do a detailed scene of Jill stumbling around the study.
And when Eliza, the perky goth, wakes up, we rejoin her.
Eliza a woke a few hours later. The bubbles had vanished, settling down into the water, giving a cloudy look. The water's pleasant warm feel had drifted away, leaving a luke warm feel. Her neck hurt too from laying against the porcelain tub. She stood up, stretching her body again. She ran her hands through her wet hair, slicking it back behind her head. She let the water drip off her body before reaching for one of the soft, clean, fluffy white towel hanging on the rack.
"Oh yea, no one knows we were come up here. The turn down service is just standard on empty houses," she mumbled as she wrapped the towel around her body, snugly wrapped around her breasts and walking back into the bedroom. Her legs glistening still from the bubble bath she used. Eliza walked over to the dresser were she put her clothes, and opened it.
“Damn it, Dinah! Where are my things?” she screamed as she slammed the draw shut and moved through the next several. All empty. This was just like a drunk Dinah, for one of her stories. Eliza knew how it would play out. She would leave her room to find her clothes, and she would find them, piece by piece, in a trail, leading to the garden or something. Dinah would be behind her giggling, waiting, stalking for the moment. POUNCE! The blonde would grab her towel and run outside. "She thinks she can get me, oh no, I'm not falling for it this..."
The woman froze. Her still wet body dripping on the floor making a small puddle. Her jaw dropped. There was no way. The walnut panel on the far side of the room was moving, coming at her. It had a shape! It was a woman! A woman coming out of the wood. It was clear as day. The goth girl trembled and backed into the dresser. Her white eyes spread open, unblinking at the sight. Her slick, wet legs trembling under her short towel.
“We want you,” she spoke in an eerie plain voice. The wooden woman was half out of the panel. Her thighs merging back into the panel. Her body was in full, perfect detail. To pointed nipples sat on to moderate sides breasts, her flat stomach with a petite navel and smooth pussy lips between her thighs. Her hair drifting about her head, passing from a complete mass to incredibly fine threads as it moved and waved. Her arms pulled back into the wall as if someone were on the other side holding her in. Her face smiling and angelic, she poke again, but this time, it sounded as if more than one woman was speaking. All in perfect. “Join us sister. Become a part of us! We even have a special place for a dark girl like you. Join us!"
Eliza darted into the bathroom as the voices giggles at her. Her glistening nude body on pull display as she tried to hide, slamming the door shut and trembling inside the room. "This isn't Dinah....what the fuck!" Her eyes darted around the room, but the room had no windows, and the giggling wouldn't stop. It was like the door wasn't even closed. The goth crossed her arms over her chest and backed away from the door. She saw movement in her periphery, and darted her head to her side. She let out a chilling scream.
"See, you're starting to join us already. Isn't it delicious? You'll love it here. We have so many fun things to show you," the single voice spoke again. The face that stared back at Eliza was her own, but a far darker version. Her skin was a dull gray, her teeth and her teeth fangs. Her eyes shined a dark, blood red that gave a piercing lifeless stare. Her forehead broke for two stubby horns. Her hair, now a dark black and draping down her back to her ass, was profiled by two pointy ears.
"What have you done to me?" she screamed as she stared down at her hands and feet. Now two pairs of claws with only three digits each. Her feet with a fourth claw sticking out the back of her morphed feet. Eliza's mind couldn't comprehend what she was seeing, she could only screech. Her voice making a feminine wail that only a banshee could produce. She stopped only when she turned to see the tube. The bubbles had returned and were growing, forming a shape. The bubbles took the shape of a woman, another woman. Eliza just shrieked again.
"Join us!" the voices said again before the bubbles flew at Eliza, knocking her back, through the door that opened by itself. The transformed coed hit the floor. She struggled as the bubbles covered her body. Tickling her as it did before, mocking her. Soon all she could do was wiggle on the floor in a mass of bubbles. She was having troubling catching her breath as she was in a mixture of tickles and horror. Finally she got out another scream, only to let the bubbles flow into her mouth silencing her. The bubbles moved fast. Entering her body through her every hole. Her tongue felt the taste of soap as it flowed down her through. She could feel them pushing into pussy like the cock of her old boyfriend. Even her tight virgin ass even parted as the bubbles forced their way in.
When it was gone, Eliza writhed silent on the floor. The bubbles were gone, but she could feel them inside, tickling her. "Oh God! I can feel it!" she screamed as she rolled over onto her knees. Her voice changed to sound like a very feminine growl. She shrieked as they burst from her back. Two large wings to rival even a mighty eagle. Eliza looked over her shoulder at her new wings, stretching them as they touched the ceiling. Her eyes only looked away as she winced. A tail growing out above her ass and waggling behind her.
"We knew you would like it. Be our gargoyle. Be the naughty sentry that keeps the other girls in line," another strange ghostly voice cooed.
Eliza darted for the door. It was locked. She was too panicked to notice how much more limber her body was. How much swifter it was. Or even that her wings naturally folded behind her back. After pounding on the wall for a few moments, she spun around and ran to the window. It opened. She sighed as she throw the windows open, and climbed onto the ledge. Again she failed to notice how her body took a natural pose. Her legs bent up to her chest, her claws gripping the window frame. She was going to jump from the second floor window, but didn't. Something stopped her.
She could feel what stopped her. The bubbles moving under her skin. She could feel them crawling under it, still tickling her like she was taking a bath again. The gargoyle girl opened her mouth and let out a roar, freezing with her mouth opened. The bubbles feeling as though they popped under her skin while rising to the surface. And what they left behind was a new, hard skin. Her hair and eyes joining the same color as the rest of her body. A black obsidian marble. It was an unnatural rock. Shiny and black with yellow veins running around it. The gargoyle girl could only gaze out at the court yard around the house, doing her job. Observing, weighting, protecting....
And there you have it. The transformation of Eliza, the perky Goth, into Eliza, the perky Gargoyle. I like the way it came out. On the spot.
I used things in the room, used the setting. I didn't need a massive, unexplained blob to come out of no where. I described the woman in the wood. Used things in the room to ground it to a place and not just a floating white space. And I took the liberty of adding my idea that the Gargoyle should work for the house. It isn't perfect, but it is a nice detailed start. Put a couple of TFs like this in a story and people will notice. They might even get engrossed in the haunted house. And it didn't even need Vince Prince.
Becky
Which is why it was sad last night when I asked to see a story from my friend, Doc Purple. I had avoided seeing it since he completely ignored notes I gave him on a GI Joe fan fic. My ideas were pretty good and I may post the pitch later, but I was still miffed. He took none of my ideas and scrapped the story. So when he sent the story last night, I held nothing back. I savaged every part of it. Telling him he could do much, much better. He seemed to avoid saying much. No one likes negative comments. It kind of serves him right, he did send me to the Nostalgia Critic's site. And I watched his 100 or so review in a week. Brutal mocking was fresh in my mind.
So, now, in public, it is time to show him. Illustrate how his ideas can shine. I am going to rewrite, on the spot, a section of his story, and make it ten times sexier than his original version.
First some back story. He is going for a Haunted House motif. He only calls the house "down the narrow, ever winding roads in the backwoods of West Virginia" and the style of the house "some combination of Mediterranean and Victorian Era influences." Its a cliche, and cliches rock! They give the reader something familiar to relate to, even if they never been to a Gilded Age mansion. The rest of the foreshadowing says something happened here in the 40's or the 50's.
The characters are five random and diverse friends. Four girls and guy. The dude, the slut, the quiet girl, the Asian rich girl, and a perky goth. We will be following Eliza, the perky goth. Don't ask how she is dressed or any details on her appearance other than her perky nature, so let's just assume she looks like the generic girl who fell into a clothing rack at Hot Topic. Oh, and her friends think she is a bitch. We have a perky, bitchy goth.
Here is the excerpt I am writing.
No matter how Eliza positioned herself on the bed, she couldn’t get any sleep. She was wide awake and didn’t understand why. She remembered being tired and dozing off. It seemed like only 30 minutes ago. The House was oppressively silent. She could hear her heart beat very clearly; hear the blood flow in her ears. She pulled a pillow over her face but that didn’t help either. With a huff and a groan she tossed the pillow aside and felt her way to the lamp next to the bed. The light came on and she peeled the covers back. She was in a black thong and a purple tank top. She thought perhaps a warm bubble bath would relax her enough to get some sleep and fortunately for her someone had stocked the bathroom with everything she needed.
Upstairs, Jill’s mind kept wandering back to the note she had found in the study. What was the machine mentioned in that entry? Who were the people that were there before? She left her room and crept downstairs; down to the study...What the fuck is this? That happened to Eliza? She was taking a bath? Now we are with Jill in the study? We are glossing over a bath tube scene? In a pornographic story? This was one of my complaints. He never sets scenes and rolls with it. He kept jumping around to different characters, different spots. Constantly braking the mood. And in a horror style story, even with a B Film feel, you need a mood. Set a scene, roll with it, do the other stuff before or after.
Elsewhere, Eliza stepped into back the bedroom wearing only a towel. Her skin still glistened with the oil she had used in her bath earlier. She was about to retrieve her clothes from off the bed when she discovered they were missing. In fact, all her clothes were missing.
“Damn it, Dinah! Where are my things?” she said out loud, believing one of her friends was playing a trick on her. She pulled the closet door open but there was no one hiding inside nor was there anything to wear. “Scott, is this your doing you sick pervert?” she asked, looking under the bed. It appeared she was alone.
She stood, her short black hair slicked back and dripping, and pondered the idea of having to leave the privacy of the room and the humiliation of explaining this to Kimmi or Jill so she could borrow something to wear. Her thoughts however were interrupted by the distinct sound of wood groaning as it was bent by unseen forces. Eliza turned to see the form of a nude woman take shape within the walnut paneling of the wall. Though she was suspended in place, the apparition had no trouble moving as the wood seemed to stretch like plastic to whichever way she moved. Eliza at this point was too horrified for words. She had dropped her towel and was oblivious to her own nudity. The apparition smiled; every detail of her anatomy easily recognized from her long flowing hair to her small, stubby toes.
“We want you.” it stated plainly. Its voice was a combination of several women speaking in unison. “Join us sister. Become a part of us!”
Eliza screamed and bolted for the door but when she opened it there was a black rubbery mass in her way. It quivered and moved like gelatinous blob. She knew better than to run through it. She turned just as a second mass uncoiled in the doorway like a curtain made of latex. She walked face first into it and was caught like a mouse in a glue trap. Her screams were silenced as the inky membrane entered her mouth. The two masses came together. They clung to her skin and adhered to her every curve. She looked as though she were in a vacbed.
“Oh, how delicious!” the entity purred. “You’re going to love it here. We have so much to show you!”
The membrane was entering Eliza through other openings. It was warm and she was very uncomfortable. She could feel herself being repositioned for some unknown design; arms crossed just below her breasts and her left knee bent ever so slightly. Her flesh was hot, cold, tingly, and numb all at the same time. There was a sudden sharp pain in her shoulder blades as two small leathery wings sprouted from her back. The excess mass seemed to melt away into oblivion leaving only her dark figure. Even so, the young woman lacked the ability to move. Subtle anatomical details were beginning to surface. One could make out her fingers and nails; see individual strands of her slicked back hair. Her entire body was striped length wise with razor thin slivers of silver. Eliza had become a beautiful winged statue of polished black marble.
The new gargoyle’s smile masked the horror she had felt just moments before her transformation completed. She would be stone forever; always having the body of a nineteen year old, always having small perky breasts. With her work complete, the entity receded into the wall.
No one had heard Eliza scream. Not even Jill who had been on the same floor roughly thirty minutes ago when it happened. She had already gone to bed since she was unable to find anything other than the paper with the numbers written on it. The following morning when Kimmi went to Eliza’s room, she didn’t find her goth friend but she did find her belongings and a note that was written in her hand writing.
Hey guys,
I forgot to get some personal things so I ran to the store. Make sure Dinah doesn't mess with my stuff!
-Eliza
Go ahead, call me cruel. Say it was fine. It was a TF in a page and a half. It missed opportunities, it never fleshed it out. It wasted a striptease, a bath, and a half a page of a vague transformation that is really two transformations.
No matter how Eliza positioned herself on the bed, she couldn’t get any sleep. She was wide awake and didn’t understand why. She remembered being tired and dozing off. It seemed like only 30 minutes ago. The House was oppressively silent. She could hear her heart beat very clearly; hear the blood flow in her ears. She pulled a pillow over her face but that didn’t help either. With a huff and a groan she tossed the pillow aside and felt her way to the lamp next to the bed. The light came on and she peeled the covers back. She was in a black thong and a purple tank top. She thought perhaps a warm bubble bath would relax her enough to get some sleep.
Stumbling a bit, still tipsy from the drinking they had done that night, she hit leaned against the door of the bathroom. She gazed into the bathroom. "Fully stocked, like a hotel. Bullshit, Kimmi's dad knew we were coming." The slurred as she stumbled into the bathroom, and plopped her plump ass onto the toilet seat. Unlike Kimmi and Jill, Eliza, the group's perky goth, saw no need for the gym. It was better not to go. A soft belly for some extra mass in her tits and ass wasn't a bad deal.
Eliza shook her head clear and ran the water the water for the bath. The pipe creaked as the warm water flowed into the bath. Odd how it came out immediately warm, quickly feeling the tub. "Bubbles," Eliza mumbled as she looked over the soap caddy. Sure enough, there was a full bottle of bubble soap in a bright pink bottle. The tipsy goth dumped in what must have been half the bottle before tossing it back with the other soaps. The bubbles came fast, rising to the rim.
Eliza stood up and took her tank top off, letting her bra less breasts bounce free. Her dainty pink nipples sitting on top of two plump breasts. She stretched and looked at her body in the mirror, smirking with her black painted lips. She gently ran her hands over her breasts and down to her black thong with naughty girl written on the whale tale. Letting it fall to the floor, she stretched her legs before stepping into the tub.
"Whoa, that's perfect!" she cooed as she slipped into the bath, sliding under, letting her breasts float on top of the water. The floating pile of bubbles tickling her nipples. It was like sleeping in a warm, wet cloud, it was just what she needed. The house's noises weren't bothering anymore. She was relaxed... she fell asleep, right there in the tub.
And Scene. Ad Lib bath scene. Gave some character development. You know what her body looks like, something about her friends, and a little more about her clothes. Its rough, but it works for something on the fly. Now, while she sleeps, would be the perfect time to do a detailed scene of Jill stumbling around the study.
And when Eliza, the perky goth, wakes up, we rejoin her.
Eliza a woke a few hours later. The bubbles had vanished, settling down into the water, giving a cloudy look. The water's pleasant warm feel had drifted away, leaving a luke warm feel. Her neck hurt too from laying against the porcelain tub. She stood up, stretching her body again. She ran her hands through her wet hair, slicking it back behind her head. She let the water drip off her body before reaching for one of the soft, clean, fluffy white towel hanging on the rack.
"Oh yea, no one knows we were come up here. The turn down service is just standard on empty houses," she mumbled as she wrapped the towel around her body, snugly wrapped around her breasts and walking back into the bedroom. Her legs glistening still from the bubble bath she used. Eliza walked over to the dresser were she put her clothes, and opened it.
“Damn it, Dinah! Where are my things?” she screamed as she slammed the draw shut and moved through the next several. All empty. This was just like a drunk Dinah, for one of her stories. Eliza knew how it would play out. She would leave her room to find her clothes, and she would find them, piece by piece, in a trail, leading to the garden or something. Dinah would be behind her giggling, waiting, stalking for the moment. POUNCE! The blonde would grab her towel and run outside. "She thinks she can get me, oh no, I'm not falling for it this..."
The woman froze. Her still wet body dripping on the floor making a small puddle. Her jaw dropped. There was no way. The walnut panel on the far side of the room was moving, coming at her. It had a shape! It was a woman! A woman coming out of the wood. It was clear as day. The goth girl trembled and backed into the dresser. Her white eyes spread open, unblinking at the sight. Her slick, wet legs trembling under her short towel.
“We want you,” she spoke in an eerie plain voice. The wooden woman was half out of the panel. Her thighs merging back into the panel. Her body was in full, perfect detail. To pointed nipples sat on to moderate sides breasts, her flat stomach with a petite navel and smooth pussy lips between her thighs. Her hair drifting about her head, passing from a complete mass to incredibly fine threads as it moved and waved. Her arms pulled back into the wall as if someone were on the other side holding her in. Her face smiling and angelic, she poke again, but this time, it sounded as if more than one woman was speaking. All in perfect. “Join us sister. Become a part of us! We even have a special place for a dark girl like you. Join us!"
Eliza darted into the bathroom as the voices giggles at her. Her glistening nude body on pull display as she tried to hide, slamming the door shut and trembling inside the room. "This isn't Dinah....what the fuck!" Her eyes darted around the room, but the room had no windows, and the giggling wouldn't stop. It was like the door wasn't even closed. The goth crossed her arms over her chest and backed away from the door. She saw movement in her periphery, and darted her head to her side. She let out a chilling scream.
"See, you're starting to join us already. Isn't it delicious? You'll love it here. We have so many fun things to show you," the single voice spoke again. The face that stared back at Eliza was her own, but a far darker version. Her skin was a dull gray, her teeth and her teeth fangs. Her eyes shined a dark, blood red that gave a piercing lifeless stare. Her forehead broke for two stubby horns. Her hair, now a dark black and draping down her back to her ass, was profiled by two pointy ears.
"What have you done to me?" she screamed as she stared down at her hands and feet. Now two pairs of claws with only three digits each. Her feet with a fourth claw sticking out the back of her morphed feet. Eliza's mind couldn't comprehend what she was seeing, she could only screech. Her voice making a feminine wail that only a banshee could produce. She stopped only when she turned to see the tube. The bubbles had returned and were growing, forming a shape. The bubbles took the shape of a woman, another woman. Eliza just shrieked again.
"Join us!" the voices said again before the bubbles flew at Eliza, knocking her back, through the door that opened by itself. The transformed coed hit the floor. She struggled as the bubbles covered her body. Tickling her as it did before, mocking her. Soon all she could do was wiggle on the floor in a mass of bubbles. She was having troubling catching her breath as she was in a mixture of tickles and horror. Finally she got out another scream, only to let the bubbles flow into her mouth silencing her. The bubbles moved fast. Entering her body through her every hole. Her tongue felt the taste of soap as it flowed down her through. She could feel them pushing into pussy like the cock of her old boyfriend. Even her tight virgin ass even parted as the bubbles forced their way in.
When it was gone, Eliza writhed silent on the floor. The bubbles were gone, but she could feel them inside, tickling her. "Oh God! I can feel it!" she screamed as she rolled over onto her knees. Her voice changed to sound like a very feminine growl. She shrieked as they burst from her back. Two large wings to rival even a mighty eagle. Eliza looked over her shoulder at her new wings, stretching them as they touched the ceiling. Her eyes only looked away as she winced. A tail growing out above her ass and waggling behind her.
"We knew you would like it. Be our gargoyle. Be the naughty sentry that keeps the other girls in line," another strange ghostly voice cooed.
Eliza darted for the door. It was locked. She was too panicked to notice how much more limber her body was. How much swifter it was. Or even that her wings naturally folded behind her back. After pounding on the wall for a few moments, she spun around and ran to the window. It opened. She sighed as she throw the windows open, and climbed onto the ledge. Again she failed to notice how her body took a natural pose. Her legs bent up to her chest, her claws gripping the window frame. She was going to jump from the second floor window, but didn't. Something stopped her.
She could feel what stopped her. The bubbles moving under her skin. She could feel them crawling under it, still tickling her like she was taking a bath again. The gargoyle girl opened her mouth and let out a roar, freezing with her mouth opened. The bubbles feeling as though they popped under her skin while rising to the surface. And what they left behind was a new, hard skin. Her hair and eyes joining the same color as the rest of her body. A black obsidian marble. It was an unnatural rock. Shiny and black with yellow veins running around it. The gargoyle girl could only gaze out at the court yard around the house, doing her job. Observing, weighting, protecting....
And there you have it. The transformation of Eliza, the perky Goth, into Eliza, the perky Gargoyle. I like the way it came out. On the spot.
I used things in the room, used the setting. I didn't need a massive, unexplained blob to come out of no where. I described the woman in the wood. Used things in the room to ground it to a place and not just a floating white space. And I took the liberty of adding my idea that the Gargoyle should work for the house. It isn't perfect, but it is a nice detailed start. Put a couple of TFs like this in a story and people will notice. They might even get engrossed in the haunted house. And it didn't even need Vince Prince.
Becky
Sunday, August 16, 2009
Becky and the Girlasaurus
I get lots of ideas that never seem to get made into stories. They come and go. I pitch them around for RP on YIM (I can be found under venusredscar or beckyfire88 ) And usually they never get done or heavily edited down. One of them was for Jurassic Park.On the island, all the Dinosaurs are male as the security precaution, but nature will find a way, it has to find a way. For this story concept, the dinosaurs are very mellow. They don't want to eat people. They can be petted and such. A young Asian scientist knows this, but founds out more one weekend. She stayed on the island to work when everyone else went home. The doctor is removed from typical TF stories as in she was meant to be big hipped and large breasted. Plump but not fat. A departure from the usual victims who resemble supermodels. I thought I saved the picture that inspired it, but I didn't.
She is currently working with a young and friendly Raptor. Remember, to make the story work better, the dinosaurs know only to eat steaks from bowls. (Sometimes demanding A1 as well.) What she finds out is the dinosaurs seem to be fond of Bukkake. The Raptor spews his large load in her face, seemingly for no reason.
"Hmm, salty..."
The Doctor would take the facial in stride, since it was an animal. Maybe she was working down there anyone to help with the effect. But this is the key that starts her weekend of change. She would grow scales in some places on her body, mostly around her breasts and vagina. The change wouldn't be total until the second part. She would feel hot, bothered, and have a certain itch. At first, she would shrug it off like everyone does during the day. But as the day progresses, she can't change her mind to something like cellular mitosis or dino diets. She might remove her top and cover herself in just her lab coat. Her mind making up some justification. You can always find justification in your own mind. Especially when it is being heavily effected with whatever was in the dino spluge. She might not notice her changing skin around her sexual areas, or it might be a reason why she strips. It might rub her skin the wrong way, but she shouldn't notice the actual changes yet. Her eyes keep lingering to her friend from before. He just stares at her...
"..is he smiling? Can Dinosaurs smile?" she thinks.
Eventually things become obvious. The Raptor would be showing off his erection. The doctor at this point would be standing over whatever she was working on, her lab coat open, her body nude for whatever reason she made up, and then she would look over and see it. Hormones taking over. And begins the night of hot dino love making.
She would wake up next morning groggy, nude on the lab floor, or maybe in the dinosaurs holding pen, which she would have opened to get to her lover. Her mind will collect together the night, and after some "what have I done?" she gets a whiff of whatever a dinosaur and a woman smell like after a night of sex, and her mind regresses back to "what a good idea."
Of course, now would be a good time for her to notice her changes. Her belly is a bit rounder, something is inside, and it is covered in scales. Her hands too. And her breasts are covered, nipples gone, and shrinking into her chest. Her feet are very sore in her pumps, which she fucked with on because well... that's hotter. Her vagina scales have spread to her thighs and there is a hint of a tale coming out of her ass....
Her belly is of course filled with eggs. Eggs she will soon begin laying, and once it starts, it won't stop. I love the idea of egging laying. It works like a weird reverse dildo. And it is great for getting that pregnant look but not having to deal with a kid later. They laying will begin while she is still mostly human.
This scene with the Doctor would end here. The next chapter would begin with them finding an empty lab, no raptor, the missing Doctor, and a distinct smell of sweat and sex. The only other ideas I have for this story is the owners granddaughter finding out his daughter is infected with Nature's Way of providing the dinos with female lovers. I figure it would play out like a horror suspense story, but with the result of the women liking or loving the hardcore dinosaur sex. The Dinos would stalk the females too, finding various way to get they covered in cum, or eating it.
It is a wacky idea, and heavily sexualized. It would make a decent story if I ever found a reason to write it. Since I tend to be long winded, the opening chapter I just described would be about ten pages or more. I don't like wasting moments and not showing a sexy or fun idea. Or rushing to the money shot. Maybe someone out there could show up and get me started on the idea...maybe.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
The Bakery Chapter One
This was the first Fetish story I posted. The Bakery. It takes elements from stories by a guy named czolgolz He was on the right track. He had all the elements of the first food transformation I had seen that wasn't Dolcett based. I took the idea, and with a guy named Aiden, we worked out the first few chapters. I have been toying with more, but haven't done any yet. Aiden meanwhile has turned the character in an absurd cartoon parody of good taste. (He gave her a magic top hat that operates on hammer space!) He RPs it somewhere. Since I have a blog now, I might posted some unfinished scraps and ask for comments.
Even though the story is old, I would still love comments. Thanks
The Bakery
Even though the story is old, I would still love comments. Thanks
The Bakery
By Venus R Becky
Claire was running down the street trying to get out of the downpour. She was soaked and dove into the first store she found. A bakery. She sighed and knew this would ruin her diet. She walked up to the counter and looked over the baked goods. She would have to buy something to make it seem as if she was not here to avoid the rain. Although the place was empty, she was in no rush to have anyone behind the counter assist her. The rain continued to fall outside and the bakery lay empty, or at least the front did.
Claire spent this lone time looking into the case and the treats that lay inside. They seemed on the higher end of baked goods. They all had a sense of art about them. The cupcakes were perfectly uniform in their icing. Not one little flower on top was off center or misshapen. The cookies all seemed to have an equal number of chocolate chips. Claire could not count them all, but none seemed empty and none seemed too full. Even the cheesecakes had a perfectly round swirl on the top. She was impressed. Of all the bakeries to stumble upon, she stumbled into a pretty good one.
Clank. A cry of indignation as Patricia was spilt onto the floor. The din of metal on metal. Should the girl look past the counter; through the small window above the ajar door, she would see two women - One dressed in a sleeveless apron that did little to hide her voluptuous, large breasted form. The other was a pink haired woman with a look of contentment on her face as she lay down, smothered in a thick layer of chocolate. The device she was lying in dominated a small area of the large room yet was large enough to hold the entire woman, who closed her eyes, her stomach and rounded womb full of whipped cream filling that the naughty chef continued to scoop at with a finger, savoring the taste as the woman tried to stay still. Sprinkling her with chopped nuts before cleaning up Patricia, letting the woman with the chocolate on her set slightly, walking out of the windows sight range as she went to retrieve her culinary equipment for the next job.
"Chocolate and nut coated cookies with a cream center…yummy," the pink hair girl cooed as she continued her job. The voice, combined with the small crash, was enough to lure Claire to the bakery door. It was a sight to behold.
Claire was shocked at what she was seeing, so shocked she walked right into the room staring at the woman. She forgot about the chef and just looked to the woman who seemed to be alive yet in a state where she could have been food. The girl was clearly trying not to move, but could not help looking over and smile to Claire as if nothing was wrong or out of place. Even with the filling oozing from her vagina, she was content with her place in the room. Claire was speechless but she had to ask. There was no way her stunned mind could continue wondering without some hard answers. "What the hell is going on here?"
Hearing the demanding question, the Chef turned around with her white coat billowing open to reveal her silk stockings and high heels. Beyond those, she was as naked as her ingredients. Pushing a tuft of pink hair from her eyes, the Chef tucked the oversized rolling pin under her arm, barely though given its size. Turning to the rude one, the chef replied "Making Cookie over there into Chocolate nut cookies with cream filling," she paused and looked down to 'Cookie'. She ran a finger over the girl's distended belly and continued, "when she's been rolled, folded, baked and cut you can have a sample." She stopped and walked backed toward Claire with a sultry sway. Her apron was still open in the middle showing a quite revealing display of cleavage. "But if you want to stay in my kitchen, you'll have to lose those soggy clothes. Look, you're tracking dirt, mud and such through all over my bakery. Then go in this shower behind the freezer room. Oh, and make sure you're as clean as possible. My kitchen must be kept as clean as possible." That said, she continued the drag the rolling pin to 'Cookie's' table.
"I have to see this," Claire said as she began to remove her jacket and boots. She placed them on a table and looked back to the table. The Baker almost had the rolling pin ready; she would have to hurry. "Wait for me to get back," she said.
The Baker gave an annoyed look while Cookie giggled. "You're not getting off that easy. And neither is she," the Baker whispered the last part as she bent down and kissed her dough's mouth.
Claire walked across the room only wearing her jeans and shirt. Her bare feet making a soft tapping on the floor, the opposite of the Baker's clacking heels. She turned back to the woman before she reached the shower. "Do you have a coat or something I could wear?" she asked as she kept moving toward the shower and once inside tossed her clothes over the side. She washed for a few minutes and then looked over the side. "Can I get that jacket now?" she called out across the room. She could still see the two on the baking table.
The chef replied, "no, but its warm in here, so its fine. Just us girls... well...sort of..." giggling as she hefted the rolling pin onto the table and lightly dusted the woman with a large container of caster sugar. That done, the chef fixed one end of the pin into a roller mechanism and began the rolling process; soft gasps of almost pleasure rising from the ingredient as her body began to flatten, her breasts areola spread out far. The woman's soft pants not abating as she lay there. Even while she was folded in half before her extremities were folded to the main block. The Chef repeated the process twice more, oblivious as to the intruders' location. Now all that was Cookie was a pile of dough. Yet with all the rolling and folding, the filling seemed to magically stay inside the dough. It was as if it was magically held inside.
Claire walked over to the table. Her face was complete shock. How could she believe that this woman just crushed another woman into cookie dough? She stood watching in awe as the pink haired Baker seemed to find nothing wrong with this predicament. She looked like she was enjoying it. Claire definitely was not. She crossed her arms over her nude chest and took a step back. There was no way 'Cookie' could still be on the table. The dough was pressed far too thin and the table below was just opened air. It clearly was not an illusion although the other option was impossible to believe. Claire turned to the Baker forgetting their nudity. "What...how did you do that? Is she alive or… what the hell happened to her?"
The Baker merely tapped her own nose as if saying "its my secret" before turning fully to the questioning intruder. She walked up to her and looked into Claire's eyes as she took her hand. She closed all but a finger and after kissing it, pressed it into the dough-woman precisely where Cookie's sex had been. The dough yelping in shock and delight, unable to move before the chef answered "Still alive...take it from me, the dough loves to be rolled into a stick and used...playfully. That's why my girls are always quite happy to become cookies and such; as they all secretly desire such an ending." The Baker turned back to the dough, pausing a moment, thinking of all the girls who had come through her bakery. "Chocolate melting in a lovers sex, cookies crumbling as their special cream flows down their lovers throat. It's the ultimate in erotic food," smiling as she prodded the dough once more. The Baker tore off a chunk and rolled it into two balls. Popping one in her mouth, she offered the other to clear as she finished, "I love raw cookie dough."
Claire felt the dough and looked up to the Baker. She was shocked at how warm the dough felt. How it felt as if it pulsing, as if life was still flowing through it, but this only made her feel it a little more. She paused for only a moment as she put the ball of dough into her mouth. She did not chew out of a little fear, but that only made it taste and feel all the better. She had to admit it was very good and she could swear it wiggled a little in her mouth. Claire let out a small yummy sound before swallowing. "I guess you can turn a woman into cookies.... weird place...." she said as she continued to stare down in awe at the cookies. She did not believe what she just said, but the dough was clearly not normal dough. Claire was confused now, very confused. The question was hard to ask, but she had to know, "who was she...before she.... well...became dough..."
The Baker chuckled, "a friend-cum-lover. She decided that for my birthday, she had offered her body to me. I accepted of course and here we are." The Baker smiled and ate a little more of the dough before slapping her own hand before turning from the questions and pulled a lever. The table disappearing from view as the roof of the contraption dropped down. A pattern of many cookies began to roll down a conveyor belt and onto several large trays before the Baker lifted the cover and scooped out the doughy remains. Smiling to the questioning woman as she molded the remnants by hand into a penile shape. She dipped the shaped dough in a thin batter and tossed into some boiling oil. Seconds later she pulled the smooth, crispy shelled shaft from the oil. Drying it and presenting it to the woman as a souvenir to eat or play with. The Baker returned to the cookie trays and began setting them into the large ovens dominating the side of the room, the chef whistling as she went.
Claire took the deep fried dough and looked at it before she looked back to the woman .She saw the logo on her jacket and realized she wondered into such a bakery, but it was a weird one. She just turned a living woman into a pile of dough. She shuddered and without realizing it was biting down into the penis and enjoying it. The dough was still be wiggling and massaging her mouth as she moved it around her mouth. She could even feel the fried penis in her hand still throbbing as if it were real. These were after thoughts for Claire though as she stared at the Baker as she filled the oven. "What happens to her after she is eaten?" the woman asks continuing her questions. The dildo was already half gone.
The Baker raised an eyebrow "Hmm, well most end up as however much manure as they desired. While some become part of their lover. I had one case where one girl ate another girl as a cake. Supposedly, the girl grew her breasts overnight to match the D cup of her consumed friend. Another time a man claimed that the prudish girl who ate an exhibitionist girl overnight was taking anything he gave her." The Baker tailed off looking into space. She turned back to Claire smiling before she continued, "either way though, their forms before cooking are finished." Noticing the fact the dildo was almost gone. The Baker smiled and sat by her asking, "You know, you'd make a wonderful chocolate statue or cake. If you're interested...or we can make you (silent 'into') something really yummy," the Baker's eyes misted over as she tried to decide what to make of Claire.
Claire gave an uneasy smile and munched on the dildo. She looked at the woman and thought about what was just said. There were several interesting things how this was all done and what was brought about by it, but Claire was not even going to consider becoming anything herself. Being here made her uneasy, although that did not stop her from eating the fried cookie dough dildo. "No....thanks. I like being human and alive," she said as she looked around the kitchen. She felt so alone in this place and she was naked. Why did she get naked? She bit off another piece of her dildo and looked to the woman. This Baker seemed to enjoy her work. She shook it off again, thoughts of trying this not good. It was probably the remains of Cookie in the dough.
The Baker saw a little glimmer of desire in the girl's eyes and she could see that she was fighting the unnatural urge to say yes. Deciding to be crafty (while also deciding that whatever was made would be just for her), the Baker stood up and walked to the pantry, removing her coat and dropping it into the washing tub before returning. She stated, "I'd gotten oil and batter all over the front of my apron. Besides, this feels so much better." Smiling as she seductively walked back to the table. Her hips swaying, she walked past Claire with a fragrance of sex and violets. The Baker opened the cupboard and removed a lean, sexy female who stood up voluntarily and climbed down.
This new girl sat on the table next to Claire. She asked the Baker, "Did you decide what to make of me?" eagerly as the chef nodded.
"It's a surprise so I'll blindfold you once ready, but I'll need some help. So will you help, err...?" The Baker smiled and looked at Claire. "What is your name dear and will you help me by first getting the utensils, bowls and pans ready? Then you can help me turn this sensuous morsel into something really tasty."
She looked at the girl and then gulped as she went and did as she was told. "Claire.... My name is Claire," she said. Claire was surprised that women were just kept in the cabinets like that. She was not sure how she was going to handle this, but she would watch the woman do it. She was not going to do it herself so the closest she could get would be to watch this woman being turned into something. Claire also thought about how she was going to learn how it was done. She still wanted to know if it was all just a cute trick, or some kind of real magic. She watched with fascination as the blind fold was put on the girl.
"And my name's Sandy. Nice to met you. I use to work across the street at the gym," the now blind folded girl said. She giggled and continued, "I came here a lot and eventually the temptation got to me." The girl seemed to sense the doubt in Claire's head with that statement. Claire wondered if she would be able to fight the temptation in her head. Could this place really pull her in like that? Claire did not want to think so.
The Baker pointed silently to the extremely large glass bowl set on rollers that was revealed when she opened a roller door. It revealed the greater portion of the kitchen. Claire pushed this to the center of the room. The Baker retrieved the cooking utensils, a large crate and a large pipe marked custard. She whispering to Claire that she was going to make a trifle. The Baker retrieved a stepladder and climbed into the bowl, affixing the ceiling pulley system to the bowl inside the large bowl. It was large enough to fit the woman none the less. Taking a hose and plugging it into the feed on the larger bowl, this bowl began to fill as the heating element began to warm up the water needed to melt the jelly cubes. The Baker of course left the bowl before she herself could be affected by the magic. Returning to sit down, she revealed a selection of fruit, asking Claire to, "Pick a flavor."
"Vanilla. " Claire says as she backs away. With her part of the help done, she can now watch and learn how this form of baking was done. She looked to the smiling, blindfolded girl next to her. The girl seems happy enough that this will happen. Claire is beginning to think that it might be interesting to try, but she puts it into the back of her mind as she stands in the back of the room simply watching the two nude ladies go to work. The temptation is starting to eat away at her. It is natural for a person to be curious, but even when they were so close to never existing again. It was something that Claire wanted to put away in the back of her mind. She could not live with the idea that she wanted to end her life for the sake of sexual gratification.
Sandy picking strawberry, the Baker smiled and retrieved the pulley controller. Lowering the inner bowl to the floor with a click, she helped Sandy off the table and put her inside the bowl. A small echo could be heard as Sandy sat in the giant bowl. The Baker gave her a simple instruction. "Sandy, I want you to eat as much of the ingredients as possible," she paused and turned back to Claire, "Helps fill her with flavor." Sandy selflessly ate as many strawberries and vanilla essence as she could before groaning. She fit as many strawberries and vanilla pods as possible into herself causing her belly to distend slightly.
Looking at the notes and seeing the trifle was for Ann Summer's party, she knew no kids would be around. This caused the Baker to begin pour several bottles of brandy over the woman's body and hair. The ice-cold alcohol bringing Sandy's nipples to fruition near instantly. This done, the Baker walked over to the crate and, indicating to Claire she would like some help. They took the jelly blocks and began to pour them into Sandy's bowl eventually burying the woman to the depth of her neck. A brief sprinkle of some more strawberries and vanilla pods leaving only the top of Sandy's head showing, the eager pants as the woman's deepest fantasy came to fruition were easily audible.
Smiling at the noises, the Baker turned to Claire and spoke softly, "I never harm those who wish not to participate, but I offer a thrill no man nor female nor machine ever could." Passing Claire the controller "Press the button and then all we have to do is wait, maybe fix a little snack if you like."
Claire hit the button and watched as the machine went to work. She was still silent in awe as she could hear the moans. She was shocked how something like this could really work. She looked to the Baker and then the bowl. "I don't... think it's best. I have finals next week and my parents have to see my grades," she said as she looked at the bowl as the moans got softer and softer.
"Oh a college student. I get a lot of those," the Baker cooed as she turned to the bowl. Knowing the jelly, and Sandy were slowly dissolving, changing and reverting to a thick, almost primordial goop that would the be heated to liquid and cooled to set the strawberries and vanilla pods inside it. Settling where Sandy was lying perfectly outlined her beautiful human form.
The Baker smiled and sat by Claire, looking into her eyes as she placed her hand on Claire's naked thigh. Their nipples so close that it was a wonder they had not touched. "Why care about the finals? Why would you care about them when you could," she took a guess at Claire's sexuality, "have a females lips caressing each part of you. Stroking the surface as they gained pleasure, lowering their teeth into the succulent morsel you had chosen to become, juices dripping down their satisfied faces and chests as they enjoyed you. Your crumbs rolling over their flesh and into the deepest levels of intimacy. Your taste so delectable that they spend hours picking every remnant of you from their flesh. Your taste turning them on without a clue as to why." The Baker's words soft and sensual, she smiled and looked into the girl's eyes wondering if her case was being heard in her mind. Although it did sadden her, wondering if she could have thought this girl the art of transmutive cookery.
"Yes... I guess... I can give it a try," Claire said forgetting it was permanent. The speech had worked her up and practically erased all the doubts she had out of her head. She was so horny she would probably do anything this woman asked. The Baker was an excellent persuader, or seducer however you wanted to look at it. She looked around the kitchen and wondered what was going to become of her. "Why not make me that chocolate statue you mentioned before. That way you can turn me back later," she said smiling as the idea was actually turning her on. She smiled and looked to the now silent bowl. She was horny...very horny and hungry. Sandy was silenced, but Claire's own defenses came up and thought of an idea to make herself feel safe, even if the Baker did not do it.
The Baker nodded before asking "Hold that thought." As she climbed up the ladder and looked at the cooling trifle. The woman was gone but for her silhouette. She dipped a finger into the wobbling mass. It tasted great. Getting the bowl down and into the cool-set freezer, the Baker returned to her new ingredient and smiled softly, nodding, "Hmm... How about we make it a really erotic pose of you sitting on a nougat chair, covering you in caramel, nuts and finally lots of chocolate?" The Baker licking her lips as she thought of how good that would look in the cold of the storage room and tasty it would be. The Baker, once the go-ahead was given, taking her hand off Claire's crotch, as she had been talking, the higher her hand rose eventually making it to Claire's soft, wet crotch. Smiling, taking her by the hand into the storeroom to retrieve all that they needed for the chocolatification process. The Baker beginning to wonder if maybe a double pose would be better then deciding not to. She could always add the second later. Maybe put in a special trigger in Claire's soon to be chocolate pussy to give who ever ate it a nice surprise with their meal. The Baker grinned as all these thoughts traveled through her mind.
Claire was aroused now from that hand on her vagina. She let out a sigh and looked to the things she was going to get. Her mind was yelling at her as it never did before. You're a person. You're not an ingredient. Get your clothes and run you fool. Don't stick around. Those thoughts were pushed to the back of her mind as her pussy still dripped from the speech she was given. She turned and looked to the door, which she could barely see from the kitchen. She realized she was set up for this the second she walked inside the bakery. The stripping and the shower, this woman never saw another woman only an ingredient. Claire was a mark, but for some strange reason, that made her hornier. Claire watched the nude Baker lead her into the freezer. "Umm.... sure? I guess… that sounds good."
Little did Claire know that apart from the occasional spillage of cum, the Baker was a hygiene freak. Although it was easy to see how thoughts could perceive this. The nougat quickly mixed and beaten thanks to the immense electric beater in the corner of the room. The Baker dropped the block onto a deep tray, just above the ankle, and began to mould the nougat into a chair shape. Her palette knife skillfully etching shapes into the goo as if she had done this a thousand times. Eventually though, the throne was complete and the Baker walked over to the merrily simmering caramel and chocolate pots. Each so big that they were equipped with plunger-pump, spray hoses and the ability to wear the pot on the back. She then set up a collapsible slope to a height where the Baker could easily drop the chocolate and caramel over Claire's head.
The Baker finally looked to Claire from her work. She asked, "Make a really sexy pose, something that a lover would remember for years fondly, arousing them each time."
Claire looked at the chair and gulped as she realized she could have run all this time but instead she stayed to sit on that nougat chair. Maybe it was the rain outside. maybe it was the fact she was curious on how it felt to made into that perfect treat that the Baker talked up. Maybe it was just she wanted to do it and that deep down maybe she knew it was right to become a tasty treat. She pushed her hair back and let her pony tail fall out. She sat down onto the chair. Her arm wrapped her one breast holding it up and the hand on the other, gently holding it with her fingers in an O shape over the nipple. Her legs were open, of course, and her hand just above her pussy. Her pinkie pushing inside it opening it up just enough. Her head tilted to the side. "Is....this alright?" Claire asked.
The Baker nodded, a lusty smile signifying how goof the pose was. The Baker wanted at least to play with this one before turning her to chocolate, but it was too late. The nougat was already fusing to her skin. Shaking her head off side to Claire, she climbed the slope with the pot and pumped up the pressure. She started the caramel flow that first pooled on her scalp before dripping, miraculously, in a uniform style. The warm goo sticking and clinging, the heat the same as sex juices, the goo slowly making its way down her form and over the throne. The caramel also, ignoring gravity, flowed up and inside the ingredient. The caramel leaving her eyes and her nose uncovered but not her mouth, unless she panics and ruins the look. The caramel clinging to her skin, picking out every curve on her body from her aroused nipples to her innermost folds. The heat hiding the fact that the nougat had slowly been consuming her from the back while the caramel was doing the same, converting her body to either substance. Stepping around to the front to look at her, the Chef was uninspired to see the caramel-sculpted smile. The Baker was hoping for something sultrier, but it would do. She knew the feeling would be everything she expected and more.
Claire was too busy enjoying the feelings to panic or realize the finality of what she had done to herself. She could only see from the corner of her eye the Baker enjoying this. Claire felt orgasmic as her body was changed into the two substances. It would not be long now before the third covered her body. She could not describe the feeling, but that nagging voice told her that this was bad. That her life was over, but with the feeling, she would now think this was the beginning of something much better. At least it would be a better life until someone decided to eat her.
She talked to her as the chocolate slowly dripped over the caramel and finally plunged her into darkness. The Baker knew that her essence would remain locked in the chocolate. Purring softly as the chocolate began to hug her contours, the Baker looked into the seemingly alive chocolate eyes of her statue. She could feel her still there as she did all her recipes and remarked, "You look as good in chocolate as in life. So much so that I might keep you." The Baker sighed and began to wheel the statue into storage. She talked to the chocolate statue and stroked its breasts and cheeks perversely, "I do wish I got to see what you tasted like. Now all I would taste is caramel and chocolate. Oh well."
Before laughing, wondering how she was going to outdo herself next time, she turned to the statue. It was sitting alone and cold in the walk in fridge. She added one last part. All her true lovers had to know her real name after all and the Baker definitely knew that Claire could still here between the spike of pleasure she felt. "By the way sweetie, the name's Erica and thanks for visiting my Bakery," she cooed and closed the door leaving Claire alone and in the dark.
Welcome
This was created because Yahoo has choose to be, well, Yahoo. I don't trust their Group system anymore. They might delete it at any time, for any reason. So I have come here. I originally thought about Twitter, but it was....stupid. My group was always meant to be a blog anyway. I used the group as a way of showcasing things I liked. I usually deleted or heavily edited anything some else posted. I rarely let a post that was off topic through. This format though is made for showcasing, and when it comes to my kinks and fetishes, they are meant to be showed off! Keeping them private is sooo boring.
More to Come. ^_^
V R Becky
More to Come. ^_^
V R Becky
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