I have decided to begin writing works of fiction again. My phone is helping me. (And a deep hatred of my job.) I actually have made a lot of progress using Google drive. I have upload all my unfinished stories on there and have begun to edit them out. No new Wonka or Bakery chapter right now, but these are things I like. I will eventually finish Bakery and Wonka 3. Bakery Chapter 3's working title is Hot Chocolate, if your care.
I figure the blog will still be a place for ideas and I have one of those waiting in the wings as well.
For now, all my stories will be posted to Deviant Art since it has a better community, built in for feedback. Until they boot me for posting porn.
So here it is,
Tales From Neverland 01
Author Notes
This story sat on my PC for a few years. Just never felt confident to post it after finding overlooked grammar errors in Wonka. (The first paragraph! I missed it and no one told me.)
This is a story born of a very simple RP. The RP was actually a rare one line for me done with dollguy. I refined it and brought it to full story length. I believe the seashell bit was his idea.
Now the general idea here I believe was mine. Basically take Neverland and Peter Pan, and make it quirky and fetish. I believe I was dissing Alan Moore's Lost Girls and League of Gentlemen at the time. (He essentially ripped off the concept of Cartoon All Stars to the Rescue.)
Regardless this is my re imagining of Neverland, which I wanted to place off the coast of Wonderrland. Peter, the only man, is sought after by all the women. His own band of good girls and transformation fodder are the Lost Girls. I figured they are about 18 or so, like Wendy. All the other women are older. The island has hostile Indian Amazon tribes, mermaids, fairies, and even pirates. I figure they are older women, who generally wear lingerie. They tend to either turn Lost Girls into more Lingerie Pirates or parts of their ship. Sometimes chicken girls to lay some eggs.
And all of them want Peter but he's into his own stuff. He will show off, flirt, but has a short attention span. I believe I wanted to make him an utter twit. And a lot of women love twits.
A far better commentary on coming of age, no?
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Friday, April 22, 2011
A Time for Jerks
This needs to be saved. This needs to be placed on the blog as a lesson to everyone out there. A total fucking jerk that needs to be publicly shammed. Because I am apparently a masochist, I keep trying to find RP on F-List and reignite my Fetish. I must be stupid or something, because I find nothing there. When I finally do find a partner, someone with an interesting concept, he asks me to write a post. I wrote the following for a man named Random Battle.
This is the worst type of RP jerk. Bred in chat rooms. He thinks he is all that. With no respect for anyone else. No abilty to work with anyone. No respect for anyone. No fucking class. A two bit piece of shit. Sure, I may be tough, I may expect a lot from partners, but I work with them. I treat them like people. I don't fucking make someone write three paragraphs and then tell them off. Go to his account. Tell him he is lower than pond scum. He has pissed me off enough to write a rant on my blog. That is how low this guy is.
Thanks for the rant.
venusredscar: The alarm rang out into the tiny one bedroom apartment. Rebecca Chambers rolled over with a groan and slapped her arm onto the clock. Her shirt rode up her body from a night of tossing and turning it. Her legs sticking out from under the covers. Her left ass check sticking out, with her black panties pulled up tight into her ass. She let out one more groan before she kicked her legs out, and sat up. Scratching messy head of brown hair she looked around before standing up. Her c cup breasts bouncing under her t shirt as she stumbled toward the bathroom. Her panties pulled up so tight, they gave her the perfect camel toe. She leaned over the sink, "hate Fridays..." she told herself before straightening out, arching her back and tugging her T-shirt off. Her firm breasts bouncing as theI wrote three Paragraphs for this jerk. A simple opening, sure. Nothing spectacular, but it's just a first post to test new waters. I even played up his wants. The ass and the chest thing. How does this Gentleman respond?
venusredscar: tight shirt was removed. The shower started, steam filling the room as she pushed her panties down, tugging them out of her crack. Rebecca took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. She rubbed her stomach. Sure, it was flat, but she just couldn't do anything with her ass. She almost felt like it was pulled her back sometimes. "Everything I do just makes it bigger," she said to herself giving it a smack before jumping into the shower. Rubbing the soap over her body. Mindlessly as she did what she did every morning Rubbing soap on her back, then her going down her chest, around her petite orb tits, a good size. Every time she hit it with the soap it they bounced a bit. She brushed over her petite nipples and down her belly to her hairless sex. Running some fast soap over it, and
venusredscar: around to her ass. She rubbed the big butt. Still sighing at it's size. She ran down her legs. Since it was Friday, and she hated her job as a secretary, she ran the shampoo into her hair and just sat their for a bit, not wanting to go, before finally deciding it was time. Off with the shower and out grabbing a towel, she ran it over her body quickly before going to her living room. Her best friend and co worker would be their soon....
a_random_battle: (A lovely little post in F-list...I think I'll be clicking the ignore button now. And for your information...your a fine Rper...you have good skills. if you had increased the size of Rebecca's chest and done a better job describing the nature of her body...you would have been golden...now, your just nothing Ta-ta)
This is the worst type of RP jerk. Bred in chat rooms. He thinks he is all that. With no respect for anyone else. No abilty to work with anyone. No respect for anyone. No fucking class. A two bit piece of shit. Sure, I may be tough, I may expect a lot from partners, but I work with them. I treat them like people. I don't fucking make someone write three paragraphs and then tell them off. Go to his account. Tell him he is lower than pond scum. He has pissed me off enough to write a rant on my blog. That is how low this guy is.
Thanks for the rant.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Becky Knows When to Hold Them; Knows When to Fold Them
The Witcher is a video game produced by Polish Games Developer Red Studios. It is based on a series of novels by Andrzej Sapkowski. Not reading the literary section of the Warsaw Times? Let me summarize. It is a Standard Fantasy RPG for PC. It has one unique gimmick. The player character can go around and have sexual encounters with various women he meets throughout the game and for each one the player is given a special card to commemorate it. Before you Google, they are located here. If titties scare you, they were censored for the North American release before a patch fixed it. If you clicked that last link, leave my blog now.
This macho game of collecting souvenirs from sexual conquests is all well and good for drunken frat boys, but I require something deeper. The immediate reaction I got from learning of this mechanic was what you all should have just realized. Why don't the women become the cards? A man has sex with them and then collects them. Although the mechanics have been boggling me for the last week. Anyone with an idea to add to this or what they think could spice up the idea, please let me know in the comments. The central theme of this idea though is bondage, so don't tell me that the women should be released later for biscuits and a nice chat. I will brake this post into two sections. First how they get into the card, and the second, what to do after you have a deck of them.
How to Capture the Women in Cards
This part took some time to figure out a working formula. The idea that the card can just touch them and poof, they go inside the card is far too easy. The idea that a spell has to be recounted first is boring. The formula I have decided to go with is the woman is stripped by force, and once nude the card is placed or tossed onto her vagina. She is then magically forced to orgasm, and gets sucked into the card. How she is stripped would be the fun part of this method. Using the Fantasy RPG setting, we use what a Fantasy RPG Adventuring has.
Once the woman is stripped, take the card and place it on her vagina. She may need to be subdued first, tying her up is too easy. You could have golden cuffs that make her do whatever you say. You got them from a slaver you met on the Gold Coast. She does not like doing it, but you hold the key and she has to do what the key holder says. See? That is dressing. It does not lead to the transformation, but it makes the scene sexier. Learn to add things like this to your story to make them better. So once the card is on, the blank side sticks her pussy. She is then forced to orgasm and when she does. She is sucked into the card. Now you have a woman, what to do next.
Flash! Boom! In the Card! Well no, wait. See every part of writing something should have detail. You should use every moment of the sex story to turn on the reader. So she is going into the card. I have two ideas for this. The first is that the card reaches out with long sticky tentacles. White ones too, like the blank paper, and wraps around her legs and arms trapping her. This could just be bondage, but a lot of friends lately seem to be pushing me toward bukake. The stuff could be liquid like, reaching around her, leaving a slimy mess. The woman would feel humiliated. Could be a nice tie in to the fact that she is orgasm now. As if her partner, the card, is cumming all over her.
The other idea is the card sucks the woman in, at the crotch. Her body would fold up. She would look like a gymnast. Her body contorted like nothing she could ever try. Their would be no pain feeling of course. Just this odd feeling of being folded like a piece of paper and sucked into... a piece of paper. Shame she can't be face to face with her own pussy on the way in.
What To Do with Your Deck of Women
Well you could just carry them around as a harem and use them for your own pleasure. Pimp them out when you need a night at an inn or a sword repaired. Or a meal cooked in the woods. That is good, sexiful, but boring. They should be transformed once inside the cards. Even then, still not a use. Could play a game with them? Too much like Yugioh, but trading would of course be kinky. These women are now objects. They should be traded. Should we make them fight? No, then this is just a fancy Pokémon, and Pokéwomen is another idea for another day.
These women should help the Adventurer through battles. Or solve puzzles. Or deal with NPC challenges. I was talking with Tsceri about it, and he was a lot of help. You can see his stories and captions pics here at Transformation Media. Yes it is a TG site mostly, but he is not and he is awesome. He helped me a lot in this area. A woman's skills and personality should effect how the card transforms her. This transformation should happen slowly over time. So the woman is herself for a while, but over time, if released to talk to her owner, she would notice more and more changes about herself as she loses her old self and becomes something new. Here are some ideas Tsceri gave me.
Those are just a few ideas. I would love to hear yours. Do the women needs a purpose beyond sex or is that just reason enough? And remember, a result needs a woman and compelling character to create it. It is not just "this is sexy I want it." How would you create it?
This macho game of collecting souvenirs from sexual conquests is all well and good for drunken frat boys, but I require something deeper. The immediate reaction I got from learning of this mechanic was what you all should have just realized. Why don't the women become the cards? A man has sex with them and then collects them. Although the mechanics have been boggling me for the last week. Anyone with an idea to add to this or what they think could spice up the idea, please let me know in the comments. The central theme of this idea though is bondage, so don't tell me that the women should be released later for biscuits and a nice chat. I will brake this post into two sections. First how they get into the card, and the second, what to do after you have a deck of them.
How to Capture the Women in Cards
This part took some time to figure out a working formula. The idea that the card can just touch them and poof, they go inside the card is far too easy. The idea that a spell has to be recounted first is boring. The formula I have decided to go with is the woman is stripped by force, and once nude the card is placed or tossed onto her vagina. She is then magically forced to orgasm, and gets sucked into the card. How she is stripped would be the fun part of this method. Using the Fantasy RPG setting, we use what a Fantasy RPG Adventuring has.
- Magic Spells - The user fires a bolt at the woman and her clothes turn to ash. This idea can get very interesting. Pick a standard spell from any RPG. A Frost Spell is fired at the woman, and the effected clothing is then frozen and crumbles as she tries to move. If done to a top it could cause her nipples to go erect. A flame spell to singe her ass. Or maybe a Earth Manipulation spell to make the ground muddy and she falls down. Or giant rock spikes appear under her skirt and just missing her vagina tear her dress. Have fun with it.
- Weapons - A massive sword slash to take her top open. Get close and personal with a dagger, reaching around her back and snipping through the laces of her corset while embracing. Zorro up her dress and let it fall down like a sliced pepper. It's all in the style of the fighter. It could be bows and arrows. Pin her against the wall by surrounding her with arrows and dare her to walk forward, turning her dress to shreds.
- Trinkets and Potions - This one could be very similar to spells, but I said those where elemental. This category would be aimed at the sole purpose of stripping. Something that changes her clothes to lingerie. Only something the village tart would wear. Yes we want to strip her, but there is no reason we cannot stop and see sexy sights along the way. Picture an RPG hero walking around with the Amulet of the Harlot. It is used to fire a beam at the women and transforms her clothes. Anything in an RPG manual could be twisted to be a tool of stripping. Perhaps a variation on the Midas Dildo. Only using the first half. Turn the woman on so she strips herself. How much fun would that be?
- Do It by Hand - You could, you big strong man, by why would you? It's boring and predictable. Use your setting. But no sense this cannot be fun too. Grab her skirt and yank it, sending her twisting.
Once the woman is stripped, take the card and place it on her vagina. She may need to be subdued first, tying her up is too easy. You could have golden cuffs that make her do whatever you say. You got them from a slaver you met on the Gold Coast. She does not like doing it, but you hold the key and she has to do what the key holder says. See? That is dressing. It does not lead to the transformation, but it makes the scene sexier. Learn to add things like this to your story to make them better. So once the card is on, the blank side sticks her pussy. She is then forced to orgasm and when she does. She is sucked into the card. Now you have a woman, what to do next.
Flash! Boom! In the Card! Well no, wait. See every part of writing something should have detail. You should use every moment of the sex story to turn on the reader. So she is going into the card. I have two ideas for this. The first is that the card reaches out with long sticky tentacles. White ones too, like the blank paper, and wraps around her legs and arms trapping her. This could just be bondage, but a lot of friends lately seem to be pushing me toward bukake. The stuff could be liquid like, reaching around her, leaving a slimy mess. The woman would feel humiliated. Could be a nice tie in to the fact that she is orgasm now. As if her partner, the card, is cumming all over her.
The other idea is the card sucks the woman in, at the crotch. Her body would fold up. She would look like a gymnast. Her body contorted like nothing she could ever try. Their would be no pain feeling of course. Just this odd feeling of being folded like a piece of paper and sucked into... a piece of paper. Shame she can't be face to face with her own pussy on the way in.
What To Do with Your Deck of Women
Well you could just carry them around as a harem and use them for your own pleasure. Pimp them out when you need a night at an inn or a sword repaired. Or a meal cooked in the woods. That is good, sexiful, but boring. They should be transformed once inside the cards. Even then, still not a use. Could play a game with them? Too much like Yugioh, but trading would of course be kinky. These women are now objects. They should be traded. Should we make them fight? No, then this is just a fancy Pokémon, and Pokéwomen is another idea for another day.
These women should help the Adventurer through battles. Or solve puzzles. Or deal with NPC challenges. I was talking with Tsceri about it, and he was a lot of help. You can see his stories and captions pics here at Transformation Media. Yes it is a TG site mostly, but he is not and he is awesome. He helped me a lot in this area. A woman's skills and personality should effect how the card transforms her. This transformation should happen slowly over time. So the woman is herself for a while, but over time, if released to talk to her owner, she would notice more and more changes about herself as she loses her old self and becomes something new. Here are some ideas Tsceri gave me.
- Succubus - The girl used for this card would be lusty. In her human form she would have defined herself by sex. She would have probably been a hooker or prostitute. She would look the part too. Her breasts larger, her skin a cute color. Tail, horns, and maybe wings. She would love seducing as soon as she was released. A creature though who doesn't want to be controlled but is controlled could be very interesting to see how she reacts.
- Panther Woman - This woman would be a captured assassin or thief girl. Her speed, agility and stealthy prowess in her human form has made her cat person in this one. A panther and not a house cat because a panther is much fiercer and all around cooler. With her furry black skin, she would be released and sent off to steal something or kill someone, or seduce someone by sneaking past guards. She would be hidden in darkness except for her piercing yellow eyes.
- Angel Lady - Tsceri said a White Mage Healer should become this one. She would be very very hard to capture, so she should have awesome powers, but the best he could think up was healing. This would be a very good card to capture and of value. It also highlights why you do not just grab any women. You want someone who will bring out great power once transformed.
- Ice Queen - This one would have been a cold, uncaring bitch in life, or something. She clearly never cared about other people, so now she has a frozen touch. This is more of a cliched joke, but he did mention a Shiva from Final Fantasy who gave a visual for this idea.
- Seirin - I will let Tsceri RP post speak.
"Let's see..." she flipped through a couple cards before planting another one, face up, at her host. This one had a blonde girl with skin tinted by green scales, her hands were webbed, and her thighs seemed to merge into a large scaled fish's tail. It seemed like she was laying down on a rocky beach, waves and sea painted in the background, her boobs squished against the rock and two of her fingers in her mouth, sucked on by luscious lips. Her eyes were inviting, and her entire appearance was alluring. In similar golden letters below her, the word 'Sirena' was written. "This one is a favorite. She's not good at all for combat, but her singing has some special properties. It can enchant the unwary, lull mercenaries or soldiers into traps, and it can definitely spice up a party. Not all of the cards have to be powerful fighters, you see. That one was an unexpected bonus... Inspiration struck in a tavern at a port. I met a singer, I believe her name was Electra. Absolutely enchanting voice, and I was suitably novel enough to impress her. I invited her to my room, and she spent half the night telling me stories. She'd been traveling the Inner Sea all her life, from port to port across the salty waves. With that in mind, I lovingly went about my labors, and this card came into being. It requires emotion, longing, passion... but you can feel the results are certainly worth it..."
- Amphibian Girl - One more from the RP we tried. I actually know someone else who would be jealous at this.
She put down another card. It was shockingly different from the other two. Its background seemed to be a swamp, and at the forefront stood a creature unlike anything Samantha had ever seen. It was shaped like a woman, but with the taunt, tight, slimy green skin of a frog. Its legs stretched out, warping into the giant fins of a frog instead of human feet. Its body was smooth, with no nipples atop the orbs of its green breasts. Its hands were webbed, one posted atop her hip, the other atop her belly. Its head was what was truly odd. It, too, was hairless, but the lips and jaw seemed subtly wrong. They were a color of green just off from the rest of her body, but Samantha got the impression they could stretch much, much further than a human mouth could. The eyes stared out, hungrily, as a long pink tongue hung out of the mouth, wrapped around the girl's figure, first around her back, then in a curl along her breast, spiraling to where her nipple should have been. The script below this one read 'Voracia'. She chuckled, "Who says its the cards that have me excited? This one... well, Voracia is a nasty one. She's a creature of greed and hunger, inspired by one of the most unpleasant girls I ever had the misfortune of meeting. She isn't all that much in a fight... except for one ability I've found useful time and time again. She can lash out with that tongue, entwine someone in it, and then pull it again, right into her mouth. She swallows, and that's one enemy who'll never trouble anyone again. She really enjoys it, too. You can just feel it in the card, can't you? She's savoring her last meal while her appetite grows. Sometimes, these things can be just as horrible as they are beautiful. The girl who inspired this was a glutton. A fat wench who lorded her power over everything
Those are just a few ideas. I would love to hear yours. Do the women needs a purpose beyond sex or is that just reason enough? And remember, a result needs a woman and compelling character to create it. It is not just "this is sexy I want it." How would you create it?
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Becky's Duke of New York. She's A #1.
Of all the late 90's First Person Shooters, only one is still the King. Fans still await a sequel with hope that it will be awesome. All the others had sequels and failed in the first decade of the new Millennium. Doom? It sucks now. Quake? Sucks. Turok? Sucks and the Company who made it died a long, sad, and uncomfortable to watch death. Golden Eye? Sold to EA and raped well over ten times. One game from the late 90's whose sequels still gives a glimmer of hope to fans is Duke Nukem. Of course, at this point, Duke Nukem Never is a legendary joke of vaporware. This is thanks to 3D Realms and their amazing model of inefficiency. They had something to do with Prey, which had a ten years or so of development. How they can afford to produce a game for over a decade is beyond belief. Who pays these people? There have been several builds of the game as time passes and whatever they have goes out of date. I don't beleive for a second this thing is really dead for good. Regardless...
This week on Xbox Live I picked up the the Arcade Classic, Duke Nukem 3D for half price. I had played Doom II back in the day, and can say this is game was pretty much a clone in style. The style of level design/graphics is the same pretty much. At least to a lay girl just looking at it. Of course, it does its own thing and has its own charm to do it. The Duke is funny as an over the top, womanizing action hero. The level design is still original and has it's own secrets and style. (What little style can be had in old school games.) The game has a better story line than just demons in space; go and kill them. And this surprised me the most.
Why didn't anyone tell me there existed a video game where aliens come to earth and put women in pods? With a possible plot to turn them into an alien Queen? The game is based around aliens trapping women and using them to breed. THIS IS AWESOME!
From the Duke Nukem Wiki. Apparently they are called "Babes."
Either the aliens capture the ladies and put them in slime, or maybe the women while escaping/evading the aliens stumble into it. Once their feet get into they are stuck, or maybe they stumble. A women in high heels, running down a corridor trying to evade the alien brute behind her, thinks she lost it, and her heel catches on the slime. She stumbles and falls to the ground, while getting up she steps back into the wall and gets caught. The slime of course melts and disposes of their clothes, and keeps their belly, breasts, and vagina exposed. The picture has tenticles covering the nipples, perhaps they are sucking on the nipples. The woman's bodies forced to produce milk or nectar for the slime to feed on. Maybe it is thick like honey so they really need to suck those titties hard.
To get the woman to produce this nectar they would need to be changed inside. This would seal their fate. Just saying prolonged exposure to the slime is a cop out. Having it go through their skin is no good for a fetish story. Having the slime drill up their ass, now that is hot. So the woman is capture. It's making her clothes melt away. Her short skirt is a mess, curled up. She can feel the slime on her as, moving into the crack, braking apart her thong string. The warm goo squishing between her ass cheeks. And then, she feels the first nudge. Testing the resistance. Her eyes go wide, and the slime enters, pouring into her belly. The gooy enema filling her, going into her belly. Maybe it begins to expand a bit, but not too much. The big show is for later.
The slime is inside her, her ass is stretch. This would really drive home the point she is stuck. Trapped. Captured. Of course by now her arms and legs are completely slime covered. Preventing almost all movement. The slime inside her, spreads, morphing her insides. Changing her to it's needs. Not sure what those are. Feel free to give me ideas on the purpose. I am going to focus on the woman's plight.
So her insides are changing. Her tits swelling larger because of the nectar. The slime would feed off her body somehow, maybe something stupid like her body heat. This is fetish story, do we need to make sense? The Matrix didn't. Most hentia would just have it feed off her sexual juices. Or maybe just use photosynthesis, whatever. The point is the slime grows whenever the aliens leave it. Picture a girl's locker room at a high school or a local gym. Filled with bloated, moaning women trapped in alien slime. The entire rooms changes it a hive for these aliens. There could be lots of places with multiple women in one place. A strip club turned alien hive would be a setting very much in to
ne with Duke Nukem.
Found this pic. Claimed to be Concept art for one of the incarnations of Duke Nukem Forever that was developed. Probably fanart or a fake given the nudity. And it is nothing like my idea, so moving on...
Something needs to be added to these women to create something for the aliens. What are they doing for the aliens? Breeding. Now there are two ways to go with this. The aliens fertilize them or human men fertilize them. Both can be done at the same time. The women are changed internally, so they can accept the alien seed. These same changes could change the way the women accept a human man's seed. Since we left her pussy exposed, it would be easy for the man to access it. Instead of moaning, "Kiiiillll....meee.....Kill meeee." She moans, "Fuck me. Fuck me." Perhaps the slime release pheromones to attract men and keep their attitudes positive. The women are so slimes up of course they want it. Their clits could even be enlarged, or made extra sensitive by the slime. In fact, their entire vaginal canel could be as a sensitive or more than their clit. A girl might even like this.
As for the man, I am thinking some minor changes for fucking these women. Maybe a testosterone boost. Making them more macho. Big brawny tough men. And of course, their did dicks would get bigger, maybe with pulsing green veins. And big, swollen testicles with plenty of extra seed and a drive to keep fucking. Maybe they even turn into pig men or lizard men or something. There were Pig Men (Cops) in the game.
Anyway, what happens to the women? All I know that this leads to eggs growing in their bellies. Now is when they get mega pregnant bellies. Stretching bigger and bigger, and at some point, the outline of the eggs is seen under the skin, because they are just packed so tight. Maybe their bodies don't control their incubation enough and if a girl is not fuck a few times, slowly expanding over time, her body cannot handle all the eggs inside and she pops! Popping is awesome. The slime would still have her alive, but her belly is open, the green slime oozing out. With her primary purpose gone, she would be absorbed into the slim to make more. Melting into slime.
For those that make lots of eggs, the hive probably grows on the floor and creates canals. A woman lays an egg, and it rolls along a little path made by slime, and goes to the center of the room, with all the other eggs. Creating a nest. What is in the eggs? I have no idea. Could be more aliens. Could be a special type of alien. Could be a dog alien. Could be the Flood. One idea is to borrow from Attack of the Killer Clowns and have this be all about the food. The aliens of course eat the eggs. Not sure. I do know that eventually the woman burn out from this. So either they pop, or the slime changes their purpose making them maybe like, caterpillar women who go around cocooning others. Or...
So what do you think of this idea? As always I want to hear your ideas and such. Can't promise it will ever be a story, but I am available for Detailed, Para Roleplay on YIM. My screen names are BeckyFire88 and VenusRedscar Give me a ring. No one on my friends list seems to be online lately.... >_> Don't be afraid to give me a ring. Thanks to my mobile I am practically always on.
So tell me your ideas with this.
This week on Xbox Live I picked up the the Arcade Classic, Duke Nukem 3D for half price. I had played Doom II back in the day, and can say this is game was pretty much a clone in style. The style of level design/graphics is the same pretty much. At least to a lay girl just looking at it. Of course, it does its own thing and has its own charm to do it. The Duke is funny as an over the top, womanizing action hero. The level design is still original and has it's own secrets and style. (What little style can be had in old school games.) The game has a better story line than just demons in space; go and kill them. And this surprised me the most.
Why didn't anyone tell me there existed a video game where aliens come to earth and put women in pods? With a possible plot to turn them into an alien Queen? The game is based around aliens trapping women and using them to breed. THIS IS AWESOME!
From the Duke Nukem Wiki. Apparently they are called "Babes."
This has potential and there are a few ways to go with this, but I am going to stick to breeding ideas. I have heard there are similar ideas in Dragon Age as well, but I refuse to buy a new game at full price. Now I know the picture above is small and grainy, but the basic concept is that the women have been trapped in slime and cannot move. I figure the alien slime is fungus like, and can grow around the women on it's own.Babes are shootable objects, which can do no damage, just standing in a green plant-like trap, pleading "kill me... Kill me..."
Babes are the only women in the game (except for dancers), they are caught by the aliens during the invasion.
Babes need about 2 shots with the shotgun, and when they are hit, they make a screaming noise when Duke will says "Damn it!" or or "Damn.". It is not necessary to kill her due to that she can't attack, but sometimes there are secrets behind them. However, killing her may could spawn monsters, just like dancers. It is possible that the aliens captured these women to create Alien Queen.
Either the aliens capture the ladies and put them in slime, or maybe the women while escaping/evading the aliens stumble into it. Once their feet get into they are stuck, or maybe they stumble. A women in high heels, running down a corridor trying to evade the alien brute behind her, thinks she lost it, and her heel catches on the slime. She stumbles and falls to the ground, while getting up she steps back into the wall and gets caught. The slime of course melts and disposes of their clothes, and keeps their belly, breasts, and vagina exposed. The picture has tenticles covering the nipples, perhaps they are sucking on the nipples. The woman's bodies forced to produce milk or nectar for the slime to feed on. Maybe it is thick like honey so they really need to suck those titties hard.
To get the woman to produce this nectar they would need to be changed inside. This would seal their fate. Just saying prolonged exposure to the slime is a cop out. Having it go through their skin is no good for a fetish story. Having the slime drill up their ass, now that is hot. So the woman is capture. It's making her clothes melt away. Her short skirt is a mess, curled up. She can feel the slime on her as, moving into the crack, braking apart her thong string. The warm goo squishing between her ass cheeks. And then, she feels the first nudge. Testing the resistance. Her eyes go wide, and the slime enters, pouring into her belly. The gooy enema filling her, going into her belly. Maybe it begins to expand a bit, but not too much. The big show is for later.
The slime is inside her, her ass is stretch. This would really drive home the point she is stuck. Trapped. Captured. Of course by now her arms and legs are completely slime covered. Preventing almost all movement. The slime inside her, spreads, morphing her insides. Changing her to it's needs. Not sure what those are. Feel free to give me ideas on the purpose. I am going to focus on the woman's plight.
So her insides are changing. Her tits swelling larger because of the nectar. The slime would feed off her body somehow, maybe something stupid like her body heat. This is fetish story, do we need to make sense? The Matrix didn't. Most hentia would just have it feed off her sexual juices. Or maybe just use photosynthesis, whatever. The point is the slime grows whenever the aliens leave it. Picture a girl's locker room at a high school or a local gym. Filled with bloated, moaning women trapped in alien slime. The entire rooms changes it a hive for these aliens. There could be lots of places with multiple women in one place. A strip club turned alien hive would be a setting very much in to
ne with Duke Nukem.Found this pic. Claimed to be Concept art for one of the incarnations of Duke Nukem Forever that was developed. Probably fanart or a fake given the nudity. And it is nothing like my idea, so moving on...
Something needs to be added to these women to create something for the aliens. What are they doing for the aliens? Breeding. Now there are two ways to go with this. The aliens fertilize them or human men fertilize them. Both can be done at the same time. The women are changed internally, so they can accept the alien seed. These same changes could change the way the women accept a human man's seed. Since we left her pussy exposed, it would be easy for the man to access it. Instead of moaning, "Kiiiillll....meee.....Kill meeee." She moans, "Fuck me. Fuck me." Perhaps the slime release pheromones to attract men and keep their attitudes positive. The women are so slimes up of course they want it. Their clits could even be enlarged, or made extra sensitive by the slime. In fact, their entire vaginal canel could be as a sensitive or more than their clit. A girl might even like this.
As for the man, I am thinking some minor changes for fucking these women. Maybe a testosterone boost. Making them more macho. Big brawny tough men. And of course, their did dicks would get bigger, maybe with pulsing green veins. And big, swollen testicles with plenty of extra seed and a drive to keep fucking. Maybe they even turn into pig men or lizard men or something. There were Pig Men (Cops) in the game.
Anyway, what happens to the women? All I know that this leads to eggs growing in their bellies. Now is when they get mega pregnant bellies. Stretching bigger and bigger, and at some point, the outline of the eggs is seen under the skin, because they are just packed so tight. Maybe their bodies don't control their incubation enough and if a girl is not fuck a few times, slowly expanding over time, her body cannot handle all the eggs inside and she pops! Popping is awesome. The slime would still have her alive, but her belly is open, the green slime oozing out. With her primary purpose gone, she would be absorbed into the slim to make more. Melting into slime.
For those that make lots of eggs, the hive probably grows on the floor and creates canals. A woman lays an egg, and it rolls along a little path made by slime, and goes to the center of the room, with all the other eggs. Creating a nest. What is in the eggs? I have no idea. Could be more aliens. Could be a special type of alien. Could be a dog alien. Could be the Flood. One idea is to borrow from Attack of the Killer Clowns and have this be all about the food. The aliens of course eat the eggs. Not sure. I do know that eventually the woman burn out from this. So either they pop, or the slime changes their purpose making them maybe like, caterpillar women who go around cocooning others. Or...
So what do you think of this idea? As always I want to hear your ideas and such. Can't promise it will ever be a story, but I am available for Detailed, Para Roleplay on YIM. My screen names are BeckyFire88 and VenusRedscar Give me a ring. No one on my friends list seems to be online lately.... >_> Don't be afraid to give me a ring. Thanks to my mobile I am practically always on.
So tell me your ideas with this.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Becky at the Shore
You might be wondering why my wonderful new blog has been silent the past week. Well it is because I've been on vacation at the seaside. The week has been stimulating as always. Nothing more relaxing that laying on the beach and jumping in the surf. And always being stylish in my wonderful one piece swimsuit, because you don't need to be a mostly nude to skank to be sexy. Of course, being a beach of such skanks leads me to think of wonderful ideas to transform them.
Back in the 80's, when cinema was not exactly experiencing a Renaissance, the movie The Malibu Bikini Shop (sometimes titled just The Bikini Shop) was produced. Other than being the last work Frank Nelson, the film was a typical 80's comedy, filled with cheap site gags and just enough nudity to make it almost seem worth it. The plot was simple. Two brothers inherit a bikini shop from their aunt right on the boardwalk. One is a straight laced MBA and the other, a clone of Spicoli. Hilarity and plenty of women in bikinis ensue. One gag with an intended consequence was the One Way Mirror in the dressing rooms, which of course meant good old Auntie wasn't just a voyuer, but a lesbian as well.
The story can be transferred into a fetish story pretty easily. Give it to two sisters, who always loved visiting Auntie as a kid, but didn't get a chance to see her much after becoming teens. Of course, avoid mentioning Auntie died, (for atmosphere and for a surprise later) and give the shop to the two when they are both about twenty five. Keep one the straight laced college girl with the MBA and the other the party girl (give her a degree in "communications"). Once the two are in the shop, give them a little nostalgia, have the aunt's lawyer give them the shop (mentioning how she disappeared, and planned for it), and give the two Auntie's journal. The party girl will probably go straight to testing out merchandise and be wearing a bikini for the rest of the story, maybe make it constantly changing too. (Or not depending on the road taken.) Maybe there is even a Lingerie Annex of the shop. For variety.
As the wiser one reads the journal, she notices what Auntie's shop really was. A giant Transformation trap! The store is chocked full of transformation triggers, catching bundles of beach bunnies in bikinis. Plenty of mannequins about, probably with deals having surplus sold to Department Stores and other shops along the beach. Clothing transformation, doll, poster. Card board cut outs. How hot is that? Turning a Bikini Wearing Babe into nothing more than a cardboard cut out. The hardest part is figuring out where to put all the traps and what they should be. The wiser girl reads the journal. Maybe the ditz triggers a trap early on. MBA probably figures out how to reverse it to keep the dynamic, plus I figure Ditz will start doing things like holding Bikini Contests outside on the boardwalk and loving the idea of transforming. The other sister isn't repulsed, but takes it more slowly. Transforming lovely ladies must run in the family.
The part where this story would stand out stylistically is the journal. Chapters should brake from the story and have an excerpt of Auntie's journal. Maybe giving insight into how the trap came about, its first use, or how Auntie thought of it. All the while give more background on why Auntie had the shop, why she opened, where the powers came from, and where ultimately she ended up. Also, I like to know who was transformed so reading about a couple of past mannequins (or where the girl on the painted sign outside) came from would be interesting.
This story would be a long hall. Its been a long while since someone wrote a compelling, continuous ten chapter plus transformation story. Something with an ongoing plot and not just a serial. It would probably take a note book of fashion research as well as figuring out Auntie Backstory and where to send the sisters. Really to do the idea justice, it is almost like writing two stories at the same time. Plus, the Mannequin Genre needs a kick in the ass. Most writers don't even bother writing why the mannequin transformation works. Its about desexualizing a woman (removing pussy and genitalia) while putting her in clothing which embraces her sexuality. And of course the control aspects of not allowing her to move or speak. Most authors skip any detial on fashion. Not even bothering with a simple Google search. Mannequin transformation is the biggest (and sexiest) tease there is! Try harder!
This story probably won't get written... unless of course I hear some good, detailed ideas for traps in the comment section. I'll be listening.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Becky Finds Kink Everywhere
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?
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?
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
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