Monday, 30 June 2014

...That is not dead which can eternal lie, and with strange aeons even death may die

Unfortunately, it's not today. Usually (in fact all of the time), I would use real life as a reason for the delay but that's only applicable about two months ago. I've been slacking these two months, slowly writing up various captions just to abandon them when I hit upon writer's block and finally I've finished a few of the ones that still hold promise. I think.

I've also noticed the transcripts are rather long so readers may not be able to see all the posts at one go, so I've included links to various of the captions I have created for this update.

Masking, bodysuit:
Transformation, Medallion of Zulo:
Costume Gun:

To Catch a Voyeur


“Oh yes, that feels so good!” the woman on the sofa moans as her left hand rubs her clit while her other hand busily fingers her own vagina. Her moaning is loud and clear, as if she thinks she is alone in the mansion and her dirty moans will not be heard by anybody from the outside.

She was wrong for I am peeping at her from my window at next door, feasting my eyes and ears on the lewd scene laid before me. It’s a wonder what can do with a high-powered telescope and a industry grade laser microphone. The woman writhing in pleasure is my neighbour, Claire, a rather demure girl that is considered by many as a piano prodigy. Now clearly, I can see her talent in handling the piano is just as applicable in masturbation with her slender fingers massaging her pussy in varying speed and ferocity.

This is also not the first time I’m peeping at Claire’s self-loving session either. She only masturbates around this time when the house is empty, her stay-home father having his weekly golf session, her mother working as a executive in some fortune 500 company, his brother attending practice with his band and the rest of the servants having their weekly day-off. Here is the perfect time to let herself wild from the strict piano regime and academic life. It’s arousing to see these two different sides of her and I have front row seats for it.

This, however, is the first time I’ve seen her dressed like this. Usually, she would be either in her casual clothes or her school uniform (my favourite) but today, she has apparently raided her mother’s closet and dressing table. Open-toed high heel shoes that accentuate her slender legs, flesh-toned stockings that clings lovingly to her thighs and giving them a warmer tone to her already graceful legs, waist cincher that gives her lithe body a bit of the hourglass shape but the most important change is her makeup. I’ve never seen her with makeup and I’ve always thought she is cute without it. But with it? She’s a fucking goddess, especially the full lips, oh how it begs to be kissed. Claire, you’re putting on quite a show-

“Oh Mister Barlow, I wish this was your cock here. Mmm, fuck me harder Mister Barlow!”

Wait, Barlow? Is she calling my name?

I know he has been peeping at me for quite some time. In fact, little Claire here has already known about it hence the routine; she knows when her audience will look in. I would wager Barlow doesn’t know of her exhibitionistic streak but that is alright, today shall be an enlightening day for Mr Barlow.

Zachery Barlow, a millionaire whose fortune is built on top of spams, personal information, stolen credit numbers and other illegal electronic means, is a quirky one. A recluse and apparently shy freelance computer hacker, he spent most of his time holed up in his mansion alone, preferably dealing his business remotely. However, his home is hardened against electronic surveillance, his hardware runs on a custom ROM and worse of all, his wall of lawyers forbids any legal shenanigans against him. No friends, no family, not even a courier enters his mansion. It’s like a high tech Waziristan Haveli.

The Costume Gun is the agency’s secret and most horrifying weapon. Anyone could wield it so the agency restrict all access to it barring a few individuals like me. However, with this situation, I can’t even get close to Barlow or even initiate contact with him until I met Claire. She’s initially used for surveillance as the neighbours probably know him better than we do.

Luring her to a secluded spot under the guise of her friend, I simply zapped her with it and watched her deflated at that instant. The sensation of wearing a skin is familiar but always alien to me: legs narrowing to fit her supple legs, penis disappearing into the skin as I pulled it up; a feminine slit taking its place instead, hips and butt flaring to suit the petite body, chest swelling to fill her perky breast and finally, the head deforming to conform to her demure, delicate face. The transformation was finished, I had become Claire.

While wearing back her clothes, I fought the disorientation and nausea that flooded my senses, it happened whenever my mind adjusted to a new body. Prodding about in Claire’s memory, I was surprised about her little exhibitionistic session with Barlow, looks like the neighbours did know better than us after all. By the time I returned home, I have quickly adapted to Claire’s mannerism and personality due to her memories. No one would suspect me, not even the perverse Barlow.

A moan escapes me as I rubbed the clit of my stolen body’s vagina, my other hand toying with my erected nipple. All these while looking directly at Barlow’s direction, telling him that I know his dirty secret but I am fine with it. Replaying her memory, I mimicked her usual way of masturbating, this way Barlow would even not suspect an imposter. However, I did do something out of character, I stole some lingerie, hosiery and heels from Claire’s mother closet and powdered myself using her mother’s makeup. Despite Claire’s inexperience with such things, I use my own experience from my time as other woman to complement her. The silk stocking clung lovingly to Claire’s toned legs and her heels compliment it. I reasoned that if I wish to get even closer to Barlow, I will have to do some extraordinary makeover with Claire.

Amidst the pleasure assailing my mind, I sense that Claire’s body is nearing to a climax. Smiling lustfully, I got off the counch and knelt on the floor and make sure that my moist and swollen snatch is facing Barlow’s direction. Once done, I gyrate my hips while fingering my pussy with renew vigour.

“Oh Mister Barlow, are you looking at this?” I purr as I look back, mustering the lustiest face I can give to him. My breathing quickens as I feel the vaginal muscle clenching, readying itself a mighty bulidup of lust and carnal desire, “Fuck yes, I’m cumming. Fuck, Mister Barlow, cum on me!” I screamed as the buildup explodes, blanking out my mind and sharply spreading pleasure across my spine.

Today, Claire and Barlow has grown even closer than usual. Tomorrow when Claire visits me personally, I will make sure they grow even closer.

Sunday, 29 June 2014

Cat and Mouse


The assailant closed the door behind him and unconsciously touched his face when he saw the man on the bed looking up to him. He knew that the disguise is perfect but that action was a bad habit of his, cultivated from the days of the Cold War espionage.

“Lorie, who was it?” the man asked groggily as if awoke from a slumber.

“Oh it’s Jacqueline, that silly girl. She just wanted to return me the novel I lent her before she goes off to Las Vegas,” the assailant replied. That was not entirely a lie as it was indeed Jacqueline that visited Lorie Perry, at least that was what it looked like to the neighbours and Lorie herself.

“I’m sorry to bother you honey, let’s go to bed,” the assailant said sheepishly as he climbed into the bed. His dulcet tone was exactly like that of Lorie’s, something inimitable to even the most impressive artist, the assailant would never cease to be surprised of the voice coming out of his voice box. It was something the device could do.

“Hmm, should we give her a lift to the airport tomorrow, I’m leaving as well-”

“Oh don’t be silly, her flight would be in the afternoon. Your flight is the morning,” That however, was a lie. In fact, Jacqueline was still downstairs, in the storeroom. The assailant in Jacqueline’s skin visited Lorie under the pretense of returning the novel. Returning the novel, the assailant, in Jacqueline’s plummy voice, asked for a drink. He knew from Jacqueline’s memory, that Lorie had good hospitality and would not reject her offer. Once Lorie had her back turned, the assailant took out a toy gun and aimed at her. With a silent and sudden flash, Lorie was no more, her form disappeared from where she walked, leaving only a pile of her nightwear and skin on that spot.

Quickly, the assailant entered the house, he knew he had not much time else the husband suspected something. Stripping fast without a waste of movement, he pointed the toy gun to himself and triggered. Jacqueline’s face crumpled and sagged as the assailant pulled off the skinsuit from behind his head, showing a rather bald and beady-eyes man. Wriggling out of Jacqueline’s skin, he moved his muscular naked form over to Lorie’s pile and wore her skin through the opening at the back. His thick legs shrank and elongated as he put his legs into the suit, suiting that of Lorie’s shapely legs. Pulling up the suit, his body shrank and wrapped as it adapted to the suit’s frame; his penis flattened and melded with Lorie’s smooth nether region, his hips and ass flared while his abdomen tightened and wrapped into Lorie’s hourglass figure, his chest expanded and moulded itself to fill Lorie’s luscious breast and finally, when he pulled the empty face over his, his face deformed within to aligned itself with Lorie’s face.

Alien sensation filled his body as the assailant's mind got used to the new body he had acquired, he felt a sense of familiarity as he took on Lorie’s identity. This is her home, she is the wife of the assailant’s target, Dr. Oved Silverstein, one of DARPA’s top scientist, tomorrow she had to attend a community event but before that, she was going to accompany her husband to the airport where he would fly to Edinburgh for a conference. A perfect cover. The assailant could leisurely look through the house for information of the alleged anti-costume gun prototype

That done, the assailant defly gather Jacquline’s pile and shove them into the storeroom, after which, she went up all the while sashaying as the assailant quickly conditioned himself to get used to Lorie’s gait while whispering to herself to get used to her manners of speech. All of these within an instant as he tapped into Lorie’s mind, something only the device can do.

As the couples fell asleep, the good doctor never suspected a thing. Even when he coyly wrapped his arms around his wife to get a good feel of her body, her wife merely cooed in return and wrapped her nylon clad legs around his, just like every other night. ‘Ah, my wife knows best,’ the scientist thought as he drifted himself to sleep, smelling the scent his wife always used before he slept.

I did it! I finally did it! The mystery of the Costume Gun is no more!

With this, we could use it deter the rampant espionage going around the world and unethical use of such devices. Still it’s fascinating how the costume gun works; breaking down the victim’s molecular structures, it -

“Honey, is that you?”

Oh, my thoughts must have wandered again. No wonder my wife calls me scatterbrained. This reminds me, I have to re-orgranise my desk. It’s a mess but I don’t remember touching it before I left for Edinburgh. Oh whatever, celebration comes first.

“Dear, you cannot believe what I’ve done,”

“Oh honey, you can tell me all about it when we get back from dinner. Now, get dressed now or we’ll be late,” Walking up the stairs, I finally realise the glasses I am wearing. Oh dear, I brought the prototype home! The prototype that allows the user to see through a costume gun user by highlighting the point of entry of the skin. This point of entry on the victim’s skin is created when the costume gun is used on a victim, I have found out this entry is visible under specific electromagnetic spectrum which this pair of glass can filter with visible light.

I get into the bedroom just to see my wife doing her make-up in the room. Ah, as beautiful and sexy as always, I wonder whether would she prepare some kinky-wait, what is that slit?!

Smoke and Mirror


“You know, I say I’m desperate but I’m not that desperate,”

“Nonsense, my dear brother. You are contemplating to sell dad’s house to pay off out debts. Admit it Charles, you are scraping the bottom of the barrel,”

“Yeah but there isn’t a need to do this-”

“Charles, listen to me. It’s exactly because you can that’s why we are doing this. It’s fine if you wish to flip burgers or be a Walmart employee but you must understand your gift is going to open doors for you,”

“Not a particular gift I’m proud of, sis,”

“We all had to earn our living. Some of us are not fortunate enough to live our dreams, you know?”

Charles sighed. All he wanted to do was to teach. However society’s paranoia of males around young kids and perception of male teachers not being sympathetic or good as their female counterparts were obstacles to his dream. Then again, Charles was not your typical male; being shorter, smaller and androgynous due to genes and diet, Charles still look quite boyish despite being in his late twenties. That was his sister’s inspiration.

His sister, Jennifer had a outlandish idea. If they don’t wish to hire Charles, maybe they will hire Charline instead, Charles alter ego. It was not first time he had crossdressed anyway, she reasoned as he had a minor in theatrics. In his course of studies, he had experienced being the fairer sex for the sake of the play but that was that, merely theatrics and drama. However, he argued, this was real life. Nobody would be that stupid.

How very wrong was he when Jennifer, a makeup artist by trade, applied her magic on his face; thick eyeliners and eyeshadows on his eyes to emphasise them, foundation to hide the blemishes and 5 o’clock shadows, lipsticks and lipliners to make his lips fuller and brushes on his face to soften his manly features. When the wig was put over him, Charles scrutinised his reflection; all that was greeted to him was a familiar but feminine face. The reflection’s solemn but seductive eyes disguised his plain beady eyes, its elongated and narrow nose created through concealers and brush, its lips made full using nothing but lipstick, lipgloss, lipliner and depth perception and its cheeks slightly full and puffed with judicial application of the rogue. Charline was staring at him.

“Holy shit Jennifer, how?” Charles muttered in amazement however he noted that his voice had spoiled the illusion a bit and if he looked at it closer, it was as if his face was emerging from the reflection.

“Smokes and mirrors, dear brother. Now let’s change that tone of yours. It’s unsightly for a woman to have such a deep voice.” Jennifer replied mockingly.

Charles chuckled, it was a while since he did this, he wondered whether he still got it in him. “I know darling, is this good enough?” a huskier voice emanated from his voice box, ‘that’s better,’ he thought as he looked, it complimented the rather somber lady in the mirror.

“Not yet hun,” Jennifer rummaged through a couple of bags and took out a pair of breast form, “you still look like a man down there.”

Charles then went through the transformation like a routine as habits from his theatre days came back to him. The process felt familiar; shaving off the remaining hairs on his legs, moisturising of the skin, the breast forms, the infamous tucking of the cock to give the illusion of a flat, smooth crotch.wearing of the bra first before hooking, the padded girdles that was seemingly one size smaller all the time, rolling up of the tights and carefully pulling them up through both legs, buttons on the left side of clothes and finally, the airy opening beneath his skirt.

And when he finally did up his own hair, he looked into the mirror again. There, a fully bona fide female wa staring at him, he smiled and the reflection did the same, he posed and the reflection copied his move.  The illusion was immaculate not only from the outside but the inside as well, Charles was slowly being convinced that he was a female as he relished the feeling of his satin blouse caressing his bare skin, his opaque black tights wrapping around his legs tightly, his skirt hugging snugly against his false hip and his breast form weighing against the bra like actual breasts.

“So, shall we see whether people are as stupid as you thought?” Jennifer snapped out of his reverie as she grabbed her bag, “Hmm, Charline?” Jennifer continued cheekily. The woman in front of the mirror merely turned her smile into a smirk as she sashayed confidently towards her sister, skills learnt from the past were returning to her. Her heels clicked loudly against the marble floor, each move causing his false bosom to bounce slightly and his nylon clad thighs to rub against each other tenderly. Charline was loving these sensations.

“Let’s go darling,” Charline said with a dignified air, a headmistresses archetype should be most welcomed for a lot of school and she wanted to get her act right.

Thursday, 26 June 2014

Ensnared by a Dionaea


The room, as usual, is filled with the smell of rose and lilac, no doubt from her perfume to enhance her femininity. Sometimes, I wonder whether she tempers it by adding pheromones to arouse people around her seeing that man and woman alike are always receptive towards her.

‘Her’? Ah yes, I’ve gone over the dilemma of assigning a gender to ‘her’. It’s easier that way, besides, she likes it when she’s referred as ‘miss’.

There she is, crouching in front of her mirror, clad in silk lingerie and fishnet stocking. She must have heard me and assumed that position for she knows what I like, her slim but firm derriere. Her skin seems to shimmer in the light and one does not need to touch to know that it is smooth and soft. How she does maintain that body is anybody’s guess, she’s extremely tight-lipped with her regime. Hormones, exercise, diet, genetics, surgery, fucking magic? Could be any of those and frankly, I have stopped rationalising a few weeks after being employed under her. Besides, I have a bigger problem now as I discretely shift my pants.

“Are you ready, ma'am?” I clear my throat, trying to level my tone. Keep it professional, Yori, it is not after hours yet. The woman narrowed her lips (made plump no doubt with the help of lipstick) into a fake pout. “How many times do I have to tell you,” she swang deftly and crossed her toned legs, “call me Minako,” My eyes immediately take in the sight of her lithe body, the petite bosom; realistic breast form with its lines masked under foundational make-up, taut stomach and the flat nether region of which under the silk panty tucks a male appendage that contradicts against her feminine illusion.

“Oh, I wonder what are you looking at?” She grins as she catches my line of sight. Her feminine voice, no doubt trained from young, betrays no sign of masculinity. People have often expressed surprise when they know of her identity (it takes a lot of persuasion, some had even demanded her to strip and show her genitia) and most often than not it’s either disgust, admiration, arousal or a mixture of all three after the initial shock.

I belonged to the latter, that is probably why she teases me so. She enjoys seeing people squirm as they question their notion taken granted. She also enjoys it when people shower her with affection not because of her femininity but because of who she is and she knows I would shower her with it by pressing the right buttons.    

“Anyway, please get ready, ma’am. The play is starting soon,” I replied curtly and turned around just in time to get hugged from behind. Her deft hands rubbing my already erected penis. “I only need an hour to get ready for the play, my dear Yori,” she whispered huskily (damn her range is good), “So pray tell, why are you here four hours early, hmm?” I could not see it but I could feel her smirk from behind. The air is now heavy with the fragrance of rose and lilac, it is making me light-headed. Fuck, she caught me red-handed.

Really, I’m ensnared by her like a fly to a venus flytrap.

Father-Daughter Bonding


“Oh daddy, are you awake? Now, now, don’t struggle, you will just be chaffing your wrist against the bond! And don’t bother screaming, I have sent the servants for a day off and mother, well, she’s in a deep sleep. Don’t look at me like that daddy, how could I hurt my own mother?”

“Ah, I see that you have caught my reflection, then I guess I will drop the pretense. You see, my client had sent me to, persuade you to forgo the business expansion into Europe. As you can see, I have your daughter. Or should I say, I am your daughter?”

“However, my client is benevolent. He proposed a postponement of your plans by six months. In return, your daughter, family and most importantly your reputation will be safe. A fair deal, isn’t it?”

“Do not worry about your board of directors, my client has paid a few of my kins to make sure they are in the same boat as you so you would have full support as well,”

“I don’t really like the look of your face, Mr Wang. It seems you don’t understand the position you’re in. Your daughter has a body to die for and I know people who would pay top dollars to have a go with her and a whole lot of people who would appreciate a live session of her getting fucked. Your wife, while not attractive to most, could garner a loyal fanbase of people who have a fetish for old woman. All of these with me in the driver seat and trust me Mr Wang, I am familiar with all kinds of debauchery and I have never failed to please a crowd,”

“You still don’t look convinced. Oh the reflection! Don’t worry,”

“Hah, the look of your face is priceless. It takes time and experience but I can shift my face back to the original at will,”

“Where is your daughter? Silly old man, I am your daughter! Remember her overseas trip? Yeah, I met her there and possessed her, just like that. All those shopping trips and family outings and dinner? Yep, you guessed it. It’s me. You couldn’t have guessed a man is inside lil’ Hui Wen and has perfectly imitated her so fucking well,”

“So do we have an agreement? That’s my good man. Why am I dressed like that? I will come to that right now. You see, daddy, I need additional insurance to your co-operation and I am fucking horny right now. You see this video camera here? Yes, I think I know what you’re thinking. I wonder how would the Chinese public react if they see one of their top CEO is actually fucking his own daughter?”

“Don’t deny it. I know of your fetish. If not for it, I would have hopped your mistress instead for this. Aha, my daddy is rather naughty isn’t he? Come on now, let’s know each other more.”

One Night Stand


The couch’s leather creaked as the couples on it embroiled themselves in lust and love. The woman beneath moaned but she spoke no words as her tone conveyed her message well and clear: ‘fuck me harder’. The men under her reciprocate in kind to her desire by thrusting his cock harder into her glistening snatch.

The moans became hotter and lustful as the intensity of their intercourse reached to a feverish pitch. The men beneath squeezed his girlfriend’s soft bottom tighter as he felt himself nearing to the climax. The woman sensing the stiffness of his partner’s cock, rode harder and relished the hotness of his shaft sliding in and out like a piston, lubricated by her love juice. Squeezing her vagina muscles to get more of what she desired, she whispered huskily into her ears of her loved one to let it all out into her. The man heard it and complied to her wanton desires, ejaculating his hot semen into her hungry snatch with a grunt. Receiving it, the woman cooed sensually and nibbled his ears with a blissful smile before setting her head on his chest as she let the man catch his breath.

“Oh Ida,” the man wheezed, “that was probably the greatest one we had, why-”

“Kevin, shh,” Ida hushed him with his finger, “No question,”

Kevin shut his mouth. He didn’t knew what had gone into his ex-fiancee who left him penniless after their divorce. One doesn't see that happening often outside of drama serials but here he was, rekindling old fire with his former love. ‘Maybe it was pity sex,’ he thought dejectedly, his mind going through the scene of his doctor telling him that his cancer was terminal. But other than his best friend, how would she had known? ‘I will need to confront that bastard, this is getting awkward,’ he mentally regretted it as he recovered from the post-coitus mood.

Ida felt her vagina still aching. Obviously still not satisfied with current session, Ida inwardly cursed herself, she wanted to be a good partner for his ex-fiance and being slutty right now would be spoiling the mood. However, she would not be a bodyhopper if she had not mastered the arts of sex and arousing a male for another go was one of the earliest tricks she had to learn.

Ida or rather Doran, Kevin’s accursed best friend, was a bodyhopper for more than a decade already, in between his hopping, he still . When he had learnt of Kevin’s situation, he went to Ida to deliver the news, hoping that Ida would at least accompany or visit a dying man but when Doran heard her cold rejection, he moved onto his backup plan.

Now in her body, his innate nature of being a bodyhopper, his unusually high libido, is becoming a liability to the romantic mood he had set up for Ida and Kevin. Slowly moving down to his waist, he, in Ida’s body, took Kevin’s cock and licked his shaft slowly, savouring the taste of Ida’s love juice mixed with Kevin’s semen while teasing Ida’s clit. The moans and feeling of getting licked snapped Kevin out of his thoughts as he felt his libido rising again. The night had just began and Doran would make this his greatest night of his best friend’s remaining days.