Trouper: The Work Continues

This one took quite some time; it's something I've always wanted to try. The attempt to feel what it feels like, undergoing the transformation. I must apologise if it's too boring.

Transcript:

Today’s a sunday but my work never ends.

I put on my padded girdle, carefully sliding it up my freshly shaved legs, stretching it and squirming my body to get the tight garment up to its position. Next, the flesh-toned training corset. Putting it over me and adjusting it to my abdomen, I took a deep breath and laced it, pulling and tightening its string; constricting my figure that is every bit like a woman. Next, I try on the C-cup breast form. Using a silicone adhesive, I carefully applied it to the fake assets and slowly attach it to my chest, making sure that they are at the correct position.

Now, comes the bodysuit I crafted specially for this; picking up a garment that looks like a deflated headless body, I bunch it up and fold it like hosiery and slip into it, legs first from the top and proceed to wear it. Tight but elastic, I carefully fold and stretch it from my legs and over my newly attached breast forms while, fitting them into the breast pouch that I have created. Fitting them in, the arms are next, turning them into lithe feminine arms. In the mirror I see, stands a freak of nature with a head of a bald man and the supple body of a women; her skin fair, her nails manicured, her breast ample and her crotch flat, leaving no trace of masculinity that was before.

But soon this freak of nature will soon disappear as I approach the make-up table. On it are the tools of a magician, a wig stand, make-up kits, contacts and most importantly, the human mask worn over a head cast. Next, I open one of the many contact boxes on the table, take out a pair of olive green contacts and wear, one more aspect of me gone. I pick up the mask and wear it, covering what the bodysuit couldn’t cover, the neck and the collar area. Smoothing it and aligning the mask to my face, the man disappears and a bald woman stands in his place; her face brimming with the youth of a young adult, her eyes sharp and her lips full. I smile, being glad that the fourteen hours of effort had not been wasted, and in return, the woman smiles as well.

Lastly, comes the blonde wig. Wearing it over my head, I press the scalp line against my forehead and pull it down, fastening the wig. There, the transformation is complete. The Trouper is no more and in his place, Lyla White, age 22, graduate of an art college and amatuer actor,  is born.

Now, a lady isn’t expected to prance in her home naked so I walk over to my wardrobe, taking care to put into practice the walk I have developed for my character; a slight sway of the hip and a certain ‘bounce’ and haste in her gait; characteristic of a cheerful and spirited girl who just graduated into working society. Wearing a blue sweater dress, a pink thong (she’s a kinky one, after all) and matching socks, I started the video camera and prepared myself in front of it.

“Hi, I’m Lyla White, an amatuer actor and I hope...”

And another successful character created for the sake of theatrics and drama. The work never ends and most importantly, it never gets stale.

A Friend in Need, is a Friend in Deed.

And another one. I really like the sentiments behind this. I think the idea behind this comes from a masking fiction I've read, Weaver's Tales, I think.

Transcript:

Oh crap, what I have gotten myself into?

I pace around the living room frantically. It’s taking too long already, why hasn’t he come out? It’s like I’m waiting for a women to powder her nose.

Women? Wait, wait, wait, he’s not a women. He’s a he! Not a women. Don’t think too much about it, Jason. Cool down. All you need to do, is to help him come in terms with himself, like a good friend. Yeah, that’s it.

“Jason?” Comes a breathy feminine voice, “I-I’m ready.”

I gulp,  turn, look and instantly regret my decision to turn for standing in front of me is not my good friend, Lucian but a woman who call herself Catherine. “So, how do I look?”

Black,shimmering dresses, paired with black sheer hosiery and black pumps, my friend flashes a smile as if she- he’s posing. Blonde hair, and blue eyed contacts, very different from the first time I saw him in drags. His figure, damn, how did he mask it? Was it the black? Or did he wear something to give him those breasts and hip?

Fuck. It’s happening again. When Lucian showed me his alter ego, I was blown away at how convincing he looked; the make-up, those kissable lips and the cute nose. I’ve always known Lucien is small and boyish looking but this, this is too much. And now, just like before, I couldn’t take my eyes of her, I mean, him. God damn it.

“Jason, hello?” the breathy voice again. How the hell did he do it? The voice? He must have been training for hours. Probably days. Maybe even months? Years? Fuck, I don’t know. Hell, I don’t even want to know.

“Jason, are you alright?” She, he took a step closer. I can even smell the perfume, very feminine, very nice. My goodness, it’s getting harder to think of her as a him. Wild thoughts came into my mind, what is she like under that dress? Is he wearing tights, stockings with garter belts, what about lingerie? Is he wearing that too under it? How sexy is it?

“I’m alright, Lucien. God help me, you never fail to freak me out,”

Lucien took a step back, head sunken and shoulders withdrawn. Ah, shit. “I mean, you never fail to amaze me, Lucien,”

“Catherine. Please call me Catherine.”

Oh, I give up. Just go with the flow, Jason. 10 years of friendship is not worth breaking over something like this.

“Fine then, Catherine. Or should I say, Cathy?”

Upon hearing this, Catherine lightens up and flashes an innocent smile (Even the dentures are different), she looks like a normal girl who’s dressed up for a date. Now that I’ve seen her like this, there’s no way I could refuse her request her first time night’s out, right?

“Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.” Putting my hands over her shoulder, I sighed mentally. Whatever it is, Catherine is Lucien, Lucien’s a good friend, therefore, Catherine is a good friend and I can’t ignore a good friend’s bidding.

Medallion of Zulo: Two Stories

Despite being a fan of transformation, I never really tried the Medallion of Zulo setting until I read Loki's Captions. So I figure I will give it a test and it's surprisingly fun.

Wilder Antics

First Time

Transcript for Wilder Antics:

“Come on, suck it already,”

“Oh jeez, aren’t you impatient?” Norene frowned as she cupped her hands around the stranger’s balls, teasing it.

“Sorry, I’m afraid the housekeepers will come in anytime soon,”

“Don’t worry, I’m Mrs Britton now, remember? This is my house. Besides, the housekeeper today is a male, I’m sure he would want to have a cut of action, hmm?”

“Shit, we’re really perverts aren’t we? ”

James smiled internally; ever since he stumbled upon the Medallion of Zulu and discovered its ability, James is having so much transforming himself into other people, especially members of the opposite sex. When he got bored of masturbating in his new found women body, he decided to confide his secrets to his best friend, Taylor, and made him into a regular sex partner; with each passing day, their antics grew bolder and their sex, wilder.

Today, they decided to break into the house of Mr and Mrs Britton, the couple of whom Taylor had taken interest into, especially, Mrs Norene Britton. Raiding her wardrobe, James took out a pair of silky black stockings and heels and rub the Medallion with it. Within moments of wearing the set, James felt the transformation; his body grew smaller, his hair grew longer and blonde, he felt his hip buckling and developing, his rump becoming fuller and rounder, his breasts forming from his chest eventually settling into humble cup size of C, his penis shrinking and settling into his body, leaving a moist slit in its absence and he felt his face growing softer and changing that of Norene Britton.

“James, quit teasing me already!”

James snapped out of his flashback. What an impatient man, he thought.

“That is Mrs Britton, young man,” James retorted as he starts to give his heads.

Transcript for First Time:

When I stumbled upon a charity shop yesterday, I found a medallion or sorts on its shelves. Feeling a bit curious, I went on and purchase it.

Investigating and reading the inscription, I realise that it is the Medallion of Zulo and it actually changes your appearance to that of people you wish to be by wearing their clothes.

Being a closet crossdresser, I have always wanted to try to look passable as a women but because of my natural size, I couldn’t but with this, perhaps, I could realise my dream.

Sneaking into my sister’s room, I donned on the pink chiffon dress and felt a shock through my body. I felt my hair growing, golden curls resting on my shrinking shoulder, breasts developing, pushing the elastic garment and creating a deep and pleasing cleavage. My skin grew soft and and tanned, matching the complexion of my sister’s. Once, I felt the transformation completing, I looked into the mirror and to my due surpise, standing there looking equally shocked is my sister!

“Oh shit, it works!” I laughed and immediately covered my mouth for the words coming out was coated in my sister’s honeyed voice.

But what do I do now?

“No worries there,” I thought as I sat on the sofa, admiring my toned legs and cleavage. “I have plenty of time after all.” 

Costume Gun: A Close Shave

You know the period when you start a few caps in the evening and couldn't stop writing until your clock tells that normal human beings are soundly asleep and had probably started their REM sleep?

It's one of those lucky days. I must apologise about the lack of updates; despite being summer, creative drought is an all-time season in my mindscape. But nevertheless, here are some captions.

Transcript:

 “Where’s mommy and what have you done to her?”

“What do you mean, Jimmy?”

“Shut up! You’re not mommy, I saw it. I saw you putting her skin on!”

Jim’s mother stood there, dressed in corsets and stockings, her head cocking onto one side and frowning as if in confusion. Her face, however, cleared into a relief as she bent down and hugged Jimmy as he struggled in her hold.

“Oh Jimmy, were you dreaming again?” She cooed as she stroke his head resisting his struggle to break her hold.

“W-wha?” Jimmy stopped.

“Remember those scary nightmares you thought it was real?”

Jimmy slowly nodded.

“Oh you, do you remember the previous time it happen? You thought there was a monster clawing out of your bed and it took me a long time to calm you down?”

Jimmy sheepishly nodded.

“Now, if I were some stranger wearing mommy’s skin, do you think he would ever know that you wet your bed 2 weeks ago after another bad dream?”

Jimmy’s eyes widened as he blushed; he nodded furiously now.

“There, there, it’s okay. Mommy is here and there’s no bad people wearing your mommy, okay?” Jim’s mother whispered tenderly as she cooed her son to sleep.

After putting her son to bed, Jim’s mother, Diane heaved a sigh of relief, “What a troublesome brat,” Diane growled as she starts to feel up her own body. “I should be careful next time but whatever,” As Diane starts to fondle her own breast, she tried to trace where her original self had done wrong. It was a routine, picked the lock of the door silently, zapped the women with the costume gun, wore her, lived her life, ditched the skin, repeat. “Must have made a noise that the boy had heard; thank goodness for the costume gun, else I would have not remembered that Jimmy boy has night terro-,” Diane moaned, interrupting the stranger’s thought as Diane’s hands pinched her clit.

“Now Diane, until your husband gets home, I should start familiarising with your, I mean, my body,” the stranger grinned as he started to massaged his stolen snatch.