Friday, August 7, 2020

Ticketed: Part 1

Happy Friday, everyone! Here's some of the new captions I've written (inspired by Alyssa's recent series on the Making Maidens blog, as previously mentioned); the rest are posted on the Patreon for members to peruse. I've got more ideas to continue beyond that point, as this is the sort of continually escalating humiliation that really gets my muse running.

Since it would be nearly impossible to find suitable real pictures to fit my story thus far, I've been making rendered images to fit the text as best I can (unfortunately, a few things I've written I still can't add to renders yet, but I'll try my best to match the text).

So these caps will be posted as I finish the images. Due to the size of the renders and the length of the text, I'm just going to post the pictures and text separately, rather than re-editing everything down to fit, like a proper captioned image.

I was going to title this series 'Publicititty Stunts', but 'Ticketed' seemed more subtle, so I went with that.

Cause I'm all about being subtle.

- B-Rex

* * * * *

Hugh Jazz Mofo.

It was the kind of stupid name you'd expect from a pornstar, or maybe a character in some weird Bond movie parody. But definitely not a world-renown e-celebrity with two million subscribers on each of a dozen social media sites. He was one of the most famous people of his generation, though lately his gaming livestreams and pop-culture commentary videos had been losing views significantly.

Dropping under two million subscribers had been what prompted his new marketing gimmick. It had started out as a typical publicity stunt but with an edge; fans were encouraged to buy memorabilia from his online store and get a very small chance of finding a super rare 'golden ticket' in their new hat or shirt or mug, or whatever cheap crap they bought with his logo on it, anyway.

But rather than some lame prize like meeting him in person, the winner of each golden ticket got to change some personal aspect of his brand image. The marketing team had come up with a score of weird ideas and categories and he'd signed off on the whole venture without much thought. After all, they were the experts, and he would rather be playing the newest first-person-shooter than reading complicated marketing contracts anyway.

He'd been a bit taken aback when the first winner had gotten the 'Name Change' ticket, and promptly picked “Hugh Jazz Mofo” as his new name. He'd been even more shocked when the marketing people explained that the name change wasn't just his brand name or his account names, but was meant to be a legal change of identity.

Now Hugh Jazz Mofo was plastered across all of his merch, and his driver's license to boot.

Still, he was selling a ton of merch, and his views and subs had skyrocketed, so he couldn't exactly complain that the marketing gimmick wasn't effective.

The next ticket had been to choose his new tattoo, and he'd been fine with that; at least, he had been, until he crawled off the table and got to see his new trampstamp after the tattoo session had finally ended.

It wasn't until the marketing team informed him that due to the disclaimer on his contest rules he couldn't schedule a laser tattoo removal procedure that he realized the publicity stunt had been a bad idea after all.

“But... Every Hole's A Goal!!!?!!!” He gasped, pointing unnecessarily at the massive tattoo sprawled across the small of his back, flanked by two massive curved arrows that pointed straight to his ass. “I am not keeping this!”

“You have to, Jame—er, Jazz, the rules on the contest specifically state that all changes are permanent, unless changed by another winner. Until someone else finds another Pick-My-Ink ticket and decides to spend it on a different trampstamp design, you are stuck with that.”

“But it's fucking gay--” he started, before years of well-honed publicity skills stopped him from finishing. You never knew when someone was sneakily filming you, and he could not afford another round of cancel culture types trying to destroy his brand for saying something politically incorrect. The last time he'd made a gay joke on a livestream, he'd had to pretend to date a real gay dude for a few months until it all blew over, and he still had nightmares of that humiliating experience.

“--fucking generic as shit,” he amended, mentally congratulating himself on the quick save. “It's just words and solid black and shit. It's boring.”

“And unless you want to get your ass sued off, you're keeping it,” replied Gemma, his main marketing consultant and the wizard behind both the new ticket gimmick and his fake-gay boyfriend rumor-thing last year. She'd made a specialty of saving his ass.

“Fine, but someone had better use their next tattoo ticket to at least add some color to this thing, or something,” he said, staring into the ever-present cameras recording his every waking moment.

* * * * *

Friday, July 31, 2020

Slam Her

Happy Friday, everybody! And finally a second caption in one week!! 

I really should do more captions with this sort of theme, I think.

Anyway, a bit more news real quick; the captcha thing didn't seem to work, not entirely anyway, so for the time being I am not allowing anonymous accounts to leave messages. I'll switch things back in a few weeks, and see if the spam has stopped by then.

- B-Rex

Edit: I forgot to mention, I was inspired by Alyssa's recent "An Insta Story" series, and actually wrote a series of captions of my own along a similar theme of publicity stunts run amok, with a feminization direction. Fitting since I'm apparently the 'influencer' character who kicked off Alyssa's series.

I wanted to wait for Alyssa's series to end before I posted mine, to avoid stepping on any toes, and then promptly forgot all about what I'd wrote. Plus I never found suitable pictures to go with the text.

Now that Alyssa's series is finished, I think I'm going to post the text on Patreon and then when I've finished some Daz renders for it, I'll post it here as a properly illustrated series.

Hope that's of interest to you all.

Tuesday, July 28, 2020

New Comment Policy

Hello all. The blog has been getting hammered with spam comments the last few weeks, and I'm getting very tired of moderating each new comment, just in case it's a real one that got caught in the filter. Apparently merely assigning 150+ comments as "SPAM" isn't enough for blogger to take the hint and filter the bot out automatically.

So for the time being I'm re-instating the Captcha Turing test to try and weed out the bot accounts. I know this makes commenting even more annoying, and I don't want to get fewer real comments as I find them very helpful and often inspiring (Meisa's recent feedback on 'Bet Her Not 2', for example, has completely changed my plans for part 3, which is coming as soon as I can find a suitable image or make one in Daz).

But the constant spam is getting very annoying. I've deleted 5 new posts just in the last hour, a few of which actually went out on the blog and missed the filter entirely.

Anyway, in the interests of posting some actual content, here's a weird little bit of text that I wrote back in March that I never really finished, and I never posted as a caption because I couldn't think of a snappy punchline ending like I usually go for.

The basic idea was that a tough as nails army chick got on the wrong end of an enemy RPG and suddenly finds herself stuck as a stay-at-home wife, and her husband is growing more and more kinky as he gets used to her amputated form; her helplessness after a lifetime of being the tough chick is a big turn on for him. Though that story synopsis is more detailed than the text I wrote, which never really gets into the setup.

You can't really expect me to cook for them? I barely know how to boil an egg, for fuck's sake!”

Practice makes perfect, dear.”

She looked at the floor, judging the distance. With her damaged, reduced legs, she had to be careful, another break might lead to all sorts of medical issues. But she though she could safely lower herself to the tiled floor, her upper body strength had diminished somewhat from her lengthy recovery, but she was still very strong for a woman. And she weighed a lot less these days.

But he seemed to know what she was thinking. Before she could protest, he reached for a jar on the counter, and began pouring rice on the kitchen floor all around the island.

Oh, you... you cruel bastard,” she hissed, glaring at him. He just smirked, and headed out the door.

The rice was small, but it might as well be glass shards. She'd crawled over some spilled salt a few days before, it hurt like hell. The rice grains would no doubt hurt even more.

Dammit, Jerry, I can't spend all day on the island!!” she yelled, as she heard his car start.

She sighed, as her lover's vehicle pulled out of the garage, and down the driveway. Turning her mutilated body around, she crawled the length of the table, hoping to find a spot where the rice hadn't covered. But her hopes were in vain.

The television was on, playing some obnoxious day-time talk show with a bunch of charlatan doctors shouting over their guest, and spouting outdated nutritional advice. She lasted all of two minutes, before she started frantically looking for the remote, only to be disappointed again when she found it, sitting on the kitchen counter, just out of arm's reach.

Ugh!” she roared, trying to cover her ears as the television prattled on. Unfortunately, her shortened legs made it hard to keep her balance without at least one hand to support her, and she quickly gave up trying to shut out the obnoxious voices. “Gawd, I'm going to go mad if I have to sit here all day watching this trash!”

She looked at the bowl her husband had left on the island, and sighed. There was nothing to do but to try and distract herself by cooking up a meal. The island's shelves were mostly in reach, and filled with utensils and racks of spices.

The fridge was too far away, but Jerry had left out several ingredients for her, and a quick search of the island's shelves uncovered a small electric stove top. It wasn't much, but it should be enough for her to work with.

Sighing yet again, she set herself to work, and wondering how late her boyfriend's kids would sleep in today. “Stupid school, stupid virus,” she muttered, wanting to strangle the city council for ordering the school closures the day before. She'd be stuck playing house for weeks until things re-opened, and the children were finally out of her hair.

- B-Rex

Thursday, July 23, 2020

Kat's Kitties

Hello all, seems I'm in a transgender mood at the moment. I actually wrote this caption several days ago, and I think I posted the full-size morph a few weeks back.

But I'm not really entirely happy with the setup, which is why I held it back a few days. I'm certain my original idea was better, but I just can't seem to find it anywhere in my notes. So I'm just going to post this, and if I finally remember my old idea, I'll make a new caption to this image. Hopefully no one will be too bothered.

This was sort of going to be the morph/image for a follow-up caption, but obviously this cap went a totally different direction than my old plans. Still, for those who like my faked tattoo morphs:

Also, I've been working in Daz some more, trying to figure out the Face Transfer feature. The idea is that you let the program try to replicate a face from a picture, and put that on your model. Seems to work surprisingly well, if you can find a suitable picture to work from.

This is render is meant to be Taylor Wane, who appears in many of my old Tessa's Nightmare captions.

The initial real-life picture.

And the face-transfer render. Came out pretty well, I think.

Sadly, my plans to create a cadre of pornstar models I can arrange as I want hasn't really worked out just yet. I need to find the right images to work off of, I guess. But I'm still hopeful.

Unfortunately, pornstars seem to refuse to look straight on at the camera and always have huge eyelashes and their mouths open, which utterly ruins the transfer. Some of the results are down right horror movie material, or they look decent, until I try to render them, then they don't look right at all.

Anyway, I've got another caption written, based on a superheroine idea I've had for ages and finally started working on this week. However, it's the first of a series, and I can't decide if I should just post it or wait and post the whole series together. And I'm still trying to decide if I should make renders for the rest of the images or use real models (it's hard to find superhero pics that fit my ideas). I've got two nice images to start out with, but finding a suitable picture for the rest will be tricky.

Finally, I started working on some Daz renders for fun a few weeks back, sort of inspired by the old 'Our Story Thus Far' comic one-offs by Mr. X. Basically these would be "Bad Endings" for various characters, their fates after a mission gone wrong.

These renders of Laura Krauff's bad end got ruined by the power going out and I lost the scene except for these two partially finished renders. The full one I was working on was a redo of the second image but with rope bondage and a whole crowd of snobbily-dressed gawkers pointing and laughing at the tomb robber as they sipped their drinks.

I'm still a bit annoyed the power cut out.

I've got a fair few other bad endings finished for Black Widow, themed around the secret agent being sent to capture the Midnight Surgeon, and things not ending well for her. I'll post those on the Patreon shortly, for those of you who are members there.

I sadly don't really have any captions written for any of these, though, they're more just me practicing techniques. But hopefully they'll inspire some of you.

- B-Rex

Thursday, July 16, 2020

Bet Her Not 2

Well, the last post went over well with folks, so here's a continuance. I really hadn't planned for further adventures of Miss Wiffeneye, but I think this little chapter came out quite well.

Thanks to all who left comments on the last post. I appreciate the effort, and enjoy reading what you all think. Hopefully this sequel goes as well.

- B-Rex

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