tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40919833694319318502024-03-12T16:16:18.379-07:00Degraded DamselsWhere Arrogant Women are reborn as Humbled HarlotsBerserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.comBlogger585125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-32161683213267661272023-09-15T11:03:00.002-07:002023-09-15T11:03:46.489-07:00News and Midnight Surgeon Excerpt<p>Hello everyone. Sorry for not posting this summer, I got busy with work and fixing up some issues at my house (mostly issues with my well pump) and time got away from me.</p><p>Unfortunately, I don't have very good news. I'm having a bad day and I don't really know what to do.</p><p>Patreon just terminated my account (not just my page, but my entire account, so even the people I was subscribed to are now down a patron) without notice. Four years without so much as a complaint, and suddenly they decided I was "exclusively" promoting sex "violence". They have the worst customer service, it's all form letters sent by a chatbot that won't actually respond to you. I've appealed, but I have no expectation they'll even read it.</p><p>And now on top of that Blogger continues to slowly censor my posts here in the most absurd fashion. The posts they're blocking are some of my tamest captions, notably my old Tinkerbell cosplay captions, that have no nudity or sex. It's very odd, and seems to be getting worse.</p><p>I'm not really sure what I should do. I've been here for over a decade now, I hate to leave the site and I don't know where I could even go anyway. It's probably time to start a proper private site of my own, but I'm not even sure how best to do that or how I'd transfer everything from here to there, if that's even possible.</p><p>I just left a post on Patreon about an hour before it was terminated, in a bad coincidence. Unless they terminated my account because I was reticent about giving them my photo ID for age verification. I'm glad I didn't, now.</p><p>In that last post, I mentioned the possibility of starting a Discord for patrons, but I guess that option is off the table now. Maybe I can shift to updating my Subscribestar page finally, and try it later.</p><p>In the meantime, here's a short Midnight Surgeon excerpt I posted on the Patreon and meant to post here months ago. It's not a completed story, more just a bit of an experiment as I wanted to play with some new body mod ideas I had.</p><p>- B-Rex</p><span></span><p></p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p><br /></p><p style="text-align: center;">Midnight Surgeon Test Draft</p><p style="text-align: center;">2023 by B-Rex</p><p>“And how are my favorite guinea pigs doing this morning?” The Midnight Surgeon quipped, pulling the curtain back with a flourish.</p><p>Megan and Tiffany both screamed back at him, their cries muted by the obscenely massive ball gags ballooning their cheeks. He smiled under his surgical mask, and ran his hands lovingly down their faces, feeling the rock-hard rubber balls through the skin.</p><p>Both college coeds struggled against their bonds, but six weeks of laying in the hospital beds and fighting against the thick bands and arm cuffs had long since taught them the effort was futile.</p><p>He turned his attention to their naked breasts, lifting each and letting them fall heavily back in place, taking notes aloud into a small tape recorder. “Seems like Subject One's implants are settling in nicely; the keyhole technique worked well, there's almost no visible scarring left. The subdermal webbing implant is doing a great job supporting the implants and surrounding adipose tissue, all weight is transferred directly to the shoulders and upper ribcage as expected.” He lifted and dropped Megan's volleyball sized breasts again and again, chuckling to himself as she silently raged through her gag. He glanced at her, and explained, “I've placed a thick mesh under each implant, and anchored it back to your ribs for support. Sadly, not my invention, but I have greatly improved on the original design. Ordinarily the anchors are rigid, but mine are made of a very flexible synthetic plastic, which can stretch and spring back.”</p><p>He suddenly tugged one of her round, unnaturally firm breasts down, pinching the nipple. She mewled behind the solid red ball in her mouth, her lips unable to pull closed around it, despite the strings running from her four lip piercings, pulling the massive lips around the ball so snugly nothing but frothing bubbles could escape.</p><p>Just as suddenly he released the orb, and it bounced up violently. If she hadn't been so tightly bound in place, it might have smashed into her face, instead of merely flopping repeatedly into the open air. “Wonderful effect, isn't it? They'll never sag, not one inch, even with a thousand CCs of silicone weighing them down. And that rebound, splendid!” He tugged on the massive boobs again, releasing each slightly off time, so that they bounced around, smacking into each other after a few bobs, and finally sloshing to a stop.</p><p>Smirking visibly even through his mask, he moved up her body and back to her face, stopping to check out the large hole in her throat. A thin line of surgical tubing stuck out of the esophagus, a combination of feeding and breathing tube. He stuck his gloved finger over the end, and the bubbles of rage behind her lips instantly blew up tenfold. Forced to breath entirely through her nose now, she screamed at him and was nearly able to make an actual sound. Laughing, he released the tube, and her cries of anger died down to a soft sucking sound of air pulling in and out of the small diameter hose.</p><p>He ran his hands over her face, gingerly examining her lips, massively enlarged by dozens of careful injections of filler until they were fleshing cylinders wrapped in a bloated ring around her gag. He idly wondered aloud if she'd even be able to talk without the gag, her lips would surely never fully close again, and after six weeks, her jaw might well be fused fully open. She glared at him, struggling to make even some sound heard as she fumed at his words, but all she managed was to flare out her lips slightly against the ball, emitting some froth.</p><p>“Subject One's ears have finished healing and might be ready for some additional work,” he noted, tugging at her ears one by one. Each had been cut at the top, a small notch of tissue removed, and then the gap pulled together and sewn closed. Now healed, each ear had a distinctly pointed shape. “Maybe a few piercings along this rim here, huh? I might do that later today. They'll go nicely with the nipple rings I picked out for you.”</p><p>She glared at him, but he had already moved on, now running his along the sides of her face. He traced the outsides of her eyes and brow ridge, and begin speaking into his recorder again.</p><p>“Four weeks since surgery, and Subject One's ocular work has fully healed. Socket breaking and resetting has mended, enlarging overall width substantially.” He poked at one of her eyes gingerly, as she blinked desperately. “The silicone implant under her right eye has not dislodged, and is successfully pushing the eye up and out. Likewise for the left eye.”</p><p>The Midnight Surgeon shone a small penlight into each of her eyes, making more observations into his recorder as she tried to turn her head away from the bright light.</p><p>“Synthetic eye lashes are all still here, that's good. Subdermal anchors seem to be working as expected,” he began, plucking none-to-gingerly at some of the massive lashes that opened like butterfly wings from each lid and. Despite the painful pulling, the plastic lashes stayed in place, deeply embedded into the skin by their thick bases. She frantically blinked back tears as he finally released her new lashes.</p><p>He ignored her reaction, and pointed the penlight directly into her eyes, peering closely in and squinting, his face filling her vision.</p><p>“And let's see... yes, the interocular lenses have seated themselves as expected, neither appear to have moved out of alignment. Lenses are significantly oversized,” he paused and looked down at Megan, who could only blink back, “As one would expect, seeing as they were originally made for horses. My, what big eyes you have, dear!”</p><p>He laughed at his bad joke, as he blinded her with the penlight once again. “Of course, as these lenses have a fixed focal length, Subject One has been getting used to being only able to focus on objects close to her face. Tell me Megan, are you enjoying your new view of the world?”</p><p>She impotently blew bubbles at him, as he chuckled, finally pulling back from her face. Instantly her vision returned to normal, a see of blurry shapes in the distance. Even her own feet were nothing but blobs. But overlaying it all was something else, something she couldn't help but see every time she opened her eyes.</p><p>He'd actually explained how the lenses worked before implanting them, as the eye surgery hadn't required her to be put under. Each lens had been laser etched with a pattern, and with both patterns in place just right, they'd line up, turning into a holographic image that seemed to exist out some distance from her.</p><p>Seemingly encircling her, and always at the edge of her peripheral vision, was a ring of giant, thickly veined cocks, all pointing towards her face. They bobbed out, appearing to be mere feet from her, but as her eyes moved, so did they, and she could never look directly at them. Knowing they were an illusion didn't help the constant sense of anxiety she got, seeing a dozen cocks ready to bukkake her face every time she opened her eyes. They were impossible to ignore, as was the giant spray of jizz shooting from them, appearing to hover just before her, defying gravity. She hated it nearly as much as every other change he'd done to her body.</p><p>The Midnight Surgeon finished his note taking, and at last fully turned his attentions to Tiffany, who could only blow bubbles of rage from behind her own massive gag.</p><p>Much like Megan, Tiffany's mouth looked like an orange had become lodged behind her lips, held in place by a series of lips piercings and small wires. Ignoring her own massively inflated breasts, he pulled two thick-walled PVC pipes out of her nose, eliciting a nearly audible wail from the girl despite the brightly colored ball gag.</p><p>“Let's see; left nostril is... eighteen millimeters horizontally, and... twelve millimeters wide vertically,” the Midnight Surgeon stated into his tape recorder, holding a small ruler up to her face. He repeated the measurements for her right nostril, as she seethed in pain and idle rage, nostrils flaring. He finished, and lifted two more PVC pipes from a tray on the table next to the bed. “Well, I'm pleasantly surprised at how well your nose is adapting. I think it's time we go up to the next size, my dear. A few more months, and you'll have a real snout there, ha!”</p><p>She struggled to move her head aside, but her bonds had almost no give to them, and soon she found herself snorting through two new inch-long pipes, her nostrils straining painfully tight around them.</p><p>Both girls fought against their bondage as he pulled more instruments from the table tray, and began to work on first Tiffany's and then Megan's lips, injecting another few CCs of yellowish fluid into both their upper and lower lips, causing the already tightly swollen flesh to swell even farther.</p><p>As always, he made sure to hold up a hand mirror before each of them, so they could see their newly enhanced faces after he finished the latest session of injections, eliciting more tears and incoherent pleas.</p><p>While both had received many injections and some similar modifications, both girls had nonetheless significant differences to their appearances.</p><p>Megan's face was dominated by her eyes, each appearing massively over-sized, like some cartoon girl from an anime.</p><p>Her pupils were permanently engorged, filling her eyes and coupled with her thick, artificial eye lashes, gave her a perpetual desperate pleading look, like some puppy dog begging for attention. Her tattooed on eyebrows, comically arched, only added to the appearance.</p><p>Her pointed ears finished everything off, poking out through her short bleached blonde hair. For all the world she looked like some sort of buxom fairy creature, with a bondage fetish.</p><p>Tiffany had the worst of it, though, as the Midnight Surgeon had focused his efforts heavily on ruining her beauty queen good looks. Now her face was a far more monstrous countenance that brought a wail to her bloated lips.</p><p>Like Megan's new eyes, Tiffany's nose dominated her face. The surgeon had enlarged the tip into a bulbous plum-sized ball of flesh, before breaking and resetting her septum to flatten and bend the nose sharply upwards. His on-going work to permanently widen her nostrils to inhuman proportions had given her a distinctly porcine appearance.</p><p>He'd left her auburn hair free to grow, but had mangled her ears, breaking and bending the cartilage in numerous places until they each took on the cauliflower look of a professional boxer. Like Megan's ears, he'd pointed her, but they were more sharply pointed, and so long they drooped over at the tips, adding to her pig-like visage.</p><p>But the worst was the tattoo; where Megan had only tattooed on pink lipstick and thin eyebrows, Tiffany's tattooing ran across her entire face, even up under the hairline as far as she could see, and down her neck towards her heaving breasts. The surgeon had spent many long days just working on her flesh, carefully tattooing her body a solid, deep green color. Her lips were a lighter green, matching her naturally emerald green eyes, and seemed to stick out from her otherwise deep green face.</p><p>Coupled with her naturally reddish hair, and transformed nose and ears, and she was well on her way to becoming some sort of hideous goblin creature to match Megan's fairy-like self.</p><p>After letting the two former college coeds take in their faces yet again, he returned the mirror to the bedside table and smiled down at them, wrinkling his surgical mask.</p><p>“Alright girls, I've got good news; today's the big day! It's time to take off those casts!”</p><p>He began pulling out more gear from the table, including some sort of electric saw. Both girls struggled in fear in their bonds, as he tested the spinning blade out.</p><p>He went to Megan first. Wrapped around her hips was a massive cast, two long tubes sticking out from the layers of plaster. “Don't be frightened, dear, this is good news indeed. We can finally take out that nasty catheter and enema hose. Besides, I'm sure you're both dying to see my latest handiwork.”</p><p>As with Megan, an identical cast was wrapped around Tiffany's hips. Both girls had awoken in bed six weeks earlier, with the casts already in place, and a strange numbness spreading through their lower bodies. The surgeon had delighted in telling them about their facial work as he worked on them, sparing none of the details.</p><p>But he had never even hinted at what the casts were for. The buzzing saw made short work of Megan's cast and he worked to pull the separated pieces from her one at a time, cutting off the catheter and tugging it out of her body without warning, making her body jump and sending her volleyball breasts sloshing violently around. Her head was too tightly bound for her to look down and see her newly revealed groin, but already something felt eerily wrong.</p><p>He repeated the cast removal on Tiffany, who likewise couldn't turn her head enough to see her groin.</p><p>Laughing at his unveiled work, he unlocked Tiffany's bed wheels, and spun the bed around, until she faced Megan, getting her first clear look at her friend in over a month. Both girls instinctively glanced down at the other's groin, and then screamed, for once able to get past both their breathing tubes and ball gags.</p><p>“They are magnificent, aren't they?” the Midnight Surgeon said, delightedly. “I really wasn't sure if it would work, but the results really do speak for themselves.”</p><p>Megan could only wail, just able to see what lay between her friend's legs, and knew her own groin had an identical modification waiting for her.</p><p>“I had to build a basic skeleton structure out of cartilage, for the tissue to attach itself to. Thank God for Three-D printers,” he chuckled, picking up a long handled brush from the table of surgical gear. He began gently running the brush down Megan's inner thigh, making her wail again, as something stirred to life for the first time in her life. “Most of the tissue came from your thighs and love handles. I needed a fair bit of adipose tissue to get this sort of girth. And I took out some veins and arteries from your legs, they're long since healed back of course.”</p><p>Megan's eyes strained to look down, as something began to rise up, gently bobbing just at the edge of her vision, filling a gap in the ring of cocks encircling her. She wailed as it grew closer, and closer, finally coming close enough to come into full focus.</p><p>“I based the shape after a horse cock, obviously,” the surgeon was continuing to explain something about nerve connections and tissue contouring, as Megan stared in horror at the two-foot long, rapidly hardening cock now filling her vision.</p><p>“Of course,” he said at last, running the brush up and down her shockingly sensitive new addition, “I had to do something with all that vaginal fluid you sluts continuously produce. Since you don't naturally have a prostate, I had to build one. Each of your testicles is actually an expandable breast implant, designed to hold and store all that lubricant your bodies make. I added a small implant just inside the PC muscle itself that fills with air through this one-way valve here--”</p><p>She felt him poke her somewhere near her asshole, and gurgled around her gag, as the sensations of the brush became too much for her. Six weeks with zero stimulation and whatever the bastard had done to her ruined sex had made her more sensitive than she'd ever been. With another actually audible scream, she felt her body seize up, jerking against her bonds, as her now rock-hard cock bent upwards at her own face, just pushing past her giant tits.</p><p>A second after the orgasm hit her, the implant in her PC muscle was squeezed flat as the muscle constricted, and drown a liter of air into her fake testicles, displacing the fluid stored within.</p><p>A second later, her cocks pulsed violently, disgorging a geyser of thickened pussy juice into her face, as her orgasm hit again, and then again, each time allowing the implant to refill with air before blasting it into her fake balls and sending more fluid flying at her face.</p><p>Megan wailed as the multiple orgasm wave finally crested, and she fell back against the bed, for once unable to strain against her bonds. Her body was weak, and the stink of old pussy juice was overwhelming.</p><p>“Of course,” the surgeon continued, as if he hadn't noticed her sudden outburst. “I can also refill those fake balls with any suitable fluid I want through the other two valves under your new scrotum. Like the pint of bull semen you just sprayed on yourself.”</p><p>Megan's eyes snapped back open, as the sticky slime of her ejaculation ran down her face, mingling on her bloated lips.</p><p>“Now,” he said, turning around, and holding up his brush. “Let's get a demonstration from Tiffany the Troll here.”</p><p>Tiffany screamed as he began to gently provoke her own erection, lovingly describing exactly what creatures he'd based her cock on.</p><p style="text-align: center;">*****</p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-61778099839387087752023-05-13T07:48:00.001-07:002023-05-13T07:48:19.175-07:00Suzz-E<p>Hello everyone, sorry I disappeared again for so long. It was never my intention to be gone, real life has just been keeping me very busy these past year or so. My health issues have persisted, and a lot of other things have basically distracted me from writing for way too long.</p><p>I'd like to say I'm back again, but I really don't know how active I can be. A lot of stuff keeps coming up seemingly every week. Ironically, I'm sick with some sort of stomach flu at the moment, and that's opened up some spare time so I can finally post something.</p><p>I've been working on captions off and on since my last post, but most of them just never really clicked for me. Maybe I'm too much of a perfectionist for my own good? Anyway, I finished this ages ago and couldn't find a suitable picture. I finally just added to one of my old morphs. Hopefully you all enjoy it anyway, it's a fun premise I've played with before.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgDTUFStVC1MEpeUPR538MhcoCv3PadlsVMTMwNTkEIkdjMWL-9UFd-AWejkhvzrSw4Uc2siIls9v7J1cTC8NkjMh3vLXLUKlivZq5d2G2YKJL81kB8LEPPhIC44TQoKRDXd9TWraA6MNkQrwnyNPMD8Thb98DSDcGhrIfj363F9nJs17F9l-nxkp/s1784/SexSlutSuzzE_cap1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1156" data-original-width="1784" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwgDTUFStVC1MEpeUPR538MhcoCv3PadlsVMTMwNTkEIkdjMWL-9UFd-AWejkhvzrSw4Uc2siIls9v7J1cTC8NkjMh3vLXLUKlivZq5d2G2YKJL81kB8LEPPhIC44TQoKRDXd9TWraA6MNkQrwnyNPMD8Thb98DSDcGhrIfj363F9nJs17F9l-nxkp/w640-h414/SexSlutSuzzE_cap1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>Also, I've been working on some Midnight Surgeon-related story lately, and making decent progress for once.</p><p>And besides the story, I've got a sort of stream-of-consciousness yarn I wrote last week exploring some body modification ideas, also involving the Midnight Surgeon. It's about 2500 words long, roughly five pages typed. </p><p>I'm going to post that on the <a href="https://www.patreon.com/DegradedDamsels">Patreon</a>, since I haven't updated it in a year now. And some notes on my actual story.</p><p>But I'll post it here too in a few days, so don't go and join the <a href="https://www.patreon.com/DegradedDamsels">Patreon</a> just to see it unless you want to get it earlier.</p><p>Thanks for being patient with me, everyone, I wish I could have more stuff to post for you all. Hopefully I can get more of this writing finished, or get some more of my half-finished captions worked out. Either way, thanks for sticking around all this time.</p><p>I might be leaving blogger sometime soon, as well. I keep getting notices from blogger that they're locking down some posts for being too adult -whatever that means- and I might finally need to branch out to a site I actually own myself. I'll need to learn more about Wordpress first, though.</p><p>- B-Rex</p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-18508216240241692332022-08-04T11:02:00.004-07:002022-08-05T11:09:06.607-07:00Worlds Apart - Hiatus Over Finally!<p>Greetings all! I'm finally back with a new caption, after half a year. So sorry for this long hiatus, I never expected to be gone so long. I should've posted something way before now, I just didn't want to post without a new caption or story, and I haven't been able to write in ages now.</p><p>My health issues have been one and off again, my kidney infections keep coming back as soon as I run out of antibiotics, and I've had some other real-life issues these past few months (I just rebuilt a roof for my parents' house during June and July, still have a bit left on that project) that have also been massive distractions. I've barely been online this whole year now.</p><p>But enough of my excuses, here's the new caption, a weird little sci-fi idea I had ages ago during a rewatch of some old tv shows (Sliders and Stargate, specifically):</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9c9727Qa5kV8W5oWAAV2PF67YR98Cr_uIntrDC4JhshqSnprMZc67WfUz5xf9rSwKRjplKGyG96XITcktYOdXDjLJhFfLm5LBCsrln1Ihsp5vvjCDLmivBNFUXkW3lx6iO0r0oIK-q4BWV0-df1Duqi_5YjseGthYQY4lx1qQC78E_mX56X4WcW0A/s2338/WorldsApart_Cap1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="2338" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9c9727Qa5kV8W5oWAAV2PF67YR98Cr_uIntrDC4JhshqSnprMZc67WfUz5xf9rSwKRjplKGyG96XITcktYOdXDjLJhFfLm5LBCsrln1Ihsp5vvjCDLmivBNFUXkW3lx6iO0r0oIK-q4BWV0-df1Duqi_5YjseGthYQY4lx1qQC78E_mX56X4WcW0A/w640-h328/WorldsApart_Cap1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>If it's too hard to read, let me know and I'll add the full text here.<div><br /></div><div>A huge thanks to everyone for being patient with me this year, and to all the people who have contacted me over the last several months asking how I'm doing. I appreciate it greatly. I have probably missed a few emails, so if I haven't responded, please don't take it personally, I've been terrible at keeping up with people the past ten months.</div><div><br /></div><div>- B-Rex</div><div><br /></div><div>Edit: As requested, the full text, after the break:</div><div><span><a name='more'></a></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "AR CENA"; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: "AR CENA"; font-size: large;">Professor
Barbara Lipschitz took a deep breath as she finished dialing in her
machine, the brainchild of her multi-billion dollar research grant.
If it worked as she theorized, the device would tear a hole in
Space-Time that would lead to a parallel universe, similar to our own
world but fundamentally different in unknown ways. Taking a deep
breath, she finally hit the last switch, activating the machine.</span></div><div>
<p lang="en"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">After
a few heart-stopping seconds of silence, a shimmering sphere began to
form above the machine's projection platform. Adjusting the dials,
Barbara grew the sphere until it was as large as a shed. Her audience
of military and government officials watched the display,
nodding in approval as she made history....</span></span></p>
<p lang="en"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">Ten
minutes later, Barbara narrowed her eyes as the four-man team of
military volunteers was ushered away to begin suiting up to enter the
Einstein-Bose bridge to another reality, and felt her heart lurch
yet again. Nearly a decade of her life had been
spent on the amazing discovery, and now she'd been entirely denied
even the chance to take that first step through the portal. The
military officials funding her work had refused to
even consider the idea.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">She
adjusted some other dials, reading the displays on her machine. The
atmosphere on the other side was Earth-normal, gravity was the same,
samples of DNA in the air matched up with known species.
Every indication said the world beyond the portal was
virtually identical to Earth, just a different version, probably
differing only along small changes in historical events.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"Fuck
it," she mumbled under her breath, making up her mind. Grabbing
a small bag of supplies she'd carefully squirreled away behind a vent
panel in her machine, she took off running full speed at the portal,
before the guards could react to block her.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black; font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA;"><span lang="en"><i><b>"This
is one small step for woman! One giant--"</b></i></span></span><span style="font-family: AR CENA;"><span lang="en"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
she screamed as she leapt into the portal... and flew out the other
side of the shimmering sphere, falling to her knees. </span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: AR CENA;"><span lang="en"><i><b>"--Stupid
fucking tits!!!"</b></i></span></span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">Barbie
winced as she looked around the room, shocked to see dozens of armed
guards rushing at her, guns raised even as she struggled to get her
own guns back into her top.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">Two
hours later, she sighed into the quarantine-room's camera. "Dammit,
I already explained all this!!" She stomped her foot
impulsively, sending her giant breasts bouncing again.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"I
understand you're frustrated. Please, just walk me through it one
more time, Miss Lipschitz," said the General on the screen.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"That's
Doctor Dikli--er, Lipschitz!" she snapped, wincing as she
instinctively started to say her other name. "Look, time works
differently on the other side of the portal, okay? That's the only
explanation. Like, I've spent
the last decade there trying to reopen that stupid portal! And I
just, like, finally got enough money to rebuild my machine, and
stuff, okay? But, like, only a few
hours passed here."</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">The
general nodded. "And what can you tell us of the world beyond
the portal, Doctor?"</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">She
sighed, arching her back and posing akimbo before the cameras. "Like,
it's mostly the sameas our Earth, but, like, history went a bit
different, okay? I mean, I never found the
branching off point, maybe there were several
small differences, but, like, history education isn't a huge priority
over there..." She shook her head. "Anyway, porn become the
main form of
entertainment sometime around the start of Holly's Wood, sort of
kickstarting the sexual revolution half a century early, and with,
like, way more focus on hardcore sex.
Like, everyone's at least a part-time
pornstar over there." She gestured at her hugely augmented
chest. "I had to make some adjustments just to fund rebuilding
my machine."</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"And
who are you?" The General asked, a slight smirk on his face. The
dozen or so soldiers behind him on the screen were grinning.</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"I
told you, I'm Doctor Diklipz--no, dammit! I'm Doctor Barbie
Dik--errr! Barbara Lipschitz!" She glared at the general as he
chuckled into the microphone. After a decade of using her porn name,
it was hard to break the
habit, and the bastard chauvinists kept taking advantage of her slips
of the tongue. "Look, can we end this stupid interrogation?
Like, you totz know who I am! I need a surgeon,
these damned fuckballoons are super fucking heavy and I'm--"</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"No
can do, Mis--er, Doctor Lipschitz," the general interrupted.
"Your little stunt has convinced the Pentagon that it's too
dangerous to send our volunteers through the portal. So you'll be
going back through, just as soon as we've gotten
the go-ahead from the Commander-in-Chief."</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">She
gasped in horror! "Wait, what?! I can't go back there, like, I
just spent a decade on my knees trying to get back here!!!"</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"And
the nation appreciates your sacrifice," he replied, clearly more
interested in his phone screen. "Okay, we just go approval. Suit
her up boys, she's going back in!"</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"Wait!"
Barbie Diklipz shouted, as the quarantine room door burst open,
hazmat-suited soldiers entering to usher her back to the still
shimmering sphere. "I already told you everything, there's no
need to go back!!!"</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"Incorrect,"
said the General through the warehouse intercom. She glanced up at
the glass window where he and rest of the officials watched the
warehouse floor below. "This is no longer a fact-finding
mission; this has become a First-Contact mission. You are
to return to the alternative Earth, now redesignated as PORN-0, and
establish contact with the government there. They are to be given
this treaty--" A soldier shoved a wad of paper into
her left hand, and a complicated-looking radio into her right.
"--which will establish you as our official inter-dimensional
ambassador. With this modified radio, we should even be able to
communicate through the portal with you and that world's
government officials."</span></span></p>
<p lang="en" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: AR CENA; font-size: medium;">"But,
it'll be a decade before I can even reestablish contact!!! I can't
spend another ten years like this--" Doctor Diklipz screamed as
she was tossed back through the portal.....</span></span></p><br /></div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-66696967381539421562022-01-16T15:31:00.001-08:002022-01-16T17:02:01.153-08:00Every Inch A Bitch<p>Hello everyone! So sorry for not posting sooner, lots of things in real life have been taking up my time these past few months. Besides several family tragedies last month, I'm also still sick with kidney trouble, but it seems to be something I can mitigate. I've had to totally give up caffeine and carbonated drinks, which has made my issues more tolerable, if still very distracting.</p><p>On the plus side, I've finally finished moving into my house, and I now have a real office where I can work in peace. So I should be able to get more writing done now without being constantly interrupted.</p><p>Today's short-story/caption is something I meant to write ages ago. KS_1960 made a fun morphed image for me several years ago, specifically for this story idea, and I've only just now finally used it.</p><p>I originally planned this as a series of captions, but it ended up a bit shorter than I expected. I hope you all enjoy this little transformation, and I promise that I will get back to doing regular posts from now on, as well as updating my Patreon again at long last.</p><p>Also, a huge thank you to those of you who have written to me these past several months, and to all of you for being patient with my lack of posts.</p><p>- B-Rex</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGFQg8lSgxzOda_wuls2vrEmz4SSJa2SZxGo_l6gTNNPukMuhrha0rXBDA_iUioQTCQwvT7EP7DvCNH-6-6SEtpzxGBZMgrTarevNWKkPj1i6HA_ksKcC2d0zqCF4guWjfCb5cbhdFhvT_4a-sJWfUhQy4izydmF22yZ0K9QnqvFLShm29ip1N6nut=s2000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1328" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGFQg8lSgxzOda_wuls2vrEmz4SSJa2SZxGo_l6gTNNPukMuhrha0rXBDA_iUioQTCQwvT7EP7DvCNH-6-6SEtpzxGBZMgrTarevNWKkPj1i6HA_ksKcC2d0zqCF4guWjfCb5cbhdFhvT_4a-sJWfUhQy4izydmF22yZ0K9QnqvFLShm29ip1N6nut=w424-h640" width="424" /></a></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><p>Maxine was admiring one of her old photoshoots while finishing making up the employee schedule, when the girl burst
into her office, glowering in rage.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“I AM NOT DOING THIS!!!” Holly Manning screamed, throwing down what appeared to be her
contract.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“Of course you will, Holly,”
Maxine said coolly, not quite managing to hide her smirk. Of all the
duties that came with owning and managing the most popular club in
the city, this was her favorite.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">Famous for her large,
surgically-enhanced assets, Maxine Gunnz had gone from stripper to
headliner to reality TV starlet before she was thirty, and had used
her fame and success to start her own club, BigGunnz, the premier
nightclub and strip joint in the city. It had
already turned her into a multimillionaire several times over, and
allowed her to officially retire from stripping herself five years earlier.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">Her club's popularity, the massive
tips, and the fact that it had single-handedly launched several
girls' careers into porn superstardom had given her considerable
leeway to add whatever she wanted to their contracts. She adored
really pushing the girls' limits, to see just how far they'd go
before refusing. Some balked at the mandatory 'BigGunnz' trampstamp
tattoo, some at the required permanent makeup and lip injections
every six months. But most didn't object, too attracted to the money to turn down the job, no matter the humiliating requirements.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">She liked to wait for the last moment
to inform the girls of the mandatory breast implant surgery clause,
explaining it as they were on the verge of signing the contract. Some
girls were happy enough at the offer of a free boobjob, but Maxine
lived for the ones who clearly hated the idea. Holly had been one of
those, a pretty medical student buried under student loan debt who was too
desperate to refuse to sign.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">Maxine smirked at the now very buxom
blond stripper. Holly had just returned from her first surgery, lips
filled, makeup freshly tattooed, and with her new DDD-cups
overflowing her new bra.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“I see the clinic has done their
usual good job,” Maxine said dismissively, pretending to go back to
her paperwork. “They'll be able to go much larger next time, once
your skin has recovered.”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">Holly gritted her teeth, clearly
unaware of how foolish her inflated lips made the angry expression
appear, and sputtered, “I am not changing my name to HOLLY
HOWITZERS!!!!”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">There it was. Maxine Gunnz didn't
bother hiding her gleeful grin. Everyone knew the girls at her club
all had gun-related names, that was part of the club's draw after
all. But no one knew that their names were actually legally changed, by
contractual obligation.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“Oh, did I forget to mention that
particular clause, Miss <i>Howitzers</i>?” Maxine asked, still grinning.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“Dammit! I'm going to be a
microbiologist when I graduate; I can't be called Dr. Howitzers!! Certainly not with
these... <i>things</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> on my
chest!!!</span>”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">Maxine pushed a lock her own long
blond hair over an ear, and stood up, towering over the
newly-enhanced medical student. “Oh, yes you will. You will legally
change your name to match your stagename... And you will keep your
name for a decade after you retire from my employment. By the time you're ready to quit, I'll have too much invested in Holly Howitzer merchandise to have you just change your name back before I've off-loaded all of it. Besides, the
contract you signed was very clear on this.”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">She smirked as the girl cowered back
from her employer's statuesque presence. Maxine liked to claim that
she could've been a supermodel if not for her love of her breast
implants, though really she'd become a stripper (and gotten said
implants) because no modeling agency had wanted her.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“But--” Holly began, her earlier
bluster gone.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“You will follow the contract to
the letter, Miss Howitzers. Or you will be having a long,
embarrassingly public fight with my lawyers, which will cost far more
than your student loans. Now, get out of my office before I change
your name to something far more amusing.” Maxine waited a beat,
then held up the schedule she'd been filling out, and added, “Your
first set is coming up in ten minutes and you aren't in costume yet.
You'll be doing three shows tonight, after Barbie Bazookas, and just
for this little outburst, you'll be doing free VIP lapdances for the
rest of the week.”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">The girl looked like she was trying
to work up the nerve to shout at her again, but failed. “You'll pay
for this,” she mumbled angrily, as she slinked off to show her new
tits to the crowd.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">Maxine watched the new girl leave,
still smirking. She hoped the little bimbo did decide to violate the
contract when she retired from stripping in a year or two. The last
girl who had tried to change her name back, Ruby Rockets, had been
left penniless by the following lawsuit and had been forced to become
a camgirl just to keep from becoming homeless.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“Miss, no, <i>Doctor</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
Howitzers would look great shoving objects up her ass for her $5
LonelyFans,” Miss Gunnz laughed to herself.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in; text-align: center;"><span style="font-style: normal;">***</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">What
the hell is going on with me?” Maxine Gunnz narrowed her eyes at
her reflection. For the last week she'd been stuck in bed with the
flu, and now none of her clothes fit. Her favorite pants, a pair of
super-tight faded denim jeans that made her ass look amazing, now
slid off her hips without a belt to hold them up. Even her panties
were loose on her.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">If
not for the fact that her breasts were actually looking swollen,
probably a full cupsize larger than normal, she'd have just chalked
it up to losing weight during her sudden illness.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">What
the hell make you lose weight but grows your tits?!” she asked her
reflection, peeved at the apparent loss of her wardrobe. Even her
blouses were suddenly hanging off of her, at least below the
bustline.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Sighing,
she struggled to find something that would halfway fit. She was
already late to the shoot as it was.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Half-an-hour
later, she finally showed up to the club. She'd nearly had a wreck;
somehow her car seat had slid back and her mirrors were all at the
wrong angle.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Thankfully
the other main strippers were already there, several having already
had their photos taken for the club's annual calendar. Feeling in a
lousy mood, and annoyed that she'd missed the first few pages of the
calendar shoot, she butted through the crowd of gawking early-morning
customers and demanded to see the first set of shots.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">As
she stood around the backstage, perusing the glossy photos of Barbie
Bazookas, Tammi Torpedoes, and Pamela Peacemakers posing for their
respective monthly covers, she was startled to realize that the women
were staring at her. “What is it?!” she snapped.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Wanda
Warheads walked up to her, and suddenly Maxine realized that rather
than towering over the woman, she was looking her eye-to-eye.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">What's
wrong, Miss Gunnz? You look a </span><i>little </i><span style="font-style: normal;">piqued,”
said Wanda, an English major trying to pay off her tuition. </span>
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Holly
Howitzers walked up, smirking gleefully, and Maxine was shocked again
to find that she was only a few inches taller; just a week before
she'd been a full head above the buxom new-hire. “I can't believe
it worked!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">What
worked?! What's going on!!?!!” Maxine sputtered, spinning around as
Mollie Missiles and Nancy Nukes wandered over to join the gathering
of buxom bimbos. She stared in shock, as both women actually towered
over her! “How are all you so damned tall?!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Holly
just grinned. “My virus worked, I can't believe it!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">What
virus!!?!!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">Holly
infected you with a virus last week, bitch,” Bambi Bullets said,
pushing her own fake breasts hard into Maxine's pair, poking her
painfully with her perpetually hardened nipples.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">Well,
technically it's a variety of prions, not really a virus,” Holly
said, as the other women started crowding their suddenly shorter
boss. “I just didn't expect it would actually work. And so fast
too! You've already gotten shorter just since you arrived ten minutes
ago.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">What?!!
No, I haven't, you've all gotten bigger and--” Maxine began, only
for her jeans to suddenly fall to her ankles, the once snug belt no
longer tight enough to hug her hips. She looked down in shock, only
to realize that her tits had somehow grown another cupsize. “WHAT
THE FUCK IS HAPPENING TO ME?!!!!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">It's
a bit complicated to explain, actually,” Holly replied, as her
formerly imposing employer struggled to pull her jeans up, only to
have her panties fall down her thighs instead. “Essentially your
body is attacking your skeletal system, mostly focused on the femur
and spine, but several of the other prions attack the muscle and fat
cells as well. I'd say you've lost at least twenty pounds since I
infect you, and maybe four inches of height. Of course, it doesn't do
anything to reduce silicone.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Maxine
was horrified, giving up her fight with her ill-fitting clothes.
“That's impossible! You can't shrink someone with a virus!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<i>Prions</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,”
Holly corrected, turned away from her employer. “Though I do like
that word: shrink. I think that's a very good term for what's
happening to you, Miss Gunnz. Far better than 'Prion-induced
Degenerative Wasting Condition', as I'm calling it in my thesis.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Maxine
was too confused to argue. She was tired, and angry, and half-naked
on stage for the first time in half-a-decade. She looked around,
feeling panicked. She needed help, she needed a doctor, something,
anything! She grabbed at her pants, pulling out her phone to call an
ambulance.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">Don't
bother,” Holly said, taking the phone from her. Maxine started to
fight back, but let go when she realized she was actually staring up
at the woman. “They can't help you.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">She
slid her fingers down her cleavage and withdrew a small vial of milky
fluid. “This will counteract the prions, and stop your shrinking.
It won't reverse it, of course; you're permanently stuck where you
are. But it will stop you from getting shorter and shorter.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Maxine
snatched at the vial, but Holly easily held it out of her reach. The
sudden motion sent Maxine's now ridiculously over-sized breasts
bouncing free of her bra. Her too-loose top did nothing to hold them
in place.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">Not
so fast, Miss Gunnz,” Wanda said, looking over at Mollie Missiles.
The buxom brunette held up several documents. “You need to sign a
few things before Holly helps you.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Mollie,
who Maxine now remembered had been a law student before her mandatory
boobjob got her kicked from the program, thrust the first set of
papers at the shrinking blond. “I typed these up while you were out
with the </span><i>flu. </i><span style="font-style: normal;">They're
perfectly legally binding, I assure you, bitch.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Maxine
scanned the papers quickly, almost certain she could feel herself
shrinking by the second. “Wait, this is a contract?! I'm not
working for you!!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">Oh,
it gets better,” Mollie said, thrusting the next set of documents
at her. “You are going to sell us the club, for a nice lump sump of
one dollar, and then you are going back to stripping, you vain cunt.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The
women laughed down at her, as Maxine patently refused. “Never! I'd
rather be short and rich, than work for you bitches!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">Suit
yourself,” Holly said, pulling the stopper on the vial and making
as if to pour it out.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">WAIT!!!”
Maxine screamed. “I'll do it, I'll sign the damned documents! Just
stop this!!”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">The
women laughed at her again, as she hurriedly took a pen from Mollie
and signed the papers, unread.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Holly
waited until the documents were all signed and then for Maxine to
call her lawyers and explain the new club ownership. Once everything
was finalized, only then did she at last give Maxine the vial. To
Maxine's regret, she had lost even more height, far too much, but at
least she wouldn't lose anymore.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Or
so she thought, as she gulped down the vial, only for Holly to laugh
as she coughed up vile fluid. “Oh, by the way, that was just jizz
from a few of your customers. There isn't any cure, bitch. But don't
worry, you will stop shrinking eventually, once you hit the right
size.”</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Maxine
looked up at her in horror as she wiped her mouth clean.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“<span style="font-style: normal;">And
there was one little clause in that contract you might have missed,
Miss Gunnz,” Mollie said, as the women grinned down at their former
boss and new employee.</span></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; text-align: center;">***</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“And returning to the stage after a
five year hiatus, in her new role as the BigGunnz Club's official
mascot... <i>MINNIE GUNNZ!!!</i>”</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The announcer's
voice echoed around her as Maxine, now Minnie, gulped from her
perched just behind the stage curtains. The club was crowded tonight,
as her old fans returned to see her new debut and triumphant return
to stripping.</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0.1in;">“Well, get out
there, doll. Your adoring fans are waiting,” Holly said,
not-so-gently kicking her former boss in the rump, sending her
stumbling through the curtains and on to the stage.</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0.1in;">A roar of
applause rose and died, then turned to laughter, as all 26 inches of
Minnie Gunnz was finally revealed.</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0.1in;">Look out at the
sea of laughing, jeering faces, Minnie felt a strung urge to run for
the doors and flee, but knew from bitter experience that it would be
futile:</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0.1in;">She was too short
to reach the knob.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoZDakRo7LnxGksIBfARC-G8KD1gaAM_FcE_spiO-q6EDy1s3LsLN0xP3WKL-SyxDki9-VzLX-z778v9uia3gun5TrYDhEqznG6-04YQ7J_92duRXPmmRRQ0p2DyUBMyTAUuIVL7ekSHmoT9HNWDt4IJubCf2Y6ZdZAiVCqCroDTfWr7AductkhIKx=s2400" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="2400" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhoZDakRo7LnxGksIBfARC-G8KD1gaAM_FcE_spiO-q6EDy1s3LsLN0xP3WKL-SyxDki9-VzLX-z778v9uia3gun5TrYDhEqznG6-04YQ7J_92duRXPmmRRQ0p2DyUBMyTAUuIVL7ekSHmoT9HNWDt4IJubCf2Y6ZdZAiVCqCroDTfWr7AductkhIKx=w640-h400" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0.1in;"><br /></p><span><!--more--></span><span><!--more--></span><span><!--more--></span>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-36660966638827465252021-10-29T23:51:00.000-07:002021-10-29T23:51:15.500-07:00Halloween Treats!<p>Hello everyone! I know I've been gone way too long, but I'm alright and still around.</p><p>A few months back I started the process of moving into a new house and it needed a lot of work to become livable first. And in the midst of replacing the wiring and plumbing, I got sick with a nasty kidney infection, which keeps coming back unfortunately. I'm on my fourth round of antibiotics at the moment, more than six weeks since I started. As you can probably understand, sitting at a computer has been very uncomfortable, and I really haven't been able to focus mentally on writing or anything much the last many weeks really. I had a fever all last week and was even a bit out of my mind for a several days.</p><p>Anyway, despite all that I have managed to make a few of my doll transformation morphs and earlier back in July I even finished a few pin-up style renders.</p><p>Sorry I don't have anything better to post for Halloween, but hopefully I can get some captions done soon and belatedly post them for the holiday.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0kQNPWS3j9Y/YXyMD14tc2I/AAAAAAAAMTA/yN3rpXWv_KMWMlO59DII41KeJm4KgLWHwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/Bridgette%2BB%2BMorph%2B1%2BSex%2BDoll%2Bshocked%2Bexpression%2B1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0kQNPWS3j9Y/YXyMD14tc2I/AAAAAAAAMTA/yN3rpXWv_KMWMlO59DII41KeJm4KgLWHwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Bridgette%2BB%2BMorph%2B1%2BSex%2BDoll%2Bshocked%2Bexpression%2B1a.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><span><a name='more'></a></span><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LZF8OdCOaW4/YXyMDuUAmfI/AAAAAAAAMS4/o7EDQ8ZYjws_YjFlj8Za0NhG9CiSybBiACLcBGAsYHQ/s1695/rda-wm158cmlcup-h56-02%2Btaylor%2Bwane%2Bdoll%2Bmorph1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1695" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LZF8OdCOaW4/YXyMDuUAmfI/AAAAAAAAMS4/o7EDQ8ZYjws_YjFlj8Za0NhG9CiSybBiACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/rda-wm158cmlcup-h56-02%2Btaylor%2Bwane%2Bdoll%2Bmorph1a.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j3unRZy6IIc/YXyMDvO-wjI/AAAAAAAAMS8/mlctoYMKNvYR1yK1Nq1xZFRYEQIGtiosgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1800/rda-wm158cmlcup-h56-16%2Bdoll%2Bmorph%2B1b%2Bdoll%2Beyes%2Blips%2Ba%2Ba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j3unRZy6IIc/YXyMDvO-wjI/AAAAAAAAMS8/mlctoYMKNvYR1yK1Nq1xZFRYEQIGtiosgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/rda-wm158cmlcup-h56-16%2Bdoll%2Bmorph%2B1b%2Bdoll%2Beyes%2Blips%2Ba%2Ba.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m8jB_3lkyCw/YXyMEBqeMuI/AAAAAAAAMTE/Gh5cWciGVS0Brm0JQim8KHr4FtDnbgCFwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1693/rda-wm158cmlcup-h56-39%2Bdoll%2B1a%2Bmorph%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1693" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m8jB_3lkyCw/YXyMEBqeMuI/AAAAAAAAMTE/Gh5cWciGVS0Brm0JQim8KHr4FtDnbgCFwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/rda-wm158cmlcup-h56-39%2Bdoll%2B1a%2Bmorph%2B1.jpg" width="227" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PuQ087w5zQo/YXyNRMQeOxI/AAAAAAAAMTY/cbq7LGi0IAI8dv9D68VsbEYhby8EuyGTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/2117355099%2Bdoll%2Bmorph1%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PuQ087w5zQo/YXyNRMQeOxI/AAAAAAAAMTY/cbq7LGi0IAI8dv9D68VsbEYhby8EuyGTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/2117355099%2Bdoll%2Bmorph1%2B3.jpg" width="213" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I might have posted these here before, sorry if so.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LjbmbkIfcQY/YXyNRAqFGXI/AAAAAAAAMTU/uWx-xoid8Z0UX3N2uG52n2TKclUrNv-FACLcBGAsYHQ/s1000/Armless%2BStaircase%2Bmorph2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="664" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LjbmbkIfcQY/YXyNRAqFGXI/AAAAAAAAMTU/uWx-xoid8Z0UX3N2uG52n2TKclUrNv-FACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Armless%2BStaircase%2Bmorph2.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MXKxSW_RrSc/YXyNjzGJP8I/AAAAAAAAMTk/niQvqs_W0AMLGhG1BNG7QR9qTuNQe3hoACLcBGAsYHQ/s1024/Armless%2Bmorph1%2Bfinished.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MXKxSW_RrSc/YXyNjzGJP8I/AAAAAAAAMTk/niQvqs_W0AMLGhG1BNG7QR9qTuNQe3hoACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Armless%2Bmorph1%2Bfinished.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KSDs759MAmQ/YXyNj_6byQI/AAAAAAAAMTo/V66S8QaATxEN2ZMfyeFx3DF2ENorrNi5wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1422/Nina_Elle%2Bjointed%2Bmorph%2B1%2Bdoll%2Bjoints.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1066" data-original-width="1422" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KSDs759MAmQ/YXyNj_6byQI/AAAAAAAAMTo/V66S8QaATxEN2ZMfyeFx3DF2ENorrNi5wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Nina_Elle%2Bjointed%2Bmorph%2B1%2Bdoll%2Bjoints.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>This last is a pic I made for an old caption idea involving a woman whose joints have been surgically replaced with doll joints, allowing her body to be locked into poses. I doubt I'll get to writing it, unfortunately, as I can't remember where I was going with the caption beyond the premise. Still, I thought it was a fun idea; if you want to write the caption or use the idea or any of my morphs, feel free.<div><br /></div><div>Here's a few renders, some I've posted on the Patreon I think, but they should be new here. Most of these are just little pin-ups (particularly with Black Widow) but hopefully they're fun even without a caption.</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XCafQcWzP2M/YXyOs7zSRMI/AAAAAAAAMTw/3-DMKg6bXWcj5t8j8SMeR0nvaYznpDckACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/69slave1aa1%2Bcum.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1575" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XCafQcWzP2M/YXyOs7zSRMI/AAAAAAAAMTw/3-DMKg6bXWcj5t8j8SMeR0nvaYznpDckACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/69slave1aa1%2Bcum.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h0i8ZnuvcTg/YXyOvTOfppI/AAAAAAAAMUI/RVp-ukc1msEkWm4_wTGrsXn3yaBt9pFZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/alienBW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1575" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-h0i8ZnuvcTg/YXyOvTOfppI/AAAAAAAAMUI/RVp-ukc1msEkWm4_wTGrsXn3yaBt9pFZQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/alienBW.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_JeoVg4ufRY/YXyOt_DL4QI/AAAAAAAAMT4/oj1NoWJm5iUJ988SW2jv2sAN6dW7yhdGgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Black%2BWidow%2B1%2Ba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_JeoVg4ufRY/YXyOt_DL4QI/AAAAAAAAMT4/oj1NoWJm5iUJ988SW2jv2sAN6dW7yhdGgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Black%2BWidow%2B1%2Ba.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tPPfoEOeKvs/YXyOtE8ldUI/AAAAAAAAMT0/Py7zZ-4ZylELuaUTXjXlQ7duQ_pF_LJEACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BlackWidowHulkTessPinup1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1575" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tPPfoEOeKvs/YXyOtE8ldUI/AAAAAAAAMT0/Py7zZ-4ZylELuaUTXjXlQ7duQ_pF_LJEACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/BlackWidowHulkTessPinup1.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q2v3Ut5UnRg/YXyO_WaH0CI/AAAAAAAAMUk/JDY7P-wZuhA0OOcGCVVvUt11qBZTZNecwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BlackWidowHulkTessPinup2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1575" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q2v3Ut5UnRg/YXyO_WaH0CI/AAAAAAAAMUk/JDY7P-wZuhA0OOcGCVVvUt11qBZTZNecwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/BlackWidowHulkTessPinup2.jpg" width="246" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div>That Tesseract cube was a real pain to make, by the way. ;-)</div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YDfYl49v1DE/YXyOvwrodPI/AAAAAAAAMUM/lg80_NxGz9op4724ytoDO9zfpCWpDx7VACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/dick%2Bteacher1B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1266" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YDfYl49v1DE/YXyOvwrodPI/AAAAAAAAMUM/lg80_NxGz9op4724ytoDO9zfpCWpDx7VACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/dick%2Bteacher1B.jpg" width="198" /></a></div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OCWcSzSs9zo/YXyOwD7YxDI/AAAAAAAAMUQ/IOfWNGM-r-stw6WNyQNPBmA0eMQAaCiwwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/gas%2Bleak%2B1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OCWcSzSs9zo/YXyOwD7YxDI/AAAAAAAAMUQ/IOfWNGM-r-stw6WNyQNPBmA0eMQAaCiwwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/gas%2Bleak%2B1a.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VvQWMy9r1dA/YXyOulTTx4I/AAAAAAAAMUA/xmRvBCM0cOUDsaK1Fl-sr7HqLhVNjaIMQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Statue%2B1aa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VvQWMy9r1dA/YXyOulTTx4I/AAAAAAAAMUA/xmRvBCM0cOUDsaK1Fl-sr7HqLhVNjaIMQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Statue%2B1aa.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>"And this Widow Piggy never went home again..."<br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMM7KYszO3w/YXyOu7OxhMI/AAAAAAAAMUE/j9MD6flT9pgP2x_mZJI95zXMHhXepo-jgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/ThisWidowPiggyNeverWentHomeAgain1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1575" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZMM7KYszO3w/YXyOu7OxhMI/AAAAAAAAMUE/j9MD6flT9pgP2x_mZJI95zXMHhXepo-jgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/ThisWidowPiggyNeverWentHomeAgain1.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">"At least we found you a new big green boyfriend in the lost and found box, Widow Piggy."</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s7APiEOYFUg/YXyO_2EALTI/AAAAAAAAMU0/guMG7K_ClG0-PW7xNzXk66Ra6xXmcgLwACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/ThisWidowPiggyGottaNewBoyfriend1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1575" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s7APiEOYFUg/YXyO_2EALTI/AAAAAAAAMU0/guMG7K_ClG0-PW7xNzXk66Ra6xXmcgLwACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/ThisWidowPiggyGottaNewBoyfriend1.jpg" width="246" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">And finally, a little Halloween render loosely inspired by some recent Dov Sherman artwork. This might end up being a caption, actually.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5K5GmVy-GwY/YXzrID73cOI/AAAAAAAAMVQ/JsKxdsJRWx48KfmlrGTUvxm8gjNkCVgwACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Office%2BCostume%2BSurprise%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5K5GmVy-GwY/YXzrID73cOI/AAAAAAAAMVQ/JsKxdsJRWx48KfmlrGTUvxm8gjNkCVgwACLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/Office%2BCostume%2BSurprise%2B1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I hope you all enjoy these little treats, and a huge thanks to everyone for being patient with me the last few months, I never expected to be gone so long.</div><p></p><p>- B-Rex</p></div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-79407827144820451592021-07-14T15:30:00.000-07:002021-07-14T15:30:00.913-07:00Guest Post: Making A Splash<p>Happy Humpday, everybody!</p><p>Today I have a long series of captions sent in by a Guest captioner who wants to remain anonymous. It's a dark little revenge tale, with a unique mermaid theme.</p><p>He spent some time writing these, and would very much like to hear your feedback in the comments, so please let him know what you think.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wlYKUqUJVBs/YO9i8oImS2I/AAAAAAAAMAs/MzPT3nIshCw48wSTi_Rkg_ei8wGjQgD5ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/intro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wlYKUqUJVBs/YO9i8oImS2I/AAAAAAAAMAs/MzPT3nIshCw48wSTi_Rkg_ei8wGjQgD5ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/intro.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IpgU3kdBlig/YO9i_2fD9-I/AAAAAAAAMAw/kh0a2fqJiNgdrFQV3H-wJ0nJsVaenYwAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IpgU3kdBlig/YO9i_2fD9-I/AAAAAAAAMAw/kh0a2fqJiNgdrFQV3H-wJ0nJsVaenYwAQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TSk3b5E-hfA/YO9jCgMxv9I/AAAAAAAAMA0/9Lc9TkXS6E4TSIqf0aZe1N7envCKKUx0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TSk3b5E-hfA/YO9jCgMxv9I/AAAAAAAAMA0/9Lc9TkXS6E4TSIqf0aZe1N7envCKKUx0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TsPIHn_1IKM/YO9jGHtScuI/AAAAAAAAMA4/u_gnWKi_i0otR0DczHCP18jwwlqzU2mUwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TsPIHn_1IKM/YO9jGHtScuI/AAAAAAAAMA4/u_gnWKi_i0otR0DczHCP18jwwlqzU2mUwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dumJ2y64FK4/YO9jLbmDWoI/AAAAAAAAMA8/LWUZMSeDQNQSJAGwl0RFAyHFofEjvB5hgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dumJ2y64FK4/YO9jLbmDWoI/AAAAAAAAMA8/LWUZMSeDQNQSJAGwl0RFAyHFofEjvB5hgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a7-b3zdIdYQ/YO9jO7zZK0I/AAAAAAAAMBA/TjkvM__kH2kkfkmZdeghEn5sAD5E1ie2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="730" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a7-b3zdIdYQ/YO9jO7zZK0I/AAAAAAAAMBA/TjkvM__kH2kkfkmZdeghEn5sAD5E1ie2wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/6.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-el8Vnv1WzvI/YO9jTsU1M2I/AAAAAAAAMBM/n5j5Ytzb87kmHG6L349enzgDKG-s8sxYACLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="709" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-el8Vnv1WzvI/YO9jTsU1M2I/AAAAAAAAMBM/n5j5Ytzb87kmHG6L349enzgDKG-s8sxYACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/7.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wTgE8mp3tRI/YO9jX5oFAcI/AAAAAAAAMBQ/K3silCIwiOcZHuOhruxoxPFpvHg2YS0zQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wTgE8mp3tRI/YO9jX5oFAcI/AAAAAAAAMBQ/K3silCIwiOcZHuOhruxoxPFpvHg2YS0zQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/8.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-22YSw9mL3Fw/YO9jbEYDQgI/AAAAAAAAMBY/iRRkbPsIoTwpbUgHmhxkSHKbEcprKqouQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-22YSw9mL3Fw/YO9jbEYDQgI/AAAAAAAAMBY/iRRkbPsIoTwpbUgHmhxkSHKbEcprKqouQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/9.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUqjOa1_xP4/YO9jeeZC5kI/AAAAAAAAMBc/EYrRUnW0cUYdSM6fgtNDCUlJg0N4h_n0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZUqjOa1_xP4/YO9jeeZC5kI/AAAAAAAAMBc/EYrRUnW0cUYdSM6fgtNDCUlJg0N4h_n0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/10.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f1c5K9VH8ok/YO9jhhv-zzI/AAAAAAAAMBk/vrASbMV8Q6ghMymHvl7V1a5yyX0KkxAbACLcBGAsYHQ/s1800/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="679" data-original-width="1800" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f1c5K9VH8ok/YO9jhhv-zzI/AAAAAAAAMBk/vrASbMV8Q6ghMymHvl7V1a5yyX0KkxAbACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/11.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I hope everyone enjoys the Guest posting, and again, please let the author know what you think.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">- B-Rex</div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-33461683724993145862021-07-05T21:16:00.000-07:002021-07-05T21:16:25.843-07:00Lover's Doll<p>Hello all, happy (belated) 4th of July!</p><p>Figured folks were getting a bit tired of transgender-themed captions, so here's a silly two-parter doll-transformation caption. I made these morphs awhile ago, but I don't think I've ever posted them here before.</p><p>Thanks again to everyone for being patient with my non-extant posting schedule the last few months, and thanks again for all the comments you left on the last post.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oHebqt50HQA/YOPPw3Tql8I/AAAAAAAAL78/zor5LfhRcpEBLhNoYWg0jkdL6aUoGhp5wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1780/Secrets_Cap1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1780" height="294" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-oHebqt50HQA/YOPPw3Tql8I/AAAAAAAAL78/zor5LfhRcpEBLhNoYWg0jkdL6aUoGhp5wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h294/Secrets_Cap1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ke84QaaZrjA/YOPPxDqX1BI/AAAAAAAAL8A/ZiPFXv8YV7A8uulZ00iY65VlPGDbJBnaQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1190/Secrets_Cap2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1190" height="442" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ke84QaaZrjA/YOPPxDqX1BI/AAAAAAAAL8A/ZiPFXv8YV7A8uulZ00iY65VlPGDbJBnaQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h442/Secrets_Cap2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>I had to shrink the morphed images a bit to fit the captions, so here's the full-size versions:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JmACpjBaQ_Q/YOPQqZ8_6eI/AAAAAAAAL8Q/MA9thrPXq-kvjnZlENuhYZ4lWFINWtyoQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BridgetteDollMorph1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" height="426" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JmACpjBaQ_Q/YOPQqZ8_6eI/AAAAAAAAL8Q/MA9thrPXq-kvjnZlENuhYZ4lWFINWtyoQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h426/BridgetteDollMorph1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v3TlDNsXBSI/YOPQqH_uRmI/AAAAAAAAL8M/RwO2syHzMwUR_vikAqqKyw5SHHldb93tgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/BridgetteDollMorph2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1500" data-original-width="1000" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-v3TlDNsXBSI/YOPQqH_uRmI/AAAAAAAAL8M/RwO2syHzMwUR_vikAqqKyw5SHHldb93tgCLcBGAsYHQ/w426-h640/BridgetteDollMorph2.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I've been working on photoshop (well, GIMP actually) lately, getting my morphing chops back up to speed and working on finishing some new images for future captions I'm working on. This is just some of the ones that turned out better:<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_KKREypi2C4/YOPRIAs_1mI/AAAAAAAAL8g/QuvehSQBhDYccIKSnCpwMumAQn3D8ImbgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/789353894%2Bnikki%2Bbenz%2Bdickgirl%2Bmorph1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_KKREypi2C4/YOPRIAs_1mI/AAAAAAAAL8g/QuvehSQBhDYccIKSnCpwMumAQn3D8ImbgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/789353894%2Bnikki%2Bbenz%2Bdickgirl%2Bmorph1.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nVHm9oN8Xcw/YOPRHx04CXI/AAAAAAAAL8c/S-ixoLEAfv4g5uji93soJF8LjmT-QWqYgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Pussyface%2Bsurgery%2Bmorph2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1367" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nVHm9oN8Xcw/YOPRHx04CXI/AAAAAAAAL8c/S-ixoLEAfv4g5uji93soJF8LjmT-QWqYgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Pussyface%2Bsurgery%2Bmorph2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IpJrCtZvOXM/YOPTuw7EAuI/AAAAAAAAL8o/ZKssmuRDxRUu8IeLvl40-OcIEnWCVosWACLcBGAsYHQ/s2000/1555320034%2Btiara%2Bprincess%2Bsilicone%2Bdoll%2Btpe%2Bsex%2Blove%2Bdoll%2Bmorph%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1333" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IpJrCtZvOXM/YOPTuw7EAuI/AAAAAAAAL8o/ZKssmuRDxRUu8IeLvl40-OcIEnWCVosWACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/1555320034%2Btiara%2Bprincess%2Bsilicone%2Bdoll%2Btpe%2Bsex%2Blove%2Bdoll%2Bmorph%2B1.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0CsiTGexNj4/YOPTyNC0DuI/AAAAAAAAL8s/1Hbd2ZvLvnsVbXg6o1gUmgIVHfCKR47_wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/2117355099%2Bdoll%2Bmorph1%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1280" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0CsiTGexNj4/YOPTyNC0DuI/AAAAAAAAL8s/1Hbd2ZvLvnsVbXg6o1gUmgIVHfCKR47_wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/2117355099%2Bdoll%2Bmorph1%2B3.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2LmTx5fTT5Q/YOPUX8J4WsI/AAAAAAAAL88/dR718nusYa8MgKmytd2Vfe0nWodojhQbACLcBGAsYHQ/s1458/HeadDownDollMorph1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1458" data-original-width="973" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-2LmTx5fTT5Q/YOPUX8J4WsI/AAAAAAAAL88/dR718nusYa8MgKmytd2Vfe0nWodojhQbACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/HeadDownDollMorph1.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i7o_KS36Rs8/YOPUX2HayPI/AAAAAAAAL84/QF3DqBWTFfQQSMG5GtO_pBmVg3LnaAWcACLcBGAsYHQ/s1137/Sex%2Bdoll%2BBridgette%2BB%2Bmorph%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1137" data-original-width="703" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-i7o_KS36Rs8/YOPUX2HayPI/AAAAAAAAL84/QF3DqBWTFfQQSMG5GtO_pBmVg3LnaAWcACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Sex%2Bdoll%2BBridgette%2BB%2Bmorph%2B2.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div>Those last two are a bit older, and I might have posted them here or on Deviantart before, but if not, here they are.</div><div><br /></div><div>I made another morph several years ago and never got around to posting it. Someone wanted me to make a morph inspired by this infamous comic page:</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FqptcNevPPc/YOPVDprv1EI/AAAAAAAAL9I/dUfLyhWPK7AFKpX-TxOhYuk84RLr0wP1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BatgirlInPeril.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1371" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FqptcNevPPc/YOPVDprv1EI/AAAAAAAAL9I/dUfLyhWPK7AFKpX-TxOhYuk84RLr0wP1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/BatgirlInPeril.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>So I came up with this. My skills have improved a bit since then, and I can probably do a better job of making a uniform. But I'm still happy with how it turned out. (Added the original for comparison)<br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M63ksj67Eg0/YOPVDoqwPOI/AAAAAAAAL9Q/8MhMmh5vNxIDDaozpqZ-sjSOna3ZQAjTgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1414/BatgirlBound1_morphCropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1414" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M63ksj67Eg0/YOPVDoqwPOI/AAAAAAAAL9Q/8MhMmh5vNxIDDaozpqZ-sjSOna3ZQAjTgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/BatgirlBound1_morphCropped.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vu_e8xqRf0E/YOPVDmRVQNI/AAAAAAAAL9M/rcG0xPWskv4n-MNK3a4bG6cpr4f9eXP4wCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/BatgirlBound1_Original.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="1600" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vu_e8xqRf0E/YOPVDmRVQNI/AAAAAAAAL9M/rcG0xPWskv4n-MNK3a4bG6cpr4f9eXP4wCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/BatgirlBound1_Original.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Finally, here's a caption I made weeks ago for a planned series. I'm going to rework the idea a bit, and make it all with Daz renders (I have a few renders finished already). This is pretty much entirely setup, but hopefully it will engender some excitement for the series whenever I can actually finish enough to post. It'll be called "Sidekicked", which is something of a hint as to the plot.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R_Qzkb3lP7c/YOPX596YZ3I/AAAAAAAAL9c/K2AYf5tgLnkcCYpuIxcQ3K8OPlz2f99JwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1720/Sidekicked_cap1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1104" data-original-width="1720" height="410" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R_Qzkb3lP7c/YOPX596YZ3I/AAAAAAAAL9c/K2AYf5tgLnkcCYpuIxcQ3K8OPlz2f99JwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h410/Sidekicked_cap1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I hope you all enjoy the morphs and captions today.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">- B-Rex</div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-46592361799378300522021-06-18T17:21:00.001-07:002021-06-18T17:21:21.720-07:00Bet Her Not 3<p>Happy Friday, everyone! I'm back, finally, and with new captions!</p><p>This has been a very busy few months, but I am at last getting a little spare time again, and I've been trying to get back into writing. Today I've got a new sequel to my Bet Her Not series from last year.</p><p>Also, several weeks ago Adobeman sent me some age-regression comic-stories he's made, and said I can post them here as a guest post. But I haven't been able to figure out how to post PDFs here. I may just have to put them on my Google Drive and post links here, unless someone knows how to upload documents to blogger directly.</p><p>Anyway, enough catching up, on to the caption!</p><p>(I'd strongly recommend reading <a href="https://degradeddamsels.blogspot.com/2020/07/bet-her-not.html" target="">Bet Her Not 1</a> and <a href="https://degradeddamsels.blogspot.com/2020/07/bet-her-not-2.html">Bet Her Not 2</a> first)</p><h2 style="text-align: center;">Bet Her Not 3</h2><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qfzGpj5I1HY/YM0zq650loI/AAAAAAAAL2M/NpFgWRHBA0g4iUQrQIKmlfB9t3oD7Y8GQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BetHerNot3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1466" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qfzGpj5I1HY/YM0zq650loI/AAAAAAAAL2M/NpFgWRHBA0g4iUQrQIKmlfB9t3oD7Y8GQCLcBGAsYHQ/w458-h640/BetHerNot3.jpg" width="458" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Your seat is right <i>here</i>,
ma'am.”</span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tiffani Wiffeneye winced at the
flight attendant's harsh tone, wanting to apologize for his appearance but
the woman was already gone down the aisle.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Do I really have to wear this
the entire flight,” he hissed at Jenna, as she took her seat next
to the window.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">And every flight after this
one, Toots,” Jenna reminded him, smirking as she used one of his
'preferred' pronouns. “A bet's a bet.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">I know, I know. I just didn't
realize it was going to piss off the flight staff so much,” he
whispered, as the attendant suddenly pushed her cart past, nearly
hitting his elbow without so much as a glance back at him.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tiffani had just been promoted
after a record quarter to the top sales position in the company. The
position would take him all over the country on near-daily flights,
and thanks to yet another lost bet, he'd be flying in a stewardess
costume, at least until Jenna thought up something more humiliating
for him.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Oh well, at least I'm free of
those absurd implants, </i>he reminded himself, feeling more
cheerful. He'd managed to avoid coming in last place in the company
5K run, and true to her word, Jenna had indeed let him get his
formerly G-cup implants exchanged with a more manageable set. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">So, your new boobs still sore?”
Jenna asked, smirking.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Nah, and my back feels better
already,” he answered, as the plane started down the runway. “Still
sore over losing the promotion?”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jenna shrugged nonchalantly, but
he could tell he'd scored a hit. “My sales were consistently better
than yours, you just had a lucky quarter. And frankly, the company
needed someone to show off how 'inclusive' they are. Pride month and
all that. Frankly, I bet you'd have never gotten promoted over me if
you didn't have that dick.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Well, that's one bet I'm not
going to risk,” he smirked.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Smiling to himself, he pulled out
his pink phone and began a chorus of moans and gasps, as he quickly
set up a playlist for the long flight home, hardly noticing the
strange looks he was getting from the other passengers.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Still, I'm glad we got to go on
this trip, even if it was to get rid of those giant implants of
yours,” Jenna said, as he looked up from his phone, tongue shoved
deep into a cheek. “I've never been to the Bahamas before. And I
needed a vacation anyway, even if I am the one paying for it.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He'd spent the 'vacation' in bed,
recovering from surgery, but grunted in agreement, then winced as his
phone automatically deleted a song. “Dammipht!” he grunted,
tongue still in cheek, and began rebuilding his playlist.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">They'd ended up having to head out
of the country to get his new implants; apparently it had been too
soon since his last surgery, and no accredited hospital in the states
would let him go under the knife again so soon. Even though the last
two weeks had been fairly painful for him, he was happy to be back to
a 'mere' C-cup again.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The plane finished taxiing to the
runway and soon took off, as the four hour flight back home began. As
the jet roared upwards into the sky, Tiffani felt first his ears pop,
then, strangely, a button pop on his ridiculous new outfit.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Rolling his eyes, he fumbled with
the button, but could barely get it to snap back in place.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Problems?” Jenna asked,
glancing slyly at her roommate and coworker.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">No, I--” he began, then
frowned as the button popped again. The jet began to level out, but
was still climbing rapidly. Suddenly, another button popped free.
“What the—Jenna?! My tits?! They're growing!!!!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Passengers began to turn in their
seats, glancing back at the feminized man's outburst.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Shush, dollface, or you'll
cause a riot,” Jenna giggled, as Tiffani's chest swelled, already
well past a D-cup.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He glared at her, as it became
clear she wasn't surprised by his suddenly growing breasts. “What
the hell is going on, Jen?!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Nothing, it's totally natural.
Well, not <i>natural</i>, but you know what I mean.” She smirked as
he fumbled uselessly to rebutton his top. “So, remember when I said
you're new implants were gelled silicone? Well, that was a bit of a
white lie. They're actually something called 'Bubble Juice'
implants.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">What?!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She ignored his outburst. “<i>Bubble
Juice</i>. It's actually a gel, not a liquid, so the name isn't very
accurate. Anyway, they were supposed to be more pliable than
so-called jelly bear implants, but even more durable. They were
popular with some pornstars for a few months, but unfortunately, they
turned out to have some... interesting bugs.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tiffani wanted to demand she
explain, but suddenly his top exploded open, as his breasts erupted
outward, straining against his now far-too-small sports bra. The bra
stretched to hold in the rapidly inflating melons, but only just
barely managing to contain the pair.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">A small black line on the bra
stretched out, and to his surprise, words were becoming visible as
the line was pulled farther and farther to each side.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>MILE HIGH CLUB RECRUITER!!</i>”
he gasped aloud, as his breasts surged to even greater volume as the
jet finally hit cruising altitude. He was even bigger than his
previous G-cup proportions! And still growing!!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Wow, the online reviews were
right! Those things are incredible!” Jenna giggled with glee, as he
fought to hold in his breasts. He didn't know if she meant the
ridiculous sports-bra, or his new implants.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jenna pulled out her own phone and
began recording the moment for posterity, as more and more passengers
took in the sight.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">JENNA?!!” Tiffani growled,
“What the fuck is happening to me?!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Huh? Oh, right. So, basically
Bubble Juice turns out to have a small problem. The pseudo-gel is
highly carbonated with CO2 gas suspended into material to lower the
weight of the implants. It works really well. But unfortunately when
the implants are moved into an area of lower atmospheric pressure,
the gas leaves solution, forming bubbles in the gel core, turning it
into foam.” She paused, smiling as she zoomed the camera into his
chest. “Into a <i>LOT </i>of foam, actually. You're way bigger than
a G-cup now, like maybe J or K level!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tiffani stared in horror at her,
as his hands sank into his taut, but surprisingly spongy breasts.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jenna just smiled evilly. “They'll
swell as the air pressure drops with the growing altitude, like a
living barometer. Pity you got that promotion, you'll be spending
half your day in the air from now on.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">That thought sent a shiver down
his spine, as the jet banked, rising slightly higher as it turned
toward the mainland. His bra stretched a bit more.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">She
winked at him. “And it's only temporary. You'll shrink right
back when we land at home.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He glanced out the window at the
island a mile below, as a thought finally came to him. At sea level
his breasts were mere C-cups, now he was bigger than ever. But that
meant....</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Dammit Jenna, we live in
Denver!!!!?!!!”</span></span></p><div style="text-align: center;">*****</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I hope you all enjoyed the new caption/story. I have a second caption ready, though I'm not as happy with it. But the photomanips I made for it (some time ago) came out very well, I think. I figured you all were a little tired of my renders, and might appreciate some morphs again.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I'll post that caption tomorrow, and hopefully have figured out how to handle Adobeman's age-regression PDFs as well.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Thanks to everybody for being patient with me this year, my new job has taken up way more of my time than I expected, and I've had some difficulty with other things in real life these last several weeks. I'm going to try to get back into regular posts again, finally. I have more stuff already in the works.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">- B-Rex</div><p></p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-74062151736114331412021-04-19T04:57:00.002-07:002021-04-19T04:57:45.569-07:00In Space, No One Can Hear You Gag<p>Hello everyone! I'm so sorry for disappearing again, I should've posted something here but I kept thinking I'd finish a caption first and update everyone then. But obviously that didn't happen. Next thing I know, two months have passed!</p><p>I've been extremely busy with my day jobs. Back in February I got handed a big contract for my consultant gig, which up to now has been a sort of side job for extra cash. But this contract is for double my total hours last year, and I have to finish it by August. It's a pretty fair fraction of my yearly salary, so it's kind of been a priority for me.</p><p>And honestly, after spending all day working on spreadsheets and updating a database, I just haven't really been in the mood to spend even more time staring at a computer screen to write anything.</p><p>But in some good news, I've cut down my hours at my other job, and I'm going to try to finally get some captions finished in my spare time.</p><p>I saw an Aliens/Ripley cartoon on BDSMlr reblogged by Dr Psycho, and got inspired to make a few renders again. Can't seem to find it to post a link, but luckily I saved the original.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mEnVGqaFLC4/YH1aSmvd8II/AAAAAAAALv0/4s-7tKUg9ssXRSdKZNbxUDzfLEpZPXPDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s701/bdsmlr-1114249-7YtIJzlcde.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="701" data-original-width="540" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mEnVGqaFLC4/YH1aSmvd8II/AAAAAAAALv0/4s-7tKUg9ssXRSdKZNbxUDzfLEpZPXPDwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/bdsmlr-1114249-7YtIJzlcde.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The Original</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A3Naf3hZZDw/YH1ag8nRt6I/AAAAAAAALv8/-n3KR6L8tuEW0_EW_t0aGUSe4f5Ew-QeACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Alien%2BFacehugger%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-A3Naf3hZZDw/YH1ag8nRt6I/AAAAAAAALv8/-n3KR6L8tuEW0_EW_t0aGUSe4f5Ew-QeACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Alien%2BFacehugger%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And my version</td></tr></tbody></table><br />The fog took ages to set up right; I swear, never again.<div><br /></div><div>And a few other renders I don't think I've posted here, yet. These were made a few months ago, mostly just playing around with various assets to see how they'd turn out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Two Laura Krauff test renders...</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MFl0xzay-jE/YH1ah9e6WxI/AAAAAAAALwI/D_pTIqhGc6kb7qfcVRdGbJFIorsc4cKYQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/laura%2Bflare%2B1%2Bsnake%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-MFl0xzay-jE/YH1ah9e6WxI/AAAAAAAALwI/D_pTIqhGc6kb7qfcVRdGbJFIorsc4cKYQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/laura%2Bflare%2B1%2Bsnake%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Ej--CJZc5Y/YH1ahB5s-FI/AAAAAAAALwE/X5Eaqfyuq5glzjn8TjwD2vszJbtQdt9iQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Laura%2B1%2BSpider%2B2a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Ej--CJZc5Y/YH1ahB5s-FI/AAAAAAAALwE/X5Eaqfyuq5glzjn8TjwD2vszJbtQdt9iQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Laura%2B1%2BSpider%2B2a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div>And some extra renders to test out Daz's UltraScenery script. Turned out very well, I think. Forests and jungle environments are hard to make look right.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXz0nxMkt4g/YH1id37gwUI/AAAAAAAALwk/W9Wr3CNDx2EeocVy5WNtBTWRCqseW6o4QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Dino%2Bfight%2B1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fXz0nxMkt4g/YH1id37gwUI/AAAAAAAALwk/W9Wr3CNDx2EeocVy5WNtBTWRCqseW6o4QCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Dino%2Bfight%2B1a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jp3yuh1dCl4/YH1i32ah4bI/AAAAAAAALxE/igMSbUcWjcIDm8d1fycOo8ua-mxQ5xyAwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2BB%2BForest%2BGoblin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jp3yuh1dCl4/YH1i32ah4bI/AAAAAAAALxE/igMSbUcWjcIDm8d1fycOo8ua-mxQ5xyAwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2BB%2BForest%2BGoblin.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w5i-879tiz8/YH1i8KvPNZI/AAAAAAAALxI/KeiTA4x0R-wZn6s2gIryEqLbVJUI2V9RwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2BA%2BForest%2BGoblin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w5i-879tiz8/YH1i8KvPNZI/AAAAAAAALxI/KeiTA4x0R-wZn6s2gIryEqLbVJUI2V9RwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2BA%2BForest%2BGoblin.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>I might have posted these before, but if not, some of my early attempts at amputee morphs. Sort of a sequel to my old Black Widow caption, if Stark's improved implant technology is anything to go by.</div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1oulzsTLQ7I/YH1jBFvoMII/AAAAAAAALxM/1fuXBM0MVssNLSolCKNI0QCE2DbtwtNDgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BW%2Bimplants%2Bamputee%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1oulzsTLQ7I/YH1jBFvoMII/AAAAAAAALxM/1fuXBM0MVssNLSolCKNI0QCE2DbtwtNDgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/BW%2Bimplants%2Bamputee%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yRAkYqMIFe8/YH1sZVD-YlI/AAAAAAAALxc/_Nu_z3u6LVE6AID7JegkoKK_IoebWcS8wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/BW%2Bimplants%2Bamputee%2Bfloating.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; outline-width: 0px !important; user-select: auto !important;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yRAkYqMIFe8/YH1sZVD-YlI/AAAAAAAALxc/_Nu_z3u6LVE6AID7JegkoKK_IoebWcS8wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/BW%2Bimplants%2Bamputee%2Bfloating.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>And finally, a Hugh Jazz render to hopefully tide you all over until I can get back to the series.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ovfttVAEGqA/YH1uhrrBStI/AAAAAAAALxk/Xyfe_Pje4Yc___2wurJdVDbPfiBI1agsgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Mofo%2BJazz%2BGym%2BClass%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ovfttVAEGqA/YH1uhrrBStI/AAAAAAAALxk/Xyfe_Pje4Yc___2wurJdVDbPfiBI1agsgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Mofo%2BJazz%2BGym%2BClass%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Sorry again about the sudden hiatus, I will do my best to get some new captions out very soon. And a huge thanks to those of you who have been sending me emails and posting comments here in the last weeks, I appreciate it immensely.</div><div><br /></div><div>- B-Rex</div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-6698968314840944432021-02-05T14:24:00.004-08:002021-02-06T16:00:58.432-08:00Ticketed 9 (Edited)<p><b>(EDIT: Sorry, in my haste to post yesterday, I ended up skipping over two sections when I was copy-pasting the texts here. I had a lot of leftover notes in my word document I was trying to avoid posting with the real caption. Anyway, I have added the missing lines back in, in bold below.</b></p><p><b>I think this is probably the source of the confusion people are mentioning in the comments. I was trying to imply that Gemma is getting revenge on Jazz for his cheating on Tabitha back when they were dating.</b></p><p><b>Hopefully this clears things up.)</b></p><p>Greetings, everyone! I finally got the next installment of Ticketed finished, extra long this time too.</p><p>I hope you all enjoy it, and the renders too.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xwhn108oGdk/YB2uQRcVBUI/AAAAAAAALlI/t06YKrG7GAYaEfz01sJ_kCF994dxu7cawCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/JustDrawnThatWay%2Bvacuumed%2Bin%2B4%2Bpumped%2Bup%2B1b.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Xwhn108oGdk/YB2uQRcVBUI/AAAAAAAALlI/t06YKrG7GAYaEfz01sJ_kCF994dxu7cawCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/JustDrawnThatWay%2Bvacuumed%2Bin%2B4%2Bpumped%2Bup%2B1b.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">“</span><span style="font-size: medium; text-align: left;">So,
I could only find the bra, and I'm not sure it can stretch
enou—OHMYGAWD!!”</span></div>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tabitha stopped mid-stride, eyes
bugged out as she took in her ex-boyfriend's latest ordeal.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Get
me out of dis cwazy thing!!!”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She broke out laughing. “Oh,
shit, I must've forgot to reverse the air pump!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz struggled to reach around his
insanely oversized balloon breasts, filling the room with a chorus of
squeaks as the over-stretched latex rubbed against itself.<span></span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qJOXAHrre8Y/YB2u_NTHhnI/AAAAAAAALlg/FOelQ7Z2-SsUBH0m8WUuzisGwXacYTUcgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/JustDrawnThatWay%2Bvacuumed%2Bin%2B4%2Bpumped%2Bup.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qJOXAHrre8Y/YB2u_NTHhnI/AAAAAAAALlg/FOelQ7Z2-SsUBH0m8WUuzisGwXacYTUcgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/JustDrawnThatWay%2Bvacuumed%2Bin%2B4%2Bpumped%2Bup.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The instant his ex had left the
room, her air pump had inflated his suit to ridiculous proportions,
even as Gemma nearly fell out of bed laughing at him.</span></p></span><p></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I
swear I tried to turn it off, but he popped the tube free,” Gemma
managed, fighting to catch her breath. “And there's no way I'm
sticking it back up there!”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz gasped, still fighting to
hold his balloons in place. “GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!”</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Well,
at least we know it'll definitely stretch enough to fit those
gigantic juggs of yours, Jazzica,” Tabitha said, shaking her head
as she poked at the massive breasts, each finger sinking in to the
knuckle. “Luckily, this is easy enough to fix.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Before Jazz could protest, the
busty cosplayer spun him around, and reinserted the air hose.
“AHHH!!!”</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh,
shush, it's not that deep,” Tabitha scolded, flipping a switch on
the pump. Instantly the suit began to deflate around him, until it
was practically shrink-wrapped on his form.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz hated the way the suit had
felt inflated around him, but as it grew tighter, it was even worse.
He particularly hated the feel of the latex sliding between his
asscheeks, giving him the worse wedgie ever.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He glared at marketing
coordinator, who couldn't help but laugh at him as his assets shrank
down to their still ridiculous size.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Suddenly his suit's latex red
panties slid down his legs, the material stretched out far more than
it's natural elasticity allowed.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma snorted out another chuckle,
then shook her head. “Well, fun as this has been, I need to get
this dress to that seamstress of yours Tabitha, so I'll leave you two
to get things settled. Don't forget Jazzica, after you finish your
booth babe stint today, you're booked on a panel for this evening.”</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">As
if I could forget,</span></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
Jazz thought to himself, as his ex smoothed out a few remaining
airbubbles in his sex doll suit. </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">That's
the only reason I haven't dumped this whole stupid convention gig!</span></i></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh,
what's the topic?” Tabitha asked, forcing a final bubble to slide
down his side to be sucked away by the air pump. She plucked the hose
free again and finally turned the pump off.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz started to answer her, then
realized that he hadn't actually heard what the panel was supposed to
be about. He'd just assumed it would be a video game discussion,
maybe dealing with the pressures of being a modern livestream content
creator.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma just turned at the door, and
smiled. “Oh, didn't I say? The topic is 'The Hypersexualization of
the Female Form in Modern Gaming' or something like that. I thought
Jazzica would be the perfect fit.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She winked as his hypersexualized
curves bobbed around him, and Tabitha barked out a laugh.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">***</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tmSnkOd-0eQ/YB2vhdJ1BJI/AAAAAAAALlo/-YQeoa8bMjcj-_YOoCI4r7BYgpbSCo0nwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/sex%2Bdoll%2Bmirror%2B2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tmSnkOd-0eQ/YB2vhdJ1BJI/AAAAAAAALlo/-YQeoa8bMjcj-_YOoCI4r7BYgpbSCo0nwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/sex%2Bdoll%2Bmirror%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Hey
Tabs, when is--Wow, who's the hot babe?!”</span></p><p></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz nearly jumped out of his
ultra-tight second skin, as the booming voice erupted from the
doorway. He'd though Gemma was returning when the door burst back
open, but instead there was a massive man standing in the doorway,
leering in at him.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Rod!
You made it!” Tabitha cooed, urging the man over and hugging him.
She turned, remembering her nearly nude ex-boyfriend was in the room.
“Oh, uh, </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">Jazzica</span></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
meet Rodger Long, he's done a few cosplay shoots with me recently.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh,
we know each other from a bit more than that,” the giant said,
squeezing in beside Tabitha and wrapping an arm around her waist. </span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oddly, Jazz felt a pang of jealousy, especially when his ex giggled
at the meathead's treatment.</span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>Though mostly he was just shocked. Tabitha had broken up
with him when she caught him cheating on her, but he'd always known it was really because she couldn't handle his success and sudden fame when his gamer career took off.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;"><b>She'd taken the breakup badly, so much so that she'd gone into some sort of bizarre mid-twenties version of a mid-life crisis, as she rebranded herself from a casual cosplayer into some typical Boob-streamer, right down to the boobjob and overly-sexualized outfits. Given his recent subscriber growth, he'd expected her to come crawling back to him any day now.</b></span></p>
<p>
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>But starting at the giant beside her, it looked like she'd finally
gotten over him for good. He couldn't believe it.</b></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The man narrowed his eyes, looking Jazz up and down more closely. “Hey,
isn't that your sex dol--”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">It's
my 'Foxfire' character costume,” Tabitha said quickly, glowering
at him meaningfully. “Jazzica needed something that would fit
hi-er, </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">her
</span></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">unique
curves, and nothing else would do.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I
thought your 'Foxfire' cosplay outfit was in the dry-cleaners,”
Rod said, apparently ignorant of her glare. “Nah, that's definitely
that sex doll suit you wore for your Lonely Fans--”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Anyway,”
Tabitha said loudly, stomping her foot on Rod's, and smiling broadly
at Jazz. “When you had your little, uh... </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">wardrobe
malfunction</span></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
this morning, Rod here agreed to stand in for you at the convention
stand until we got you sorted out. He's been busy there all morning
showing attendees through that fake temple set of yours.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Uh...
fanks, I guess?” Jazz muttered weakly, wincing as his over-sized
tongue stud clicked loudly against his teeth. The huge man just
leered back at him, a predatory grin crossing his lips.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">No
problem, babe. Always glad to lend a hand. Or something else, if you
want it.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Jazz
involuntarily shuddered at the man's insinuations, but Tabitha
interrupted them before he could think of a response.</span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JZnrXQBBeAw/YB2v_6yxwZI/AAAAAAAALl0/79i2mC38gKwlf-sSjfsA-M4n1g0R_Hd4ACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Blowup%2BDoll%2Binflated%2Bsuit%2Bon%2B1%2Bplugged%2Bup%2B2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JZnrXQBBeAw/YB2v_6yxwZI/AAAAAAAALl0/79i2mC38gKwlf-sSjfsA-M4n1g0R_Hd4ACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/Blowup%2BDoll%2Binflated%2Bsuit%2Bon%2B1%2Bplugged%2Bup%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div><p>“<span style="font-size: medium;">Oh,
Jazzica would be happy to pay you back, I'm sure. Right, J? Oh, maybe
you could give him one of your golden tickets?” Not waiting for his
answer, she continued on. “Anyway, I figured you wouldn't mind a
little extra help showing conventiongoers around that fake temple
set of yours. Besides, you don't really look the part of the intrepid
explorer at the moment.”</span></p><p></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">She'd
fit in great at the Sextoy convention next week, though,” Rod
added, still leering at the latex-encased gamer.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Hey,
there's a thought, huh Jazz? Maybe Gemma will book you to come back?”
Tabitha smirked.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Uh...”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">***</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">I
think your next tour is about to begin, Jazzica,” Gemma said,
nodding at the growling line of conventiongoers. “Looks like word
got out since yesterday; maybe you should start doing them three at a
time. Good thing you have Rod to help you handle the load, huh?”</span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz grumbled something under his breath, but trudged off to take yet another tour of the puzzle-filled temple ruin. Rod was already waiting for him in the entrance, still leering with that predatory grin Jazz was growing to really, really hate....</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xnkTlmv7Hnk/YB3AJdBQS_I/AAAAAAAALmA/szWcy7MFHn0a5puRvwG_20Haql3TYp_eACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Jazzica%2BTemple%2B4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xnkTlmv7Hnk/YB3AJdBQS_I/AAAAAAAALmA/szWcy7MFHn0a5puRvwG_20Haql3TYp_eACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/Jazzica%2BTemple%2B4.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="color: black;"><span><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tabitha waited until her ex was out of
earshot, then broke out laughing.</span></p></span></span><p></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Oh My God, sis, I know you said
you'd get even with him, but... I mean, daaaammnn girl!!! I thought
when you talked him into pretend dating Lance you'd gone as far as
possible. But now you're just showing off.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma shrugged nonchalantly at her former sorority sister. “Oh,
it wasn't even hard. You know as well as anybody how easy it is
manipulate men like him. You do it everyday.”</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Guilty
as charged,” Tabitah admitted. “But there are limits to how far
you can push a guy before he refuses to go any further.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">This</span></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
from the woman who sells her used bathwater to simps online?
Puhlease, sis, there are no limits. You just have to take your time.
Ooh, speaking of,</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">”
Gemma said, pulling a few tickets out from under her plastic
breastplate and handing them over.</span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Tabitha's eyes widened as she read the tickets' descriptions.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh,
wow, you really think you can get him to do this?”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Sure,
I'm just saving them for the right moment. Hey, wanna few? I've got
tons of tickets. The idiot literally signed off on every hairbrained
suggestion his subscribers sent in. He's damned lucky he doesn't have
'Douchebag' tattooed across his face. Luckily I caught that ticket early on.”</span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></span></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black;"><b>“<span style="font-size: medium;">Hey, I added that suggestion!" Tabitha hissed in mock anger, then laughed. "But seriously though, you know he only got into streaming because of me, right? He got so jealous of my streams... At first I
thought it was because of the guys who kept sending me money and gifts during my shows, but I
think he was really just mad about all the attention I was getting.
He was certain that he could do better than me, that my streams were
just typical 'Twitch Thot hijinks', or whatever he called it.”</span></b></span></p><p><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>She sighed, watching as her ex struggled to push through the growing line of gawkers waiting for their own tours of his temple set.</b></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>"The worst part of it is that the bastard was sort of right. I mean, his gaming streams sure blew up a lot faster than my cosplay ever did, at least before I got these." Tabitha gestured down at her silicone-enhanced breasts, and sighed again. "And then the asshole started getting tail on the side, the slut. I should've dumped him ages earlier than I did..."</b></span></span></p><p><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Gemma cut in, before her old sorority friend could beat herself up "Well, you've certainly moved on. That Rod is a hunk! Though maybe letting him spend the day with Jazzica's new derriere wasn't the smartest idea you ever had, sis."</b></span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>At her words the cosplayer turned around, and broke out in giggles at the sight.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>Rod was copping a feel of Jazz's own silicone enhanced assets, as the latex-coated man tried to talk two conventiongoers through the set's first simple puzzle, while futilely fending off the much larger man's gropes.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;"><b>She frowned, as her current boyfriend gave her ex-boyfriend's ass a hard smack, sending the smaller man gasping as they disappeared into the faux temple complex.</b></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Say, speaking of
tattoos; I can't help but notice he's very protective of that
gigantic rump of his. What's he got tattooed there?”</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Let's
just say that when it's time to show it off, I've got my 'Release the
Kraken' hashtags ready to go. He's going to be really popular in Japan.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tabitha laughed, as Gemma showed
her a picture on her phone. “My Gawd, you <i>are</i> mean!”</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Hey,
that one was entirely Lance's fault; I just wrote the ticket.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The buxom redhead sipped her
drink, thinking. “You know what, I was chatting with Lance on the
way down the elevator earlier this morning. I think I might just be able to one-up
your little pile,” she said, gesturing to the golden tickets Gemma
had shown her.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh?
I'd like to see you try.” Gemma said, smugly.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Want
to bet?”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma considered. “Okay, who
judges?”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Now it was Tabitha's turn to
think. “Hmm... I'm probably setting myself up for a biased
decision, but your marketing team knows about your plans, right?”</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh,
yes. Well, most of them, anyway.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Good.
We'll let them decide after I make my move.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">And
what are we betting?” Gemma asked her sorority sister.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tabitha only laughed.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“I know
you always hated my getting breast implants. So if I lose, I'll
get them removed.” Gemma's eyes widened, as a smile crossed her
lips. </span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“However,” Tabitha added quickly. “Should I win, you
will get a set of fake hooters to match mine. No, strike that, I want
you to go at least a cupsize larger. Even if it takes a few
operations. And don't act like you can't afford them.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma started to argue, then
sighed, and nodded. The two women shook hands on the bet, just as as a very
out-of-breath Jazz returned, golden egg ensconced between his own
ridiculously fake breasts, as Rod walked behind him, eyes never wandering north of the latex-enthroned gamer's gigantic ass. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He chugged down a water bottle,
then hurried back to the waiting line of people, to start yet another
tour.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As soon as he was gone, Gemma
leaned over. “So, what's your plan, if you're so confident.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tabitha leaned into her ear, and
whispered.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">After a moment, Gemma groaned.
“Damn it, you <i>are</i> devious.” She glanced down at her chest, and
winced. “I think I'm going to need to do some shopping....”</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">*****</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Hope you all enjoyed the new installment. I decided to go a slightly different direction with Gemma and Tabitha than originally planned, but I think it works.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I've also got another caption finished for a new superhero themed series that I've been holding back on due to a lack of good pictures, but my rendering skills have developed enough that I'm confident I can make the images I need now.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: left; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">- B-Rex</span></span></p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-9877473486780784742021-01-29T21:06:00.001-08:002021-01-29T21:06:20.561-08:00Extreme<p>Greetings all! Here's a quick caption with a game show theme.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8a1ZPk2CMw4/YBTjxXRTyoI/AAAAAAAALiY/MmXHUE-8ewYMNtZM1wyNzVjw92SVZ_WMgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1885/Options_cap1a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1885" height="340" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8a1ZPk2CMw4/YBTjxXRTyoI/AAAAAAAALiY/MmXHUE-8ewYMNtZM1wyNzVjw92SVZ_WMgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h340/Options_cap1a.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p></p><p>I've been working on RSB3 now that I'm feeling a bit better (I'm thinking of posting some of it on the Patreon, the early parts that are more edited), hence the game show topic of today's caption.</p><p>I've also got most of the next Ticketed installment finished, so should have that posted here soon too.</p><p>Finally, I've been testing out some ideas for rendering, learning how to add God Rays (the beams of light you see in dusty rooms) and such. Thought I'd try to might make for a new cover image for my old Laura Krauff ebook, and as usual with me, ended up making a new bad ending for her.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-22p67gW02rc/YBTm3oEPHdI/AAAAAAAALik/GG02-8fvI7IlKrlB2M8LUI-_mSajLuLYgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Djinni%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-22p67gW02rc/YBTm3oEPHdI/AAAAAAAALik/GG02-8fvI7IlKrlB2M8LUI-_mSajLuLYgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/Djinni%2B1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5dDA0ilz5Ug/YBTm3nYg32I/AAAAAAAALio/pkapWE6zGFcr5Fegi6v3CHWVv_pWd0pGgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Djinni%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5dDA0ilz5Ug/YBTm3nYg32I/AAAAAAAALio/pkapWE6zGFcr5Fegi6v3CHWVv_pWd0pGgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/Djinni%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I89rA-i-QUY/YBTm99Jf4FI/AAAAAAAALiw/qHeWZdcRN84J6C342pBvBHaFzBUbUStpgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Djinni%2B3a.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-I89rA-i-QUY/YBTm99Jf4FI/AAAAAAAALiw/qHeWZdcRN84J6C342pBvBHaFzBUbUStpgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/Djinni%2B3a.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xGnomfJoQTg/YBTm3v9YYzI/AAAAAAAALis/0j8Ao9TfTNsRcb6qX-H7MR_jTayCIjZwQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Djinni%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; outline-width: 0px !important; user-select: auto !important;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xGnomfJoQTg/YBTm3v9YYzI/AAAAAAAALis/0j8Ao9TfTNsRcb6qX-H7MR_jTayCIjZwQCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/Djinni%2B3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p><p>Hope you all enjoy the new work, hopefully I'll have more coming soon. And a big thanks to all of you who have sent me well wishes and advice about blood pressure issues.</p><p>- B-Rex</p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-75891830833537144912021-01-21T19:44:00.004-08:002021-01-21T20:15:17.275-08:00Midnight Surgeon: Fleshlight's New Voice<p>Greetings everybody, I'm finally back! Sorry once again for these long absences lately, I've just had a very difficult time focusing on anything when I try to write.</p><p>I've finally been to a doctor and it seems part of my problem may be high blood pressure, and some blood sugar issues that are getting worse as I get older, which is probably why I'm having trouble getting over this. I've got some pills I'm testing out that seem to be helping get my levels down to a normal point again, and hopefully that will also help me get past this mental funk I've been dealing with all winter.</p><p>Anyway, I'm sorry again that I've missed my weekly caption deadline these last few months, so to try and get the new year back on track, here's a new Midnight Surgeon caption.</p><p>This is a follow-up to the <a href="https://degradeddamsels.blogspot.com/2020/06/fleshlight-upgrades.html">last Fleshlight caption</a>, that I actually thought I'd finished and posted months ago, but apparently I never actually finished it. Better late than never.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6FL0HkJcs98/YApH_e2vsVI/AAAAAAAALhk/8NYZvyczRR0RIRbmeDE0qQ0h_ChM8a1LACLcBGAsYHQ/s2278/FleshlightsNewVoice_cap1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="934" data-original-width="2278" height="262" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6FL0HkJcs98/YApH_e2vsVI/AAAAAAAALhk/8NYZvyczRR0RIRbmeDE0qQ0h_ChM8a1LACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h262/FleshlightsNewVoice_cap1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p>The caption was pretty long, so in case it isn't easy to read, here's the full text as well:</p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: helvetica;"></span></p><blockquote><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Fleshlight awoke slowly, feeling sore and used. Her body was coated in congealing jism, and something seemed to be pumping into her pussy.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She sighed; it was a pretty normal morning for her.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of course, it might have been midnight for all she knew; her home was a small unfinished room somewhere in the fraternity. She'd never seen a window in her entire time here, which was itself a mystery. She might've been living there for a few months or a year or more, she really didn't know.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Fleshlight wracked her mind, only vaguely remembering the fratboys having an intense gangbang session with her sex-toy body the last time she'd been awake. Even that wasn't particularly unusual. Since her Owner had sold her to the boys, her every waking moment had revolved around being fucked hard by her perpetually horny new owners.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sighing, she forced her eyes open, wincing as a layer of drying cum give way, tugging painfully on her eyelashes. Her gaze fell on the man using her this morning, and... Owner!!!</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Oh good, you're finally awake,” the Midnight Surgeon said, and suddenly Fleshlight realized what else was different; she could hear!</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">For countless weeks her ears had been filled with the nonstop rambling of her own voice, reading out the bizarre biography her Owner had written for her, constantly filling her head with his personal philosophy, and endless self-references to herself as a living sex toy. She'd struggled to hold on to her identity, carefully repeating her mental mantra every time she awoke: I am NOT a sex toy. I am a woman.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It had worked, to Fleshlight's relief. Despite the constant repetitions of her Owner's book in her head, she'd never forgotten that she was a real woman, and not just another of the frat's pile of used sex toys and ruined sex dolls that shared her room.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Oh, yeah, I turned off your cochlear implants. I figured even you were getting a bit tired of hearing yourself talk,” her Owner said, removing his cock from her pussy. He zipped up his pants, and began digging through a bag. “Plus I figured you'd want to chat a bit. Happy to see me?”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She nodded frantically, praying her Owner was finally, truly here to take her away. I'll be the best toy ever, she pleaded silently, kicking herself for not fucking him back earlier. If only she'd awoken sooner, and realized who was using her!</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">He pulled something from the bag, and reached out for her face. She frowned as she saw the object; it looked like a tongue stud, except it was huge!</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She gasped as he grabbed her tongue, and pushed the oversized jewelry into place. “I pierced your lower lip,” he explained, as she felt the stud slide through her newest piercing. “And there we go, how's it feel?”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Fleshlight turned her head about, feeling stupid with her mouth open and tongue hanging out. Her mouth had been locked open for so long she'd forgotten what it felt like to have it closed, but as she started to withdraw her tongue, it refused to cooperate. Suddenly she realized the truth; the stud had effectively locked her tongue sticking out like some panting puppy.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Instinctively she tried to moan, her long-removed vocal cords refusing to make more than a mild hiss of alarm.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Calm down, Fleshlight,” the surgeon chided, flicking the strangely oversized stud with a finger. “You'll get used to it soon. Now, let's see if it works...”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">He pulled a small remote from his bag, and clicked it at her face.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Hello sir! Fleshlight loves being a sex toy! Can you fuck Fleshlight's face hole? It's empty and Fleshlight hates when her holes aren't being of use!”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Fleshlight gasped! There were words, coming out of her mouth!</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Oh good, it works.” The surgeon tapped a button on the remote, and grinned down at her shocked face. “Your new owners wanted me to add some 'upgrades' to their favorite toy. I'll spare you the details, but you've got a thousand micro-sensors embedded all over your tits, lips, and in your orifices.” He squeezed one of her jugs, hard, and tapped his remote again.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Ooooh, that feels so good, Sir! Fleshlight loves to have her titties squeezed hard!!”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">He smirked, as her mouth stopped talking again. “Your new stud has a speaker built into it, as you can hear.” He gestured behind him, and she finally noticed a new laptop propped up against the wall of her small room. “I've got an AI running on that, which should auto-generate your new phrases to match the data from your sensors.”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Oh Sir, Fleshlight loves what you've done to improve Fleshlight! Now Fleshlight is perfect!!” Fleshlight's new voice gushed with an intense enthusiasm.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Best of all, once the boys have each taken a turn with you, I'll be able to finish calibrating the software. Soon your sensors will be able to tell who is doing what to you, and keep a running record of what's been done to you. I figure with how naturally competitive the boys are, they'll be fighting to see who uses your holes the most. And your new voice will be there to encourage and egg them on all the while. Doesn't that sound like fun?”</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Somewhere deep down in the mutilated former woman, a small part of her tortured mind shivered at the implications. But her voice answered for her.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">“Oh Sir, Fleshlight can't wait to become the best sex toy ever!! Fleshlight has come three times from her pussy today, and only once from her asshole!! Please help Fleshlight's super tight balloon-knot catch up!! And don't forget Fleshlight's super fuckable face hole!!”</span></p><div></div></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HgkrgEQIdN8/YApJHTDqkMI/AAAAAAAALh0/z-49Uv7mBzsZnu8gglRHqkSzVnJDXnPMwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1660/Fleshlight%2BMorph%2B2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="934" data-original-width="1660" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HgkrgEQIdN8/YApJHTDqkMI/AAAAAAAALh0/z-49Uv7mBzsZnu8gglRHqkSzVnJDXnPMwCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/Fleshlight%2BMorph%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><br /></div>And a bonus morph that I made some time ago:<div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jAdrqn66q3g/YApJHGoAE9I/AAAAAAAALhw/AFrf2L2vV_wWp0vrYz-xX_HtjJaOfS1kgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1920/Fleshlight_morph1.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="225" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jAdrqn66q3g/YApJHGoAE9I/AAAAAAAALhw/AFrf2L2vV_wWp0vrYz-xX_HtjJaOfS1kgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h225/Fleshlight_morph1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>As always, thanks for being patient with me these last several months, and hopefully this year will better for everybody,</div></div><div><br /></div><div>- B-Rex</div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-14088215719389818412020-12-31T19:33:00.003-08:002020-12-31T19:33:24.175-08:00Happy New Years!<p>Greetings everyone, and a happy New Years!</p><p>Sorry that I haven't posted this month, and missed Christmas entirely. I thought I'd be able to get some more stuff finished in time, but writing just isn't working for me right now, I can't seem to focus enough.</p><p>Still, I can set up renders and have been doing a lot of that. I'm improving my 3D art ability I think (hopefully you all agree). So in the spirit of New Years Resolutions, I thought I'd post some of the stuff I'm planning for next year, as a preview of things to come. And some one-offs I'd normally save for the Patreon.</p><p>Can't remember if I posted this already, but here's a little something I made as reference to one of my favorite DeviantArt artists, Shiniez: (<a href="https://www.deviantart.com/shiniez/art/anne-is-just-downright-evil-272534398">Relevant Link</a>)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V1BcyT5qvoI/X-5YspatwZI/AAAAAAAALYw/VI_c-kVQOook_a-URBp2-73a-GSxTD0XACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/shiniez%2BMath%2BChallenge%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V1BcyT5qvoI/X-5YspatwZI/AAAAAAAALYw/VI_c-kVQOook_a-URBp2-73a-GSxTD0XACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/shiniez%2BMath%2BChallenge%2B1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>A few more petgirl renders, following on from the previous set I posted <a href="http://degradeddamsels.blogspot.com/2020/11/little-caption-contest.html">here</a> last month...</div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7JXJTQrIzK8/X-5rdgxEyAI/AAAAAAAALZk/nKN2-WzZ2QIzutO2NM7m6_m31awMNSgogCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/petgirl%2Bback%2Byard.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7JXJTQrIzK8/X-5rdgxEyAI/AAAAAAAALZk/nKN2-WzZ2QIzutO2NM7m6_m31awMNSgogCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/petgirl%2Bback%2Byard.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A game of fetch</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NqVxdVKDnCI/X-5rdqJNrAI/AAAAAAAALZg/k7ePr4JTtcs3VcmIhE4sNwV-nluQJWAAACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/petgirl%2Bback%2Byard%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NqVxdVKDnCI/X-5rdqJNrAI/AAAAAAAALZg/k7ePr4JTtcs3VcmIhE4sNwV-nluQJWAAACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/petgirl%2Bback%2Byard%2B3.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meeting the neighbors</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>And a short sequence to test out a few new condom props and maybe the start of a future caption series...</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SktrWk4Okx4/X-5YtjTE-uI/AAAAAAAALY0/lRYbHyVHvEkXvH0G0WoulE1D82KDyWBWQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/shrink%2Bshrank%2Bshrunk%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SktrWk4Okx4/X-5YtjTE-uI/AAAAAAAALY0/lRYbHyVHvEkXvH0G0WoulE1D82KDyWBWQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/shrink%2Bshrank%2Bshrunk%2B1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bYO_yaq4h04/X-5YtxmD0nI/AAAAAAAALY4/gF5VfYMxFagMD6Hwo1fqJgzY6nqXDd4KgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/shrink%2Bshrank%2Bshrunk%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bYO_yaq4h04/X-5YtxmD0nI/AAAAAAAALY4/gF5VfYMxFagMD6Hwo1fqJgzY6nqXDd4KgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/shrink%2Bshrank%2Bshrunk%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5flvk122O0/X-5YuBUj41I/AAAAAAAALY8/-R4m0Zg2DUM3XPt4kpySEmsHxi3SALsywCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/shrink%2Bshrank%2Bshrunk%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m5flvk122O0/X-5YuBUj41I/AAAAAAAALY8/-R4m0Zg2DUM3XPt4kpySEmsHxi3SALsywCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/shrink%2Bshrank%2Bshrunk%2B3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>When I finally get around to finishing my <a href="http://degradeddamsels.blogspot.com/2019/10/maedeths-ruin.html#comment-form">Maedeth's Ruin</a> work-in-progress story (which I posted over a year ago now), I'm hoping to make a set of renders to fit my vision of her, uh, 'adventures' with the orcs and goblins. I had to hold off because I couldn't get several genital and sex toy props to work, but I've recently figured out how to properly load them into Daz Studio, and this is the result.</p><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dhn9zK-YHIo/X-5qHzBCnxI/AAAAAAAALZU/Ur3CHVw7cp8ijasiZtUvUkb5F9BrINkGwCLcBGAsYHQ/Elf%2Bbimbo%2B1.jpg"><img alt="" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="180" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-dhn9zK-YHIo/X-5qHzBCnxI/AAAAAAAALZU/Ur3CHVw7cp8ijasiZtUvUkb5F9BrINkGwCLcBGAsYHQ/Elf%2Bbimbo%2B1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uu-0Ap9Iv90/X-5XW-1-7LI/AAAAAAAALYQ/l7seHs8mmQMCi-uDx6CLuqr0zNRNUjdwgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uu-0Ap9Iv90/X-5XW-1-7LI/AAAAAAAALYQ/l7seHs8mmQMCi-uDx6CLuqr0zNRNUjdwgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2B1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8MS1msXVbSE/X-5XWzFOfZI/AAAAAAAALYM/Vzw1i8p9xewThiR1T_Y_7yMntfKKiGkcQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8MS1msXVbSE/X-5XWzFOfZI/AAAAAAAALYM/Vzw1i8p9xewThiR1T_Y_7yMntfKKiGkcQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ld03uI9Afv4/X-5snYSgY3I/AAAAAAAALZ4/I0-dnk-mBMI6cG79xScdmHmUfBvobjSJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2B3b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ld03uI9Afv4/X-5snYSgY3I/AAAAAAAALZ4/I0-dnk-mBMI6cG79xScdmHmUfBvobjSJQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2B3b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q_Yt0-JRWAc/X-5XW2hF6gI/AAAAAAAALYI/mTxPXhzkN-w63pleUJsZn_numYQkhu7hgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q_Yt0-JRWAc/X-5XW2hF6gI/AAAAAAAALYI/mTxPXhzkN-w63pleUJsZn_numYQkhu7hgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Maedeth%2527s%2BRuin%2B3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>I also have a lot of Ticketed images finished, but don't want to spoil them just yet, so I'll save them for when the captions/story parts are finished writing. Hope no one minds too badly.</p><p>Well, maybe one spoiler isn't too bad, ;-)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e7PlBtZck2w/X-6ExVk_MMI/AAAAAAAALaE/7-hTFufER9saQEWlRbiV3vsyWsDn_p4FgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/JustDrawnThatWay%2Bvacuumed%2Bin%2B4%2Bpumped%2Bup%2B1b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-e7PlBtZck2w/X-6ExVk_MMI/AAAAAAAALaE/7-hTFufER9saQEWlRbiV3vsyWsDn_p4FgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/JustDrawnThatWay%2Bvacuumed%2Bin%2B4%2Bpumped%2Bup%2B1b.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;"><span style="text-align: left;">A huge thanks to everyone for being patient with me, usually these winter depression spells pass faster than this, but I think this year's just been too much of a strain on my nerves with the virus and lockdowns, and losing several family members, some unexpectedly.</span></div><p>A very belated Merry Christmas to you all, and a very Happy New Years! Hopefully next year is a lot better for everyone, and more productive for me as well.</p><p>- B-Rex</p></div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-56188914886249912402020-11-27T20:40:00.004-08:002020-11-27T20:46:50.551-08:00Ticketed 8<p>Happy Black Friday, everyone!</p><p>I'm still dealing with some mood issues, but trying to work my way through it. This would be a lot longer and more detailed, but I really just can't focus properly. Hopefully it will still be fun for you all, though. I have a lot more stuff planned out, right up to the ending of this unexpectedly long series. But it'll be several more episodes before we get to the ending.</p><p>Thank you all for being patient with me. Usually my Vitamin D overdose fixes my seasonal depression, but this is a pretty trying year, and it seems I need a bit more. Oddly, writing actually helps, anything creative really, but it's hard to stay focused long enough to finish anything.</p><p>- B-Rex</p><p>P.S. Oh, and by the way, all of the renders I'm posting with these Ticketed posts are full-sized. They're pretty large, if you open them in a separate window. I rendered at 4K resolution, I think.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uoWb4p7RIEc/X8HSz-1XS4I/AAAAAAAALQw/lTrZTgNB6QooxOkL6BgO_jx0zMrG8PmugCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Sex%2BDoll%2Bcloseup%2B1%2Bwet.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uoWb4p7RIEc/X8HSz-1XS4I/AAAAAAAALQw/lTrZTgNB6QooxOkL6BgO_jx0zMrG8PmugCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/Sex%2BDoll%2Bcloseup%2B1%2Bwet.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;">“</span><span>I can't believe he destroyed
his dress! One little fall, and--” Gemma made a 'ripping'
noise, sighing as she dropped the ruined sequin garment. “I spent
all night picking it out, too.”<span></span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Tabitha Kolmes patted her on the
knee, comfortingly.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Don't worry, dear. Just take
the dress to that address I gave you, and she'll have it fixed in
time for James' big panel debut tonight. Us cosplayers use her all
the time, trust me. She does great work.”</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Tabitha removed her wig,
and shook out her natural red-blonde locks.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“You know, I'd heard
rumors about James' latest publicity stunt, but I'm surprised to see
he's jumping into the cosplay market. He used to make so much fun of me for dressing up for my streams, too.” She chuckled at the memory.</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, we're calling him 'Jazzica'
now.”</span></span></p>
<p align="JUSTIFY" style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Really? Oh, that's sooo cute! I
love that!!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Gemma nodded, picking up the
discarded wig and shaking it around in her gloved hands. “Speaking
of costumes, you're sure you have something that'll fit him? Assuming
he ever gets out of the bath, I mean? He's pretty, uh, endowed at the
moment?”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She wiggled her other gloved hand,
the long rubber claws startlingly sharp. At least they had plenty of
room for her client's new nails.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Well, it's more of an
experimental outfit, I've only worn it once. I was trying to create
my own character, and... well, it's not very comfortable to wear,
honestly. Especially in the ass. And it'll be even tighter on that
amazing rump he's sporting these days! But it's all I have that can
stretch enough to cover his gigantic--”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">DESE TITS ARE IMPOSSIBLE!!!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Both woman turned to see the naked
gamer dripping suds, fresh out of the bathroom.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">James, I told you to cover
everything in soap! I'll never be able to fit the costume over your
chest--”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Dey're too big! I camp weach!!”
Hugh Jazz snapped back at his ex-girlfriend, dripping suds over her
hotel room floor. His mostly dry fake boobs bobbed before him, as if
in agreement.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, you have <i>other</i>
tattoos?! Oooh, let me see,” Tabitha squealed excitedly, staring at
his groin. Jazz spun away, covering his shame best he could. His ex
chuckled, then waved the matter off. “Never mind, I'm sure I can
find pics online--”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, I have tons, don't worry!”
Gemma interrupted quickly, smiling as she waggled the red wig around
a finger claw.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Tabitha grinned, as Jazz winced.
“Anyway, we need to get you into your new costume, so you can get
back to the convention.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">He sighed, shivering in the room's
cool air, as the cosplay streamer dug in a box for a minute, before
yanking out... something?</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J9asRTtNWtM/X8HTJjjHcYI/AAAAAAAALQ4/VVvEZ-O2qmsL2t0Twwo3-YU2XmN0Yzq8wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Sex%2Bdoll%2Bcloseup%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J9asRTtNWtM/X8HTJjjHcYI/AAAAAAAALQ4/VVvEZ-O2qmsL2t0Twwo3-YU2XmN0Yzq8wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/Sex%2Bdoll%2Bcloseup%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">What duh hell if dat?!”</span></span></p><p></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Tabitha held up the floppy,
plastic catsuit. “The only thing I have that might, <i>might</i>
fit over those giant silicone juggs of yours, James.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He stared at the bizarre skintight
costume, disbelieving his eyes. “But... it's a fuc—er, a sex
doll!!!” </span></span>
</span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Hey, good eye! Yeah, I made it
out of a used blowup doll. In fact, remember that time I walked in on
you in the dorms and you were bouncing on--”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Jazz's eyes widened in horror, as
he suddenly recognized the altered latex doll dangling from his ex's
hand.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Okay, TMI!” Gemma spurted,
disgusted.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Anyway, after you dumped me,”
Tabitha continued, glaring up at her former boyfriend. “One of your
frat brothers gave me a box of junk you left behind at the Frat. And
low and behold, there she was sitting on top a stack of porn mags and
old socks.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She shrugged, flopping the suit on
to the hotel bed. “Anyway, you know how I hate to waste perfectly
good latex, half my outfits are made of the stuff. It's a bit tight,
but she's not popped yet. But then, you know just how tough this skin
is, don't you, Jazzica?”</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V0JCJM5fP5I/X8HTSNGQpTI/AAAAAAAALQ8/yZPvNf4tRmcLujD8Co5qwd9oIrIUGXcowCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/123456a.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V0JCJM5fP5I/X8HTSNGQpTI/AAAAAAAALQ8/yZPvNf4tRmcLujD8Co5qwd9oIrIUGXcowCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/123456a.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">***</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">So, first we'll pump the suit
up to warm up the latex. Then we can work on shimmying you into this
thing.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Jazz watched in mounting horror,
and Gemma in growing fascination, as the tiny air pump inflated the
costume.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Do-do-does id have ta be
imfwated... up dere?”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Tabitha frowned, then mentally
translated the gamer's mangled words. “Oh, you mean up it's butt?
Yeah, it's weird, but I needed somewhere to put the injection port
and I didn't want it to be visible. Don't worry, there's a hidden
zipper in the back, you can get in through there.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">She laughed, earning a smirk from
Gemma. Jazz just sighed, somewhat relieved.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">That should do it,” his ex
said a minute later, unzipping the back. The suit deflated instantly,
but she didn't move to remove the air tube. She followed his eyes,
then laughed. “Oh, don't worry about that. Once we get the suit on
you I can use the pump to suck out any remaining air. It'll be
skintight then.”</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VbOGD1b1YGo/X8HTiZc8PXI/AAAAAAAALRI/DQc_5F500Cs2KtY7altIEZQuIaGRAnLLgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Blowup%2BDoll%2Binflated%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VbOGD1b1YGo/X8HTiZc8PXI/AAAAAAAALRI/DQc_5F500Cs2KtY7altIEZQuIaGRAnLLgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/Blowup%2BDoll%2Binflated%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Several minutes of struggling
later, the three had somehow managed to get the hyper-buxom man into
the costume. It was amazingly tight, and that was before Tabitha
turned the pump on again.</span></p></span></span><p></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">I've got some more pieces to
this outfit, but they're in my other boxes. I'll run down to the car
and be back in a jiffy. Just stand there and let the pump do it's
thing, Jazzica.” She blew him a mocking kiss, then headed out, as
the air pump buzzed away.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Well, she seems nice, nothing
like you said she was,” Gemma said, sliding the plastic gloves onto
his hands, careful not to break any of his new nails. “Hey, maybe
you two could hook up again, after all this?”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black; font-family: georgia;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">I'd rather date Lance again,”
Jazz declared, sullenly.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">***</span></span></p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-61332803331707428562020-11-10T02:17:00.021-08:002020-11-10T03:26:07.151-08:00Little Petgirl Sequence<p>Hello all, I have a few days off, finally, and am hard at work writing. In the meantime, I thought I'd post something to wet your appetites, and as a sort of celebration of reaching 10 million views on the blog! Well, very nearly 10 million, anyway.</p><p>I've been playing around in Daz over the weekend, trying my hand at creating some amputated limbs, and ended up making a short sequence. I haven't really figured out a caption/story to go with it yet. Probably something about a rather snobby patient who the orderlies get tired of pampering and start to treat like the bitchy little girl she is.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3cxRpSWwXCM/X6pmtvN8ifI/AAAAAAAALLM/AIG27xOWtXY7l0UcuRetsfxHc6Ik37vfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/amputated%2B1%2Benema.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3cxRpSWwXCM/X6pmtvN8ifI/AAAAAAAALLM/AIG27xOWtXY7l0UcuRetsfxHc6Ik37vfgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/amputated%2B1%2Benema.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RKxCyFxfQnc/X6pmspjUaxI/AAAAAAAALLE/FjbMvyB9EpwjNrVIeKQtlQ3bS5yq4ThxACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/amputated%2B1%2Benema%2B2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RKxCyFxfQnc/X6pmspjUaxI/AAAAAAAALLE/FjbMvyB9EpwjNrVIeKQtlQ3bS5yq4ThxACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/amputated%2B1%2Benema%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_2oxthR03Hs/X6pmskiK6oI/AAAAAAAALLA/FwYlsvAnwP46mOrI0nGh6fL2M-nKSmpSwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/amputated%2B1%2Benema%2B3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_2oxthR03Hs/X6pmskiK6oI/AAAAAAAALLA/FwYlsvAnwP46mOrI0nGh6fL2M-nKSmpSwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/amputated%2B1%2Benema%2B3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nyLOeykuArA/X6pmsqgcFHI/AAAAAAAALLI/z76mYFfZba0joH7dCd0BF6BvpQf1PMHKACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/amputated%2B1%2Benema%2B4.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nyLOeykuArA/X6pmsqgcFHI/AAAAAAAALLI/z76mYFfZba0joH7dCd0BF6BvpQf1PMHKACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/amputated%2B1%2Benema%2B4.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6GuMoZTTUvo/X6pmutPoNlI/AAAAAAAALLQ/M_rvV7FL3CsyIZpQw9pcEdQ6wDleGeAHgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/pet%2Bprincess%2Bcage%2B2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6GuMoZTTUvo/X6pmutPoNlI/AAAAAAAALLQ/M_rvV7FL3CsyIZpQw9pcEdQ6wDleGeAHgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/pet%2Bprincess%2Bcage%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NOtP0y1JGss/X6pmuutLAjI/AAAAAAAALLU/lZ23mn7Dm6A_ZSXQuHZhcPauLDmKsornACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/pet%2Bprincess%2Bcage%2B3.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NOtP0y1JGss/X6pmuutLAjI/AAAAAAAALLU/lZ23mn7Dm6A_ZSXQuHZhcPauLDmKsornACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/pet%2Bprincess%2Bcage%2B3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Just a fun, short little sequence. Hope you all enjoy it, and I'll try to have a real caption up again soon.</p><p>Oh, and sorry if anyone tried to comment on the latest post, I was inundated with a fresh wave of spam comments and had to turn comments off for a bit. I have reset things, and right now anyone should be able to post comments again. We'll see how the spammers get on.</p><p>Also, Kandi is having a <a href="https://thekandishoppe.blogspot.com/2020/11/contest.html"><b>caption contest</b></a> involving resumes and girlish careers. Feel free to participate, and give her new blog some much needed traffic.</p><p>- B-Rex</p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-42129908855370398852020-11-06T21:04:00.005-08:002020-11-06T21:04:40.669-08:00Stretch Goals<p>Hello all! Sorry I've been gone so long, I've been very busy with work. I really wanted to get my next Ticketed installment up for Halloween. But honestly, I've been in a bit of a funk the last few weeks, emotionally. I just can't seem to focus on writing very much. Seems to happen this time of year a lot, despite fall being my favorite season. I may be deficient in vitamin D.</p><p>Still, despite all that, I have gotten some stuff finished, including a few new photomanipulations and lots of renders in Daz. I've got some fun caption ideas for the new morphs, so those might be up here soon.</p><p>Anyway, enough about my troubles. Today's caption is a shorter one, but better to get something out for you all, and I'm happy with how it turned out.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8mmcKn7HGvI/X6YoLyCve8I/AAAAAAAALKU/TF9dms15Jes84D1NO2K__AXxYzWpi5GTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1152/StretchGoals_cap1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1152" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8mmcKn7HGvI/X6YoLyCve8I/AAAAAAAALKU/TF9dms15Jes84D1NO2K__AXxYzWpi5GTQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/StretchGoals_cap1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p>Plus it's nice to finally complete a proper captioned image again. Thanks to you all for being patient and continuing to check in here for new posts. I'll try to get back into the writing groove soon, I promise.</p><p>- B-Rex</p><p></p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-87866528423776302542020-10-09T18:38:00.001-07:002020-10-09T18:38:27.759-07:00Ticketed 7<p> Greetings all and happy Friday.</p><p>I've missed a few posts of late, so I wanted to give you all an extra long entry to try and make up for it. This is about 3,000 words long, 8-10 pages. I spent way longer than I'd like to admit on the renders for this, especially the first one, but I'm pleased with how it all turned out. Might replace the first one with a sharper, smaller version once it finishes rendering tomorrow.</p><p>I really hope you all enjoy this installment, and don't worry, I've got more coming. I decided to end on a cliffhanger, but I've got more written for the next scene.</p><p>- B-Rex</p><h3 style="text-align: center;">Ticketed 7: Raiders of Jazz's Temple</h3><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_bl3lYw8wqo/X4D7WaEmQTI/AAAAAAAALFo/aNUNvH8dasMYklEgcnKHOvH4osTpcXgNACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Jazz%2BTemple%2BRaider1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_bl3lYw8wqo/X4D7WaEmQTI/AAAAAAAALFo/aNUNvH8dasMYklEgcnKHOvH4osTpcXgNACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Jazz%2BTemple%2BRaider1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><p><span style="font-size: large;">Being a booth bimbo was even worse
than he'd feared.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p>
</p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Just a few hours in to his latest
ordeal and Hugh Jazz Mofo's gigantic ass was already aching from the constant
pinches and gropes from passersby --- and he was increasingly
regretting agreeing to take souvenir photos with each 'fan' after
finishing their personal tour through the elaborate Jungle-temple set
the gaming company had installed in the convention floor.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The temple set was impressive,
admittedly. But it was also definitely not built for someone with
twenty pounds of silicone hanging from their chest!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To his constant annoyance, every
puzzle in the temple required him to climb up to one platform and
jump to another, in order to activate a switch or act as a
counterweight to open a door to the next section. The set wasn't very
long, thankfully, but he was getting really tired of finishing each
puzzle by asking his latest 'fan' to help pop his tits back into his
top.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He was actually quite surprised
how well the glue was holding on, though. Despite hundreds of jumps,
and near-endless sloshing about, his silicone wonders hadn't loosened
a bit.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Whatever the epoxy coating was, it
was clearly far stronger stuff than he'd expected when Gemma had
first sprayed it over his chest that morning.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He was also a bit annoyed how
useful the glow-in-the-dark function was proving. A few seconds of
flashlight to re-arm them, and he could safely navigate the
surprisingly dark corridors of the fake temple. Of course, the dim
glow only served to encourage his 'fans' to stay close to him, so
they could see the action.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then there was the bizarre
'treasure'. In the last room, solving a final puzzle made a giant
golden egg fall from a bin in the ceiling, as a prize for completing
the tour. Apparently the eggs were filled with free game memorabilia and a guaranteed subscription to Jazz's personal Patreon as an Omega-level patron, whatever that entailed. He'd not found a free moment to ask Gemma about it.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Regardless, the eggs were damned heavy.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The puzzle required he weigh down
a large pressure pad by an exact weight (which just so happened to
perfectly match the weight of his twin silicone falsies) to 'disarm'
a trap, and release the heavy egg from the ceiling to fall directly
into his cleavage.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And due to the temple's curse
(hastily written in magic marker on one wall in the last room), the
eggs apparently could not be allowed to touch human hands until they
were safely out of the temple.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Naturally, that left only one
option to carry the eggs out of the room, and back through the
preceding puzzles to the set's entrance, all at a run as the temple
self-destructed behind them, this illusion accomplished with annoying
sound effects of falling rocks and a series of Styrofoam stone blocks
dropping on cables around them.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">It was all very well-done, he had
to admit, but after carrying his thirtieth ten pound egg out of the
set, and struggling not to lose his balance on his heeled boots, he
was long past being impressed with the set's engineering. </span></span>
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">And as if to make an already
terrible experience even worse, halfway through his morning Jazz's
ex-boyfriend Lance Faggette appeared at his booth!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Apparently his ex had heard he was
prancing around in Laura Krauff cosplay for the week, and had come
down to the ComiXPo to check out the sight first hand.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lance even insisted on getting his
own tour of the temple set: five times!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Even worse, the queer bastard
never left! To Jazz's utter irritation, Lance decided to spend the
rest of the day hanging around the booth, pretending to lend a hand
helping sell Hugh Jazz Mofo merchandise to onlookers.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">But really he seemed more
interested in groping Jazz's giant ass whenever no one was looking.
Or even when <i>everyone </i>was looking!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Then, as if being stuck spending
the day with his ex-boyfriend wasn't bad enough, as they finally shut
down the booth for the afternoon and headed back to their hotel room
to change, another development conspired to make Jazz's life that
little bit more horrible....</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">***</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Well,
darn,” Lance said, walking back from the convention hotel front
desk. “It looks like the place is full up for the convention. And
apparently the whole town is booked too. Guess I should've thought to
call ahead and reserve a room before driving down here.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">He
gave a deep sigh, looking at his watch.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Well,
I guess I'll just head back home. If I leave now, I might get back by
sundown. It was fun seeing you again, Jam-er, </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">Jazz</span></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">.
It sure is a pity, though; I even brought enough clothes to stay the
whole week. Oh well.</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz sighed himself, but in silent
relief. Finally, something was breaking in his favor!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He didn't look forward to spending
another six days on the convention hall floor, but at least he
wouldn't have his fake ex on his ass the whole time.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh,
there's no need for that, Lance,” Gemma said dismissively. “I can
just shack up with the rest of my team.” She gestured to the other
marketing team members, most decked out in their own costumes for the
convention. “Heck, Angie has a whole room to herself, so I can just
join her. And then you and Jazzi can share his room together for the
week.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz nearly screamed as Gemma
casually ruined his week.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">And
besides, I'm sure you boys will have tons of fun hanging out together
again; it'll be just like old times,” she said coyly, pretending
not to notice as Jazz shot daggers back at her.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">But...
dhere's onwy one fupping bed in deh room!!” Jazz snapped,
struggling to speak coherently through his still swollen lips.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Truth was, the casual revelation
had crushed him. When he'd arrived that morning and realized that his
marketing team leader had booked a one-bed room for the two of them,
he'd actually thought she was finally sending him the signal he'd
been expecting for months now.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma was hot as hell, even with
her modest bustsize, and he'd been dreaming all day about spending
the rest of the week sharing a bed with her. In truth, it'd been the
only thing to get him through the hours of pinching and gawking.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She clicked her tongue
disapprovingly at his mangled exclamation.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, that reminds me; a new
golden ticket finally came in about an hour ago. In fact, I think
Lance was the one who sold the shirt it was hid in.” She tugged a
sheet from a random pocket of her cyberpunk outfit, and glanced over
it. “Uh, anyway, it's called 'The Swear Jar' ticket. According to
the rules, every time you swear from now on, you get punished.
Naturally, the girl who found the golden ticket got to pick the
punishment, and she decided that having to hand out a free ticket
every time you curse should cure you of the bad habit.”</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Jazz
nearly sputtered around his swollen lips. “WHAT?! Dhats fupping
insane!!”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Well,
there's been some drop-off in your subscriber count this week,
probably from a lack of new tickets. So this should help move things
along. Oh, and that's </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">two
tickets </span></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">now,
Jazzi!</span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">”
Gemma said, clicking her tongue again.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">One
of her marketing team members approached them, carrying a large bag,
and thrust it out at Jazz expectantly.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">He
glanced inside and winced, seeing a sea of golden tickets staring
back at him. Groaning, he plucked two fresh golden tickets from the
bag at random.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Gemma
grinned. “Hmm, I think Lance deserves them, after all, you sort of
owe him for dumping him last year the way you did.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz almost snapped back at her,
but thought better of it. He handed the two tickets to the gay
lawyer, who grinned broadly. “Well, I wasn't expecting... Well, I
think I'll save one of these for Mister Dick, actually. It'll make a
great little gift for my best client. Oh, I did mention that Mister
Dick is your biggest fan, right Jazzi?”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz narrowed his eyes, not liking
the way Lance's smirk when he said 'biggest' one little bit. He made
a mental note to never get stuck in a room alone with his sponsor...</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Lance stared down at the tickets,
picking one for his client, and then smiled at the remaining foil
strip in his hands.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i><span style="font-weight: normal;">Get
Kraken</span></i></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">?
What a strange... oh, it's another tattoo ticket.” Lance mused, as
Jazz's face grew pale. </span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">“Say,
did you know there's a biker convention going on in the other
convention hall? I got some friends from work who belong to a biker
club. Anyway, there's always some tattoo booths set up for these
events; why don't we head over, and get this ticket knocked out right
now?”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">***</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gqAwEqq8P94/X4D6TUZyvbI/AAAAAAAALFc/c2WT5irAL9wqQjNKeX5uo7G-CN3BS0RgQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/jessica%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gqAwEqq8P94/X4D6TUZyvbI/AAAAAAAALFc/c2WT5irAL9wqQjNKeX5uo7G-CN3BS0RgQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/jessica%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Ow!”
Hugh Jazz gasped, as the girl twisting him around in the seat.</span></p><p></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh,
you sound like big baby,” the salon hairdresser admonished, rolling
her eyes. She pushed down on his shoulders, managing to wedge his
massive rump between the armrests. “Now, quit squirming, or I get
glue everywhere. Have to shave you bald then, maybe.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz winced as she worked on his
hair, adding in long, red extensions to his already shaggy head of
hair.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">His tattoo was far too fresh to be
sitting on already, though really it was the trampstamp region above
his ass that hurt the most. The laser tattoo removal had taken hours,
nearly as long as the tattooing had, and the laser had left his skin
incredibly sensitive. All the deep layers of colored inks had been
very hard to remove, requiring multiple passes, and the doctor
thought it would be months before the skin sensitivity returned to
normal.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Exactly why the bastard had also
seen fit to laser his entire ass when he was removing the trampstamp
in preparation for Lance's new tattoo pick, Jazz had never gotten an
answer. But it sure made him reluctant to spend another six days
getting pinched by convention guests.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The only good thing to come from
the impromptu tattooing had been the removal of his hated trampstamp,
but it was hardly worth it when he finally saw the new tattoo that
had replaced it.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Get Krapen</i>, my aff!”
he mumbled to himself, sourly.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">I heard that!” Gemma said
smartly.</span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Godda--”
he started, then winced again at his near mistake. “Gush donut, why
are so mamy doptors in biper gangs?!”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">He
groaned, tugging a fresh ticket from Gemma's bag, and hissed.</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I
not know, probably mid-life crisis? Doctor work too hard,” the
salon girl said, apparently not grasping the rhetorical nature of his
question. “Now, you not move again, or me make you real pretty.”</span></span></span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz almost asked if that was a
threat, then decided not to risk annoying the Korean hairdresser by
making fun of her broken English.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Ooh, <i>Bubble Tyme,</i>”
Gemma read aloud, after snatching the new ticket away. She glanced at
the hairdresser. “Quick, what's your favorite flavor of gum?”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Gum?” The girl looked
confused. “Gum bad, get in hair, then need buzz cut. Um, banana is
good, though.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz groaned; he hated banana!</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">I'll pick you up a few bags
from the store on our walk back to the convention center,” his
marketing team leader informed him, patting his shoulder. “If
nothing else, chewing a pack of gum a day should keep your mouth
occupied and cut down on the swearing a bit. At the rate you're going
through tickets, we'll be needing a new bag soon.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Vewy fummy,” he replied,
rolling his eyes.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Truth was, he had been going
through a lot of tickets. Getting a giant tattoo across his
super-sensitive ass had led to his new hair-extensions, an annoyingly
oversized new tongue stud bead that was worsening his lisp nearly as
much as his swollen lips were, and a requirement that he start
uploading selfies on his social media pages... hourly.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He'd probably cursed more than
that during the three hour tattooing, but Gemma had taken pity on him
eventually, and decided that three tickets was enough.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Chewing bubblegum all day was
going to get super tiresome, though. <i>Why did it have to be
banana?!</i></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He growled down at his giant
silicone falsies, and tugged at his far too tight dress as a boob popped free yet again.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Surprisingly enough, his new costume wasn't the result of a ticket, at least not directly.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AE-zySUJbNg/X4D454d3CHI/AAAAAAAALFQ/g7q_9TP9uoMHfRh4IMqPpoTh-H1wbBrdQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/jessica%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AE-zySUJbNg/X4D454d3CHI/AAAAAAAALFQ/g7q_9TP9uoMHfRh4IMqPpoTh-H1wbBrdQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/jessica%2B2.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-size: large;">About the only silver lining to
having a giant tattoo covering his ass was that the game company had
immediately called a halt to his Laura Krauff cosplay. The tattoo
didn't really fit the character, so they weren't happy letting him
continue on as her.</span><p></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Unfortunately, rather than saving
him from a week in drag, the company had come up with a solution:
since they had recently started up a movie-streaming service on their
game console, they had no shortage of colorful movie character for
him to cosplay as the rest of the week.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Sadly, apparently they still
wanted him to take booth attendees on tours of the temple complex
set, even if it didn't fit his new character at all.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">How you like?” the Korean
hairdresser said, finally finishing her work.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Oooh,” Gemma cooed. She
grinned impishly. “That is a great look on you, dear. Long hair
really suits you. I think I'll call you Jazzica from now on, though.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz glared at his reflection
sullenly, hating his new look with a passion.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">When Gemma had delivered his new
costume, he'd utterly refused to wear it, at least he had until Lance
woke up from his shouting and informed him that Mister Dick had
personally picked it out. Apparently it was one of the CEO's favorite
film characters.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Still, Jazz had not been happy
about prancing around in a giant red sequin dress all day. He'd been
ready to refuse entirely, and risk annoying his sponsor, when Gemma
had sweetened the deal by mentioning that if he agreed to wear the
costume, she'd make sure he was on at least two panel discussions.
Though he'd have to spend at least the morning manning the booth and
giving temple tours.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>And
at least this dumb dress covers up my ass,</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
he reminded himself.</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">In
fact, compared to a lot of his clothing over the last several weeks
since Hot2Trot took over his wardrobe, his new costume was down right
conservative.</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">We ready to go, mow?” he
asked, starting to extricate himself from the seat, though his
wedged-in ass refused to budge from between the armrests.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">To annoyance, Gemma shook her
head. “Not so fast, Jazzica. That potty mouth of yours isn't the
only source of golden tickets.” She pulled out her phone, and
showed him the latest upload to the promotion site. Someone had found
another ticket, attached to a shirt he'd no doubt sold the day
before. “Looks like someone just found a <i>'Nail Me' </i>ticket.<i>”</i></span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He frowned, wondering what that
could possibly entail.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">***</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GIJ3UERbGUc/X4D4FE0N2pI/AAAAAAAALFE/-L7ycbJ6EXcm96bZ9638pzg9C2Icci1HgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/nail%2Bsalon%2B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GIJ3UERbGUc/X4D4FE0N2pI/AAAAAAAALFE/-L7ycbJ6EXcm96bZ9638pzg9C2Icci1HgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/nail%2Bsalon%2B4.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><p></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">***</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">But, I can'd, can'd-- can <i>not</i>
pway wike dhis!” Jazz complained, holding out his hands in disgust,
as they entered the hotel lobby. Gemma nicely held the door for him,
so he wouldn't risk breaking his new nails. “I'll neveh be able to
hamble a cuntwo—cuntwo—dumbsticks! Ahh!!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">I'm sure there are games you
can play that don't require a controller, Jazzica,” she said,
smirking as he struggled to utter even simple gamer terminology. “Not
every game is a button smasher or a First Person Shooter, you know.
We'll just have to transition you to something less dependent on
finger dexterity, that's all.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He sighed, glaring at his absurd
talons. The inch-long claws were too long to fit in his costume's
gloves, so the hairdresser had cut slits in the finger tips. She was
far too proud of her work to let him risk a broken nail.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Of course, negotiating the temple
set all morning with his new nails was going to be a real challenge.
He suspected he'd be visiting the salon every morning to get a new
set of acrylics added.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>At
least I'll be on a panel this afternoon,</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
he reminded himself for the dozenth time.</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">He
shouldered past a group of geeks in dumb costumes, wondering if
everyone in the hotel was a conventiongoer, and finally reached the
line for the elevators. A quick stop in his room gather his
flashlight and some pens for autographs (how he'd sign anything with
his new talons he had no idea) and a moment to drain the lizard and--</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">He
paused, mid-thought, and suddenly wondered how exactly he was going
to actually use the restroom now.</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><i>Very,
very carefully,</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> he decided,
wincing in anticipation.</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Dang,
Jazzica, ol' Sasha sure has done a number on you!” He blinked
confusion at Gemma, but she only shrugged. “She's trained you so
well, you walk like a natural model. Are you even aware that you're
posing right now?!”</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">He
glanced down at his body, but couldn't see past his gelatinous fake
breasts. “Uhm...” he began, but was cut off by Gemma.</span></span></span></p><p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mWuZle1aYIo/X4D3t7us2NI/AAAAAAAALE8/Rcdoh20I8s0zsTKYF3QtN8rxtd5GT4aJwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/jazzica%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mWuZle1aYIo/X4D3t7us2NI/AAAAAAAALE8/Rcdoh20I8s0zsTKYF3QtN8rxtd5GT4aJwCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/jazzica%2B3.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div><p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Holy
sh--Jazzica, your ex is here!”</span></p><p></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Jazz
frowned, wondering why she was so excited to see Lance again. “Of
courf he's here, I juft spend all night wiff hem, fanks to you. Or
did you forg--”</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">James?!
Is that you?!”</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Jazz's
heart stopped. </span><i>No. No, no, no... no, it can't be....</i></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">OHMYGAWD!!!
James, I can't believe it!!”</span></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">His
head swam, his instincts cut in. </span><i>She hasn't seen my face
yet, she can't be sure it's really me, I'll get to my room and cut
this crap off me and and and--</i></span></span></p>
<p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Unfortunately
for Jazz, his instinct to run from his approaching ex-girlfriend did
not take into account his new high heels, or his giant, bouncy
breasts, or his amazingly plump rump. And all three conspired to send
him flying off his feet and landing with a silicone-softened thud to
the lobby floor.</span></span></span></p><p style="font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jG3hyQ7DxEM/X4D3GobWEwI/AAAAAAAALE0/iLRYaFah4OoYB40awm_GMrRsmZOhp0WVQCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Jazzica%2B4%2Bfalls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1434" data-original-width="2048" height="448" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jG3hyQ7DxEM/X4D3GobWEwI/AAAAAAAALE0/iLRYaFah4OoYB40awm_GMrRsmZOhp0WVQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h448/Jazzica%2B4%2Bfalls.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*****</div></span></span><p></p><p></p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-50021672249960704962020-10-03T21:40:00.002-07:002020-10-03T21:40:43.562-07:00Happily Never After: Belle's Hell<p>Happy Saturday, everyone! </p><p>Figured everyone was a bit burned out on transgender caps, so worked on this for a change of pace. Haven't done much magic transformations in a while, I think.</p><p>This was a weird idea I had ages ago, part of a planned-but-never-completed Disney Princess themed series of captions; all sorts of fractured fairy tales with bad endings for the lovely ladies. If there's interest in some more, I'll try to work on a few others.</p><p>If there does happen to be interest, any preferences for which Princesses need a happily never after fate?</p><p>- B-Rex</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wcnWhKNf890/X3lRC5ivI9I/AAAAAAAALDM/1yu9lBEcFLIr11XLgC-Q39Jx7mzodpCLACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/emma_watson_belle_beauty_and_the_beast-1600x900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="900" data-original-width="1600" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wcnWhKNf890/X3lRC5ivI9I/AAAAAAAALDM/1yu9lBEcFLIr11XLgC-Q39Jx7mzodpCLACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/emma_watson_belle_beauty_and_the_beast-1600x900.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: center;">Belle's Hell</h3><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Wha-at-is happ-un-ing too meee....?"</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Isn't it obvious, dear? You're becoming as wooden as your acting!" Lumiere chuckled, as the bratty actress's visage solidified.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Belle's immense dress warped around her legs, ballooning out even more than normal. Even as he watched, the already gaudily yellow fabric became even brighter as an almost metallic sheen spread across the yards of expensive cloth.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Lu-me-aaaairrr!?!” Belle gasped, struggling to stand up as the rapidly transforming dress pulled her down, the fabric tinging strangely against the floor. “Wha-att diiid youuudootoomee?! Whyy?! I saaavved youuuu!”</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The palace host smiled down at the woman, beyond pleased with his revenge. It was going far better than he'd dared hoped!<span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">It had taken him months to find the fairy, lurking in some distant forest glade, imitating an ancient, wart-covered beggar woman, eerily similar to the form she'd once taken when his master had insulted her all those years ago. But the lengthy search had been worth it, he now knew with certainly.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“<i>Saved</i> me?! You ruined my life,” he hissed angrily, glaring down at the rapidly changing young actress.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The bitch had appeared in their lives a year before, apparently getting lost during some vacation in the mountains, between films at the time. She'd be shocked to find the palace, seemingly stuck in time, unchanged from the castles that had once covered the land. She'd been even more shocked when she saw the cursed inhabitants, and had nearly ran away before they could explain the curse and how she could undo it.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The rest, as they say, was history. Or, at least, it would've been, if Hollywood had been honest. </p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In reality, Belle's seduction of his master had gone faster than anyone would've believed, especially once she got sight of the treasure room. Or maybe it was the promise of a title once she married his master that had whetted her loins for the shaggy beast of a man? Lumiere had never been sure.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After she consummated her 'love' with the transformed prince, the curse had been lifted, releasing the palace back to the real world, and returning them all to their original bodies at long last.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Of course, once Hollywood got its grubby mitts on the tale, they'd made it into an over-produced period piece. Apparently the pseudo-bestiality angle was hard enough to get past audiences, without the addition of the literally centuries of age difference between the actress and her new fiance.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Things had only gone downhill from there; the movie made them all famous, and with fame, came a celebrity the peasants had never known. Some had taken to it better than others.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Lumiere sighed, remembering his love, his dear, dear Fifi, as she left him for that upper-crust toady from the English colonies! His beloved, scorning him the moment she returned to her true form, and jumping into the bed of the first rich, handsome man to catch her eye!!</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He shook his head, and grinned darkly down at the transforming actress. Her flesh had hardened fully now, a wooden grain apparent everywhere not covered by the now solid brass dress wrapping around her hips. She was starting to shrink now, as the fairy's new curse rapidly finished.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“You should've signed that autograph, my dear,” he chided. “Even annoying fans deserve respect.”</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He'd laughed when the fairy arrived, hiding her natural beauty under the guise of a bloated young man, begging for an autograph from his “favorite actress”. He'd broken out into hysterical guffaws when the infamously uptight actress actually spit on the fan's proffered movie publicity photo, and proclaimed, “There, go jerk off to that, creep. I don't have time to waste on every asshole who shows up wanting my attention. Besides, autographs are for hot guys, not fat incel losers like you!”</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Just as with his master, the fairy had then transformed into her true form, and pronounced her curse, then disappeared in a puff of magical fog.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Now the young actress's transformation was coming to an end. Her skirts had hardened into solid metal, pushing her higher than her legs, until she was trapped, kicking futilely inside the brass skirt, unable to reach the ground.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The hard clangs of her feet striking the skirt died down suddenly, as her legs grew as wooden as the rest of her body. In a final surge of movement, her arms bent upwards, hands interweaving, and then she was stuck.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“EOHHH!!” Belle shrieked over wooden lips, as the magical energy rose within her, until her chest began to glow.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The magic suddenly erupted out of the actress, becoming a floating orb dancing around the palace ballroom, before it exploded.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Instead of forming into a magical rose, as it had with his master long ago, this time the residual magics turned into an giant hourglass, and the words “Find Time, Or Stay That Way Forever” glowed above it for a few final seconds, mimicking the fairy's departing words of warning.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Lumiere bent down, and picked up the wooden handle that Belle's torso had become, grinning into her small wooden face, laughing as he took in her final changes.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Her breasts, always rather small in his opinion, had swollen into a truly impressive set of knockers. Giving her a slight shake, he laughed again, realizing how accurate that description was.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Belle screamed as her new breasts bounced woodenly, clacking hard against her skirt and sending out a beautiful ringing that echoed around the massive room!</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1J3I8S5p01k/X3lRkw0dBUI/AAAAAAAALDU/eXZ-TCAtMpslfLgXaNSdT_tE7kszwDStQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1300/Belle%2Bbell1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1300" data-original-width="1300" height="640" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1J3I8S5p01k/X3lRkw0dBUI/AAAAAAAALDU/eXZ-TCAtMpslfLgXaNSdT_tE7kszwDStQCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h640/Belle%2Bbell1.png" width="640" /></a></div><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Lumiere sighed, staring at her body. Her new shape was all-too-similar to his lost love's, at least back when Fifi was trapped as a feather duster. Despite his hatred toward Belle, he could not help but feel a stirring in his loins:</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Nearly three-centuries stuck as a living candelabra dating an animate feather duster had taken its toll on his sexual interests; he may have returned to his normal self, but his fetishes had not.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Lumiere! You have to help me!! I've been cursed!!!” Belle gasped, struggling in his grip about her waist. Her struggles sent her legs shaking about, banging away loudly on her now fully brass bell of a dress.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He sighed; without the magic changing her, the tightness of her face had finally given way. “Pity, I was hoping you'd lose the ability to speak entirely. Oh well, easy enough to fix.”</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She shook her hoop-skirt furiously, eliciting a series of angry clangs and dings.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Careful, Princess, or you'll give yourself a dent," Lumiere quipped, wiping a bit more of the wood glue over the handle's lips. Belle glared up at him in impotent rage. “There we are, now no one will have to listen to anymore of that irritating low-English drawl of yours.”</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Belle's wooden eyelids narrowed, then she turned her wooden head and looked up longingly at the slowly emptying magical hourglass. Ten years of sand was going to take a while to fall, clearly.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Plenty of time for your true-love to find you and give you a ring-a-ding-ding, dear. If he can find you, that is.”</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Laughing, he carried the distraught living bell out of the castle, shaking her hard, filling the palace halls with a loud, beautiful ringing melody, before finally reaching the outside and his cheap car.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He opened a small shoe-box-sized mail package sitting on the passenger seat, and tossed her inside the padded box unceremoniously.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Then, recalling the princess's love of reading, he searched the backseat for a moment, before finding the dreadfully tacky romance novel Fifi had forgotten there when she dumped him six months earlier.</p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He dropped the paperback trash next to the new bell. “A bit of reading material to enjoy on your trip, Belle. Don't read it all at once though, after all, it'll be a few months before you get to the Symphony. You did want to move back to Los Angeles, didn't you?”</p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-72526389810010731632020-09-25T18:44:00.002-07:002020-09-25T18:44:43.330-07:00Ticketed 6<p>Happy Friday, everybody. Sorry I haven't been posting much lately, still dealing with health and family issues unfortunately.</p><p>And I've sort of gotten roped into a third job to help a family member's contractor business, which has eaten up more of my usual writing time. It should be a temporary situation, but they needed the help and I'm the only person in the family who knows how to work with spreadsheet programs apparently.</p><p>Anyway, here's another addition to the Ticketed series. I've got more finished than this, but I'm having to redo some of my renders (some of which were posted on the Patreon a few weeks back) because some of the story details have changed since I made them.</p><p>I'll try to get more posted up soon, and not get bogged down with my other work for two solid weeks again. I've got some big plot arcs I really want to get to. ;-)</p><p><span style="text-align: center;">- B-Rex</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uHKbEXRcwA4/X26aq62_R9I/AAAAAAAALB0/SKxeFNlGqZYrExH2lNk0EBGuK8zZotNXgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/tits%2Bfake%2B1ba.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uHKbEXRcwA4/X26aq62_R9I/AAAAAAAALB0/SKxeFNlGqZYrExH2lNk0EBGuK8zZotNXgCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/tits%2Bfake%2B1ba.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br /><h3 style="text-align: center;">Ticketed 6</h3><h3 style="text-align: left;">“<span style="font-size: medium; font-weight: normal;">Oh gawd, dis if fo
embawasswing!” Hugh Jazz Mofo exclaimed at his reflection.</span></h3>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He licked his lips, wincing
slightly. The collagen injections hadn't hurt as much as he'd
expected, but three hours later, his lips were becoming quite sore.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He hoped his annoying lisp went
away once they healed, but he had a suspicion it'd be weeks before
they shrank enough for him to stop sounding like an idiot. His tongue
stud had taken nearly a month to get used to, after all.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Turning awkwardly in the small
hotel bathroom, he stared at his chest in the mirror over the sink,
and started to let go of his latest humiliating addition: a pair of
gigantic silicone boobs.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Ad weast dey awn't weal fake
bewbs,” he tried to reassure himself, quickly regaining his grip on
the pair. They were shockingly heavy, and the glue that attached them
to his chest made it painful to not support them. He sighed.<span></span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Suddenly the door burst open, and
he shrieked in surprise, jumping. The motion sent his new burdens
sloshing wildly, the gelled silicone far more stretchy than any real
breast would be. He struggled to stop the gyrations.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Just wanted to see what was taking you so long, Jazzi,” Gemma said, pushing herself into the small
bathroom without waiting for permission, her cyberpunk costume shimmering in the bright lighting. “That glue should've set up ten
minutes ago.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She took in his reflection, and
giggled. “Oh, wow! Those things look absolutely insane!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Before he could get a word in
edgewise, she cupped a feel of his new chest, and giggled again. “And
they feel even crazier! Hey, did you know this is the same material
they make fleshlights out of and stuff?”</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K762PVoRay0/X26MwkrXMwI/AAAAAAAALBU/Z1EUMWqEiSconR9c-cK1rdtuMSVWtFFYACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Hugh%2BJazz%2Bfake%2Bboobs%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K762PVoRay0/X26MwkrXMwI/AAAAAAAALBU/Z1EUMWqEiSconR9c-cK1rdtuMSVWtFFYACLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/Hugh%2BJazz%2Bfake%2Bboobs%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">In fact, he hadn't known that, and now that he did, he really
wished he didn't.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">“Where's my top, Gemma?” he asked, annoyed
as she continued kneading his silicone breasts between her fingers. “I
could do wiff some extra support wight about now. Dese juggs are
heavy!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Huh? Oh, right, don't worry
about that, I've got the rest of your costume laid out on your bed.
Damn, I can't get over how these feel when I squeeze them like this!!
And those nipples!?! I could just pinch and pull them all day long!”
</span></span>
</p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz sighed, wishing she wouldn't.
Finally she let go of his breasts, only to pull a large flashlight
from her purse. “Wha--” He began, frowning.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Hey, want to see something
cool?” Not waiting for a respons</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">e, Gemma turned the bathroom lights
off, and shone the flashlight directly into one silicone balloon.</span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He stared in surprise as the
entire blob glowed brightly in the mirror, turning the room a dull
red.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Fun, huh? Now watch this--”
Gemma said, turning the flashlight off.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz gasped in disdain as the
breast continued to glow.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">They're glow-in-the-dark! Isn't
that hilarious!?! They'll glow like that for at least an hour too,
apparently. Oh, and watch this--” She grinned, squeezing his
glowing boob with one hand, and then let go, a darkened hand mark
left behind for a few seconds before the spot returned to glowing
again. “It's like those magic walls they have in science museums,
some sort of photosensitive coating. Anyway, I bet the real Laura
Krauff would love to have glowing tits, she'd never need to carry
around pesky torches again, huh?”</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VWpN9YKqeo8/X26MwmpYnvI/AAAAAAAALBY/oQdR4fgCXm8GgvSEECdDH_plpmXR3sBegCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/fake%2Btits%2B1%2Bplastic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-VWpN9YKqeo8/X26MwmpYnvI/AAAAAAAALBY/oQdR4fgCXm8GgvSEECdDH_plpmXR3sBegCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/fake%2Btits%2B1%2Bplastic.jpg" width="640" /></a></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">***</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz wanted to die. “I can'd
walk awound the conwenshen wike dis! I wook widickuwus!!”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Oh, you look fine, Jazz.”
Gemma said, waving away his concerns dismissively. “Honestly dear,
you worry about your looks more than any woman I know.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">She spun around, and pushed
through the gathering crowd at the convention doors, flashing her
pass at the guards.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Not wanting to get lost in the
crowd of costumed geeks, Jazz hurried to keep up with her, stumbling
in his unfamiliar boots. They were only a three-inch heel, and he'd
found it very hard to keep his balance in them, even before his
marketing team leader glued his new burdens on his chest.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma finally stopped in front of
the main desk. “Okay, you stay here for a few minutes while I get
us all signed in, and then we'll head up to your booth.”</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz sighed, but nodded. He waited
in the thankfully mostly empty lobby, instinctively assuming one of
the many poses his catwalk trainer Sasha had beaten into him over the
last month, and glowered at his chest.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">While his new top did indeed off
some support, it didn't offer much modesty. The jellied silicone
nipples of his monstrous fake breasts stuck awkwardly out around the
small top, practically begging passers-by to reach out and pinch
them.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">He sighed again. To think, he'd
actually be excited when his sponsor had announced that they'd pulled
some strings and gotten him full member access to the ComXPo
convention. He'd been trying to get in for years, but even with his
high subscriber count, he'd never been admitted in as anything but a
typical convention attendee. While other, smaller, online
personalities were given full access and got to promote their brand
by heading up panels, he'd been stuck trying to post awkwardly shot
videos from the floor level with his phone.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">As a full member, he'd not only
finally be allowed on panels, but he could even set up his own booth
to sign autographs for his fans, who would surely be attending in
droves.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Jazz shook his head, and licked
his pursed, swollen lips. He should've known it was too good to be
true.</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma hadn't dropped the other
shoe until that morning, when she showed him his costume. Apparently
his sponsor, Hot2Trot, hadn't been able to get him his own booth - the
convention floorspace had been sold out months ago - so they had instead contracted with some video game company to let him work at their booths.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">The only catch was that he had to dress as one
of their characters....</span></span></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: black;">“<span style="font-size: medium;">Honestly, I don't know why
you're looking so glum, Jazzi, I thought Laura Krauff was your
favorite video game character? Well, before the flat-chested reboot anyway.” Gemma said, finally returning with
their badges.</span></span></p><p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1QaZjKn8tuU/X26M4DeBDAI/AAAAAAAALBc/Zm1yq9vtfvQXiXa-WasetJ19QnINm9-1wCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/tits%2Bfake%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="360" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1QaZjKn8tuU/X26M4DeBDAI/AAAAAAAALBc/Zm1yq9vtfvQXiXa-WasetJ19QnINm9-1wCLcBGAsYHQ/w640-h360/tits%2Bfake%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></p>
<p><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: medium;">"She is, but dat doesn't mean I
wanna be dwessed as her!” Jazz snapped, as the convention doors
finally opened, admitting a veritable tsunami of costumed convention-goers into the building.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"Well, try to look happier at least. Your boyfri-er, I mean, <i>Lance</i> said that Mister Dick personally pushed for them to let you go as her game character. And that they even let you go as the pre-reboot version, with the giant tits all you fanboys love so much." Gemma chided. "It wouldn't do to upset your sponsor, and Mister Dick is your biggest fan, or so Lance always says."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"He'd know," Jazz muttered sourly under his breath. There was nothing for it, embarrassing or not, he'd just have to put up with the humiliation. Louder, he said, "Sure, sure. I'll twy to smile. Doe dese wips aren't helping any. I dong-don't know how I'll get through dee panel discushins. At weast I'll shurely sell a ton of merch dis week."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Although, that meant more golden tickets were sure to be found. So far he'd gone nearly three full days without a new ticket altering his lifestyle or attire. The lip injections and his new wig were actually just part of the costume, Krauff was famous for her massive lips and long pony tail, and the video game company letting him share booth space had insisted that he look the part.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Gemma bit her own, non-inflated lip suddenly, looking sheepish.</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">"Uh, yeah, about that... actually, there won't be any panel discussions. Well, not with you on them, anyway. Krauffwerkz Games offered to let you work the floor, advertising their new Tomb Hunter game. Since the real Krauff went missing in some jungle last month, they're in desperate need of a spokesperson, and I thought this would be better for your brand. No one watches those silly panels anyway, and we can livestream you interacting with fans all week, in person. It'll boost your image way more than arguing with some industry nerds about some boring game company merger on a stage somewhere."</span></p><p><span style="font-size: large;">Jazz's mouth fell open. "Wait a min--I'm gonna be a fupping <i><b>booth bimbo</b>!?!</i>"</span></p><p><span style="font-size: medium;">Gemma ignored him. "Anyway, they've got this cool fake tomb set built for the big unveiling of the new game, and they want you to give guided tours through it, like a big interactive exhibit. There's puzzles to solve and all sorts of fun-- hey, I just remembered, you won't even need to bring a flashlight along!"</span></p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-47160914764328919102020-09-11T02:13:00.000-07:002020-09-11T02:13:18.663-07:00Ticketed 5<p>Greetings all. This has been a bad week, unfortunately. Not to go into too much personal detail, but I've lost a family member and have bad news about another, and my ear problem continues for seemingly no reason I can discern, which is starting to become worrying in and of itself.</p><p>I've been trying to write as much to get my mind off things as for any other reason, so today's post may be a bit less polished than normal. It's almost entirely new, I'm straying away from the original stuff I posted on Patreon a few weeks ago. I have a better plotline to follow now, I think. I may post some more of my finished renderings on the Patreon, just for feedback and to add some unique content. A few I'm probably not going to get to use, due to changes in the storyline I'm planning out.</p><p>Anyway, thanks to everyone who has commented lately, I'm happy to see so many were interested in my Wedding Crasher work-in-progress. I'll try to finish it sometime. Also a huge thanks to <a href="https://ffq.bdsmlr.com/post/265121297">FFQ, who made a caption directly inspired by the story</a>. I enjoyed it very much, it's actually not that far off from my plans for the eventual wedding scene, though different enough not to spoil anything.</p><p>Also thanks to everyone who has been visiting and commenting on Kandi's new <a href="https://thekandishoppe.blogspot.com/">caption blog</a>.</p><p>Well, enough of all that, on to Hugh Jazz Mofo's latest ordeal.</p><p>- B-Rex</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f4Rg6njASNU/X1s_MWaVAbI/AAAAAAAAK9A/a0N5JzH0OjsyPGbil_f5aJsnkSqupqycACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Hugh%2BJazz%2Bjeans.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="351" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-f4Rg6njASNU/X1s_MWaVAbI/AAAAAAAAK9A/a0N5JzH0OjsyPGbil_f5aJsnkSqupqycACLcBGAsYHQ/w625-h351/Hugh%2BJazz%2Bjeans.jpg" width="625" /></a></div><h3 style="text-align: center;">Ticketed 5</h3><p>Hugh Jazz Mofo groaned as he finally managed to pull his
new cut-off denim hotpants over his XXXXL ass, and sighed down at the
sight.</p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">Having a bunch of gay guys pick out his new wardrobe had
been a nightmare, especially given the limitations the ticket holder
had set. Fully half the things in his new wardrobe were some shade of
pink or lavender, and all of them had been entirely too tight. It had
been a real pain to get dressed in the morning, and more than once
he'd been forced to ask for help just to get a garment over his gigantic derriere.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">But that was nothing compared to the line of products he
was now legally obligated to wear and promote.<span></span></span></p><a name='more'></a><p></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">He'd signed the new sponsorship contract, too shocked by
the massive check to even bother reading the list of requirements. It
was, after all, just a normal clothing sponsorship. The sponsor,
Hot2Trot, was well known for their high-end sportswear line. They
sponsored hundreds of athletes and minor celebrities the world over,
he'd simply been their first real foray into the online gaming
streamer market.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">He'd expected to be wearing someone else's logo on top
of his clothes, and maybe even get some free new outfits.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">Instead, he'd become the glorified mascot for Hot2Trot
brand new urban youth product line.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
“<span style="font-size: small;">God, that's tight.” He looked across his newly
refurbished walk-in closet and groaned at his reflection.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">Practically all of his new clothing was purpose built to
show off his new ass, apparently. A thin, flexible patch of partially
spandex material was sewn into the front of every pair of pants, to
accommodate (and make painfully obvious) his male parts, but the back
seams were intentionally sewn too short and extra thick, causing
every pair of pants to dig deeply into his augmented rump,
effectively giving him the mother of all wedgies.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">It was more than just humiliating to wear, it was damned
uncomfortable too!</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">He finally tore his gaze away from his huge ass, and
looked around his walk-in closet, sighing as he took in his
assortment of new shoes.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">His pants weren't the only uncomfortable part of his new
wardrobe.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">After several minutes of deliberating, he plucked a pink
pair of strapless sandals from the immense pile of new high-heels
sitting in his closet, and tried to balance on the unfamiliar
footwear.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">At a mere three-and-half-inches high, the heel was
technically the shortest in his new collection, but the shoe's
ultra-thin sole made it feel more like four inches to his Achilles's.
He cursed whichever fan had found the 'Well-Heeled' golden ticket the
week before....</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">Aren't
you dressed yet?” Gemma snapped, suddenly bursting through the
closet door. He glared at her, hopping awkwardly on one foot as he
tried to wedge the other shoe on.</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">Just
wait a damned minute!!”</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">She rolled her eyes. “You've been in here like thirty
minutes already, the show is going live in three minutes, and you
don't even your makeup on yet, Jazz.”</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">Why
did you have to remind me of that?!” He sighed in annoyance. Why
the hell was his fanbase suddenly so obsessed with turning him into
some sort of faggy crossdresser anyway? Half the games he played were
gore-filled zombie kill fests.</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">And
dammit, you didn't shave!! Quick, I'll go and keep the crowd busy,
get that stubble off your face. And hurry!! If you mess up your first
runway show, you can kiss your sponsorship deal goodbye.”</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">Before he could respond, she was off, to buy time. He
glared at his reflection in the mirror across from the pile of shoes,
and glowered.</span></p><p style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">***</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wnrh-OvnXTY/X1rbLHIOdlI/AAAAAAAAK8k/a8Q0i5mCBBA5p4lSKXm2JMfRKecKhcFJgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/hugh%2Bjazz%2Bmofo%2Bcatwalk%2B0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="351" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Wnrh-OvnXTY/X1rbLHIOdlI/AAAAAAAAK8k/a8Q0i5mCBBA5p4lSKXm2JMfRKecKhcFJgCLcBGAsYHQ/w625-h351/hugh%2Bjazz%2Bmofo%2Bcatwalk%2B0.jpg" width="625" /></a></div><p align="LEFT"></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">Hugh Jazz clomped his way down the brightly-lit runway,
as the small, but energetic crowd of Gemma's marketing team and a few
extra photographers (and to his utter horror his fake ex-boyfriend
Lance Faggette) clapped with excitement at his modeling debut.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">The runway show was being streamed live for his growing
subscriber base, and was part of his sponsorship deal. Hot2Trot
wanted nightly modeling sessions, before he started his gaming
reviews and letsplays.</span></p><p align="LEFT">
<span style="font-size: small;">Glancing out into the darkened room, he had to admit,
humiliating as all this was, Hot2Trot had seriously come through for
him on the gaming front. Massive multi-screen displays filled the
corners of the room, so he could play his games in opulent luxury
normally reserved for only the largest, most popular online
personalities.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>Then
again,</i> he reminded himself,
spinning around at the end of the stage to a roar of hoots from his
marketing consultants, <i>I'm over four million subscribers
now. I </i>am<i> one of the
most popular online celebs.</i></span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">As
he spun around, involuntarily twerking his oversize butt at the
onlookers to maintain his balance, he bit back a gasp as his
piercings bounced, particularly his new belly button piercing, as it
nearly touched part of his still very sore stomach tattoos.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">When
he'd seen the tops his sponsor had wanted him to wear, he'd
practically refused on the spot. There was no way he was going to
wear a bunch of tube-tops and bras on stream!</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">The
new tattoo had been Gemma's idea of a compromise; Hot2Trot wanted
their logo prominently displayed, and he wanted to avoid wearing
their tops during his nightly shows.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">Now
he wished he'd thought it over better. Surely a few bras would be
less embarrassing than this?</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">Of
course, when he'd agreed to the new tattooed logo, he'd not realized
the new urban youth product line had been re-dubbed the 'BOY TOY'
line....</span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">***</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5AOY1ybpQfY/X1rbLD0MYPI/AAAAAAAAK8g/FyHmRfxUKPEn9Tt2HAa_QfWDdHwoNkRYACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/hugh%2Bjazz%2Bmofo%2Bcatwalk%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="351" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5AOY1ybpQfY/X1rbLD0MYPI/AAAAAAAAK8g/FyHmRfxUKPEn9Tt2HAa_QfWDdHwoNkRYACLcBGAsYHQ/w625-h351/hugh%2Bjazz%2Bmofo%2Bcatwalk%2B1.jpg" width="625" /></a></div><p align="LEFT"></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">How
many more times do I have to do this!?!” Jazz exclaimed, thoroughly
irritated as he strolled back down the runway.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">He'd
spent the last hour walking endless circles up and down the stage,
his six-inch heels slowly turning his calves into jelly.</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">Until
you do it right!” Sasha replied, smirking. “Now, spin and walk
like you mean it, Yuge'Azz!”</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">He
glared back at taller woman, but obeyed, marching down the catwalk
again, swinging his rump for the empty room like she'd taught him.
Much as he hated to admit it, the motion did help him keep his
balance on the stilt-like heels he wore now.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">After
his first few nights of runway modeling, his ex-boyfriend Lance had
informed him that the gay lawyer's mysterious client, 'Mister Dick' -
apparently some bigwig at Hot2Trot - had decided that Jazz was in
desperate need of some professional training.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">Sasha
had shown up the next night, and his life had been a fresh hell ever
since. A professional runway model since her early teens, the girl
had ran him ragged for the last week, turning his stumbling footwork
into a semblance of a real model's perfect catwalk prancing.</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">Look,
my stream is nearly over and I haven't played one minute of my new
game yet! Plus my feet are fucking killing me!” Jazz declared,
spinning around in a huff at the end of the stage. “I'm not walking
another step!”</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">Suit
self,” Sasha said in her oddly-accented English, shrugging
nonchalantly.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">Just
as he thought he'd finally won some little victory over the
East-European beauty, he felt her surprisingly strong hand slide down
the waistband of his impossibly-tight shorts, and yank downward.</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">NOOOO!!!!”
Hugh Jazz Mofo shrieked, as his trainer pants him on live camera,
before 100,000 adoring fans, and inadvertently showed them all the
results of his latest Pick-My-Ink golden ticket.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">Before
he could react, the woman had practically thrown him to the stage
floor, yanking the pants off entirely, then holding them above her
triumphantly like some macabre denim trophy.</span></p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">He
jerked to his feet, one hand trying futilely to cover his groin,
while he jumped in his heels for the hotpants.</span></p><p align="LEFT">“<span style="font-size: small;">You
want pants back, you march big bottom up and down catwalk like pretty
model you are,” Sasha pronounced, easily holding the pants out of
his reach. “You done when I say you is done, not before.”</span></p><p>
</p><p align="LEFT"><span style="font-size: small;">Groaning,
Jazz turned, carefully covering his crotch with one hand, and his
rump with the other as he started the long, embarrassing trek back up
the catwalk.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lr23MYwL4u0/X1rb0SxYy9I/AAAAAAAAK80/D2ey9lzNzWsospdn9gTNyXmkTS7x62rSwCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/hugh%2Bjazz%2Bmofo%2Bcatwalk%2B2.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="351" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lr23MYwL4u0/X1rb0SxYy9I/AAAAAAAAK80/D2ey9lzNzWsospdn9gTNyXmkTS7x62rSwCLcBGAsYHQ/w625-h351/hugh%2Bjazz%2Bmofo%2Bcatwalk%2B2.jpg" width="625" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;">*****</div><p></p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-9329231033238656352020-09-03T03:48:00.001-07:002020-09-03T03:48:12.541-07:00Wedding Crasher<p> Hello everyone! Sorry about disappearing for the last two weeks, I've come down with a very bad ear infection that is unfortunately still bothering me. My hearing and balance have been all out of whack and despite a ton of pills, it is only very slowly improving. I sadly haven't been able to get much work done, partly from the pills messing with my blood sugar.</p><p>Thankfully the pain has mostly gone away now, but I'm still nearly deaf in one ear and it keeps popping constantly, which is very irritating and distracting.</p><p>All that said, I have been finishing some more Ticketed series material, mostly renders, and coming up with more of a proper plotline that I think you'll all enjoy, once I can write it all out. And I've mostly finished a pair of age-regression captions, but I need to find at least one more picture to match the text I've written thus far. I'll try to get more of that posted soon.</p><p>On that subject, I figured I'd finally post part of a mind-control/age-regression themed story I started writing two years ago and have never quite finished, for whatever reason. I still haven't even gotten to the wedding.</p><p>I posted it on the Patreon late last year, but never got around to putting it up here, so it's probably long since time to share it more generally anyway. One day I'll finish the thing and probably publish it.</p><p>This is sort of a prequel to my old "Thank You For Staring" story at the sister blog, Humbled Harlots, and rather mean. Hope you all enjoy it, and again, I'll try to get some new content up soon.</p><p>Also, one last thing. Kandi (formerly known as JustAnotherBecky and the winner of my <a href="https://degradeddamsels.blogspot.com/2018/10/feminization-caption-contest-submissions.html">feminization caption contest</a> from about two years ago) has started a new blog, titled, appropriately enough, <a href="https://thekandishoppe.blogspot.com">TheKandiShoppe</a>, and already has several fun transgender-themed captions posted.</p><p>So please be sure to check it out and leave lots of comments.</p><p>Now, on to the story:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxx9zFQy-xs/X1DGLuBQBdI/AAAAAAAAK6E/OIK9j6w6HioTpdsRKOejLVFTJiOPCSdwwCLcBGAsYHQ/s992/little%2Bcaprice%2Bpublic%2Bnudity%2Btrain%2Bride%2Bnaked%2Bteen%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="992" data-original-width="745" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dxx9zFQy-xs/X1DGLuBQBdI/AAAAAAAAK6E/OIK9j6w6HioTpdsRKOejLVFTJiOPCSdwwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/little%2Bcaprice%2Bpublic%2Bnudity%2Btrain%2Bride%2Bnaked%2Bteen%2B1.jpg" /></a></div><p style="text-align: center;"><b>Wedding Crasher (WIP)</b></p><p style="text-align: center;">By Tabitha Kohls</p><p style="text-align: center;">*****</p><p></p><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Shouldn't you be accompanied by
an adult, miss?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda felt her blood pressure rise.
<i>Not this, again.</i></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">With an exasperated sigh, she slowly
closed her book, careful to keep a finger on her page, and looked up
at the source of the voice.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Her angry retort died in her throat;
she'd expected to see one of the train conductors, not the strange
figure peering down at her.
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The man was tall, his build somewhere
between merely thin and outright lanky. Though not exactly handsome,
he was hardly ugly, though the arrogant smirk on his face did him no
favors.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But that wasn't what stopped her from
snapping at him. The man was off. There was no other word for it;
there was something just subtly <i>wrong</i> about the stranger,
something she couldn't quite put her finger on.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"<i>I'm</i> an adult," she
said curtly, and resumed reading her textbook, hoping the strangely
unsettling man would take the hint and leave.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"> "Really? You don't look like an
adult," the man said, his smirk growing positively predatory as
he sat down in the seat opposite her.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She struggled not to glare at the
stranger. "Well, I <i>am</i> an adult, and I'm very busy, so if
you don't mind...."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda took a deep breath, fighting to
keep her temper under control. Truth was, she was quite used to
strangers assuming she was far younger than her actual twenty-seven years. She'd never gotten a real growth spurt after middle school,
leaving her at barely four-foot ten inches tall, and despite her
careful choice of wardrobe and makeup, she never quite looked as
mature as she wished. More than once she had been called out in class
by a professor, mistaking her for a lost freshman who had wandered
into the wrong class. And the less said about her attempts to go out
clubbing with her friends, the better....</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, busy doing your homework, I
see. What subject are you reading?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The stranger's dry, mildly
condescending tone drew her back from her reverie. She sighed, again,
extra heavily this time, and lifted the cover of the thick textbook.
His eyes widened in surprise.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Physics? That's a bit advanced
for a little girl like you, isn't it?" He paused momentarily,
then nodded to himself. "Oh, I bet you're one of those little
genius kids they show on the news, the ones who skip grades and go
straight to college before they're old enough to drive--"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"I am not a genius!" Miranda
snapped, then winced as she suddenly realized what she had said.
Looking around quickly, she groaned, her cheeks reddening as people
turned to stare at her outburst.
</p><span><a name='more'></a></span><p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Look, whoever you are," she
began again, keeping her voice low. "I don't know what your
problem is, but I really need to study. So if you don't mind, please
just leave me alone. Or sit somewhere else; the train isn't exactly
full."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The irritating man only grinned, baring
far too many teeth. "Oh, I'd much rather sit here and talk to
you. So, answer me honestly: how old are you, really?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda wanted to tell the man to piss
off, but to her surprise, answered the man's question. "I am
twenty-seven years old."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><i>Wait, why did I tell him tha--</i></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, twenty-seven? Sure you are.
And why would a twenty-seven year old <i>woman</i> be reading physics
books for, exactly? Surely you'd have graduated college by that
age...."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda felt her blood rising again,
forgetting her shock. "I'll have you know I'm taking a double
major, and going for my Master's, and... and it's none of your
business anyway."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Despite her obvious anger, his
unnerving grin only grew wider. "Well, if you're so busy, why
are you taking the train today? They won't let you drive a car at
your age?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"I have a driver's license! And a
very nice car, by the way," she snapped, unable to stop herself.
"And I'm taking the train because I'm going to my friend
Samantha's wedding! I <i>had</i> hoped I could get a little studying
in on the ride, but clearly not."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"A wedding? How interesting... and
what role are you playing, miss...?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Miranda Warren," she said,
"And I'll have you know I'm the Maid of Honor and... and why the
hell am I even telling you all of thi--"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Maid of Honor? No, I'm sorry
dear, but that's not right."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda blinked. She was getting
increasingly confused by this whole conversation. Why was she
answering this total stranger's questions, and... "What do you
mean? I am definitely the Maid of Honor--"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, didn't you hear? You know
that I'm Samantha's oldest and dearest friend, and she called me
earlier; it turns out they don't need you to be the Maid of Honor
anymore."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda blinked. Her head was starting
to hurt, a sharp pinprick behind her eyes. She looked at the strange
creep, who she had never seen before in her life, but who she was
also suddenly certain was Samantha's oldest and dearest friend.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Well... no, I... I don't... I
don't think this is quite right, I'm sure Sam would've told me about
y--"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"You missed a phone call from her
earlier this morning. You were too busy playing with yourself in bed
to answer the phone, don't you remember?" The man's words seemed
to jostle Miranda's memories loose. She clearly remembered missing a
phone call earlier that morning, while she'd been distracted by her
fingers.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh... right. Of course. Um..."
Miranda hesitated, part of her wondering how the man had known about
her masturbation. <i>Is there a stain on my pants?</i></p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Anyway, it turns out the flower
girl had to cancel at the last moment, probably that nasty flu bug
that's going around or something. And Samantha wants you to replace
her."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda stared at the man for a long
moment. That could simply not be true. "Wait, I don't think I
heard you correctly; Sam wants me, <i>me</i>, to be--"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"To be the flower girl at her
wedding, yes."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The man's words hit her like a hammer
blow. All her life, Miranda had been dealing with jokes about her
height, her youthful appearance, her total lack of breasts....</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But never from Sam! A pang of utter
betrayal shot through her. She couldn't believe it, wouldn't believe
it.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">And yet, the man was Sam's oldest and
dearest friend, and had no reason to lie to her about such a horrible
thing.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"I am not going to be a flower
girl!" Miranda declared, resolutely. "I--I don't
understand, surely she can do without a flower girl? The Maid of
Honor is much more important, and, and... and besides, who would take
my place as Maid of Honor?!"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He just shook his head, and sighed.
"Now, now, don't be such a silly little girl. You know perfectly
well just how incredibly important the flower girl role is; the
wedding could never go ahead without a flower girl. As for the Maid
of Honor, I'm sure Sam can just bump up one of her adult friends to
fill in for you while you're busy tossing out flowers."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda shook her head. It felt like a
war was going on in her mind. "But... but... no, no this can't
be right, Sam would never ask me to do something so, so... so
embarrassing! She knows how I feel about my size...."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, it's simple enough, if you
think about it. How well do you know Sam's other friends?" The
man asked.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda thought about it. "Well,
Sam graduated back when I began my grad school program, so I really
haven't seen her hometown much, and most of her friends have never
actually met me--"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"See, Samantha's got it all
figured out; no one else at the wedding knows you, so everyone will
just assume you're a normal little girl when you walk down the aisle,
throwing out your flowers. No one will have to know you're really her
friend Miranda at all."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda considered that; it <i>seemed</i>
to make a sort of sense. And Samantha did seem to have all the bases
covered. "But wait, I don't have anything to wear except my Maid
of Honor dress--"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, leave that to me. Samantha
sent me ahead to meet you on the train. We'll get off together at
your stop, and go shopping for a pretty little flower girl dress,
just in your size. And we'll have to get your hair done, come to
think of it."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He looked around, and out the window,
at the passing countryside. "Hmm. Speaking of stops, when <i>are</i>
we scheduled to reach your stop, and for that matter, when is the
wedding?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, we're the next stop,
actually. Shouldn't be long. The wedding begins at two o'clock--"
she answered, wincing as her headache flared up again. Somewhere in
the back of her mind, a tiny voice wondered how he didn't know
already....</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Great!" he exclaimed.
"That'll leave us plenty of time to get you ready for your big
role."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Sir, do you have a ticket?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Both of them looked up at a rather
busty train conductor standing in the aisle. Miranda blinked; the
woman's uniform was missing the top three buttons, showing off
entirely too much cleavage. Given the way her nipples were poking
through the shirt, her bra was obviously just as lost as the three
buttons.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, you again," the man said
with an exasperated sigh. He reached into his pocket, and yanked out
a plain, white bra. "Here you go, Miss Boobs."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The woman smiled politely, taking out a
hole punch and quickly clipping a series of holes into the garment.
Then, much to Miranda's shock, the busty woman neatly snipped off
another of her buttons, her braless breasts now on the verge of
spilling out entirely. She handed the button to the man. "Your
change, sir. Have a nice ride today. You too, miss."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda watched the woman wander away
down the aisle, asking for tickets. "What was that about?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, don't worry about her, she
was just a little bit of fun on a long, boring ride. Now, we've got
half an hour or so before we reach our stop, so tell me all about
yourself and Samantha...."</p>
<p align="CENTER" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">***</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"But, I don't need braces?!"
Miranda whined, as the man dragged her across the step.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Puddle," he said, ignoring
her question.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda dutifully lifted the hem of her
new dress as she stepped onto the curb. She'd spent the past two
hours trying out different outfits at the bridal store, before
finding one the man was satisfied with, and didn't want to get it
dirty now. After all, he'd probably insist they go back and find her
a replacement.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"But, my teeth are fine, I don't
see why I need to see an orthodontist?" she tried again, as the
man held the clinic door open. Her wide skirts, almost petticoats,
made it difficult to squeeze through the narrow doorway.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"You'll look cute with braces,"
he said, letting the door close. Miranda started to continue her
argument, but was distracted by a sudden tingling between her legs.
For an instant, she thought she needed to use the restroom. She'd
almost certainly need the man's help to get out of her skirts.
Thankfully, the sensation disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ignoring her, the man pushed through
the inner doors, and into the clinic's waiting room.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The room was crowded; at least, it was
until the man told the families the clinic was closing early for the
day and they should all leave immediately to go and buy their kids
ice cream.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda watched as the families left.
"How did you know the clinic was closing?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Because I'm a grownup, Miranda,"
he said dismissively, knocking on the receptionist's window.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"So am I!" Miranda whined,
scowling at him. He'd made her practice the look in the mirror at the
bridal shop, until she got it just right. "And my name is Randi,
not Miranda!"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The receptionist answered the man's
impatient knocking, cutting her tantrum short. She waited, sitting on
a seat at his urging, and idly kicked her feet. As usual, the waiting
room chair was just a little too high for her to reach the floor.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She sighed, growing bored, as the man
chatted with the woman behind the counter. The chatter quickly became
outright flirtation. Finally the man turned to her. "Stay here,
while I go have a chat with the doc. And don't kick your feet, you're
wrinkling your dress."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She glared at him, but felt an instant
sense of relief once he was out of sight.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Sitting still in the too-tall chair,
Miranda's mind wandered. She still couldn't get over Samantha sending
that bizarre man to intercept her before the wedding, and that her
best friend actually expected her to serve as flower girl.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Hopefully she could sort everything out
once they reached the church; she'd explain to Sam how embarrassing
being flower girl would be to her, and she was sure Sam would
understand and call the matter off.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Looking down at her new dress, she idly
wondered what had become of her textbook and luggage. The man had
told her to leave both behind on the train, and she had, but that
book was expensive and without her luggage, what would she wear after
the wedding?</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Her thoughts were interrupted as a
nurse appeared. "Hello honey, can you follow me please?"
The nurse stepped back, gesturing at the open doorway, and smiling
down at her.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda sighed, hopping down from her
seat and letting the nurse lead her into the office proper. Passing
several small dental suites, she was soon ushered through a curtain
into a small room with a large dentist chair set up. Sam's strange
friend was already there, waiting with the orthodontist.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"So, you're the little girl
getting her braces today, huh?" The blonde doctor asked, pulling
the curtain closed behind them.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"I'm a <i>big</i> girl,"
Miranda corrected the woman, rolling her eyes and scowling as she had
practiced.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, that's so <i>cuuute</i>,"
the orthodontist gushed, helping the nurse tie a bib around the
college student's neck.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda felt a sudden heat blossom
between her legs, and shuddered. Surely she wasn't actually getting
aroused at a time like this?</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The nurse pushed a tray across the
dental chair, as the orthodontist put on her gloves. Miranda looked
at the tray, and gulped. The shallow pan was loaded down with ominous
metal bits, rubber bands, wires, and a variety of fiendish looking
clamps and pliers.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Okay dear, my name is Doctor
Nullen, but you can call me Brenda, okay?" Miranda nodded, not
looking up from the worrisome tray. "We're going to be giving
you a full set of braces today, along with your new palette expander.
Do you know what that is?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda did; several of her friends had
worn palette expanders back in elementary school. Recalling how
painful the horrid devices were supposed to be, she knew she didn't
want one, and started to say exactly that, when the man suddenly
interrupted her.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Tell the nice lady why you need
braces, Randi." He smiled down at her.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"I need big ugly braces because
I'm going to be a flower girl, and flower girls have to look the
part," she replied instantly, without thinking.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oooh, that's so cute!" The
women exclaimed as one. Miranda squirmed in her chair; her pussy was
getting moist, as the odd heat between her legs reignited.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Well ladies, you should begin,
and go as fast as you can; we don't have all day." At the man's
urging, the women immediately set to work. He stared at Miranda, his
face strange. "Do what the women tell you, Randi."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda started to reply harshly, not
at all wanting to go forward with the totally unnecessary dental
work, but Doctor Brenda interrupted her. "Open your mouth
really, really wide, dear."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Obediently, the diminutive college
student popped her mouth wide open, and soon her cheeks were packed
full of cotton wads, as the ladies set to work installing her new
gear.
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The strange man waited silently,
watching the slow progress. After five minutes, he sighed in boredom
and pushed aside the curtain. "You three carry on, I'm going to
go have a chat with the other assistants. And that hot slut of a
receptionist."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda squirmed, as the women worked,
their fingers seemingly never out of her mouth. The palette expander
went in place quickly, wedged against the roof of her mouth. The
doctor stuck a special key into the device and twisted it, each turn
causing the palette expander to widen outward, pressing tightly
against her upper gums.
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">She winced, blinking tears out of her
eyes; the expander wasn't quite painful, yet, but it was still very
uncomfortable.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Even worse than the growing discomfort,
it was a real hassle to speak with. And every garbled question just
brought more "Oh, that's soooo cute!" responses from the
women. Before Miranda knew it, her pussy was fully on fire, and it
was all she could do to keep from rubbing herself to orgasm right
there on the chair!</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">For nearly an hour the two women filled
Miranda's mouth with countless pieces of metal, while strange moans
and laughter filtered through the curtain from the main office
beyond.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">At last, the women finished, putting
the final rubber band in place. Miranda's mouth felt bizarre, odd
pressures pushing and pulling her teeth every which way.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Do you want to see your new
jewelry, Randi?" The orthodontist asked rhetorically. Not even
bothering to pretend to wait for an answer, she swung a hanging
mirror over the chair and Miranda got her first look at her new
mouth.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Her tongue had been gently feeling out
each and every horrible new piece of metal, so she knew there would a
real mouthful peering back at her. But she was still shocked at the
colorful display before her.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Every tooth bracket shone back at her
in bright reds and greens and blues and even pinks; a veritable
rainbow ran across her teeth. And wrapping around each bracket was an
even more colorful rubber band, nearly neon and crisscrossing their
way from bracket to bracket, some in the back actually running from
her top teeth to her bottom molars.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"The kids all love the new
colorful designs," the blonde doctor assured her, patting her on
the head gently. "You're quite lucky, really; when I was your
age, we only had icky bare metal to look forward to."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"How owd err oooo?" Miranda
asked miserably, wincing as spittle flew everywhere.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, that's soooo cute! I'm
twenty-six, honey," the woman said, as Miranda's pussy pulsed.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Uuu, dabt's owd!" Miranda
exclaimed instantly, despite the woman being a year younger than
herself. She squeezed her legs together, as her panties grew even
damper.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The two women hoisted her off the
chair, and started to walk her back through the curtain into the main
office, only to be stopped short by the other five nurses and the
receptionist.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Brenda, we've all had a great
idea!" A tall assistant beamed at her boss. She blinked, then
looked down at Miranda. "Ooh, she's so cute! Do you like your
new braces, honey?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda moaned, despite herself, and
wondered why all the women were showing off their cleavage like
brazen sluts. It appeared that all of their outfits had been altered
to reveal as much of their ample bosoms as possible. It made her only
more aware of her own inadequate chest, and the unnecessary bra she'd
left behind in the dressing rooms of the bridal shop across the
street.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Um... Cindy, why are you all
dressed like whor--er, uh," The orthodontist frowned, looking
down at the short flower girl.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Let me explain," the man cut
in, grinning that odd smirk. "I've talked to the ladies, and
they had a great idea to improve the office. From now on, all of your
employees will wear braces full-time, whether they need them or not."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"It'll really help us with the
kids," a brunette assistant gushed, seemingly unaware that her
braless breasts were one good giggle from popping free of her
unbuttoned blouse. "They'll know that we all know what they're
going through, and won't be as frightened. Plus we can use each
other's mouths to show the parents what their children's braces will
look like when they're installed."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The blonde doctor blinked, her grip on
Miranda's shoulder tightening enough to be almost painful. "Um,
Terri, I... I don't really think that's a good--"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"You know, as the orthodontist,
you need to set a good standard," the man said, still smirking.
The blonde blinked, then slowly nodded. He stroked his chin
thoughtfully. "In fact, you really should go first. We've
already decided on everyone else's braces, but I think you need
something extra special. Go and pick out the most extreme set of
braces you can dream up, and the nurses will help you put it all in
place."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda stepped away from the woman,
rubbing her shoulder. The woman's grip had tightened like a vice as
the man had spoke. A look of fear washed over the doctor's face.
"I... I really don't... don't want... b-braces... a-again."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The man's grin broadened, becoming
almost predatory. "Oh, you've had braces before? Tell us all
about them."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The doctor swallowed deeply, her eyes
glancing from woman to woman desperately. She wiped a bead of sweat
from her forehead. "Y-y-yes, I had braces... for seven years.
It... it was not a pleasant experience. I had to have them redone,
the first set were set up wrong and the damage had to be fixed. It
took years, and ruined my whole childhood. It's actually why I became
an orthodontist; to make sure no child ever had to go through the
mess I did."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The man shrugged, unmoved by her
account. "How interesting. Perhaps you could recreate that first
set, and put them on your teeth right now...." He tugged at his
goatee, considering. "In fact, you will do exactly that. Then
you can show all the parents of your patients what happens when they
go to a bad orthodontist to save a buck. You should try to ruin that
perfect smile of yours. Give yourself a really severe underbite,
maybe some unsightly gaps in your front teeth. Make your mouth an
absolute nightmare of poor dental work."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Doctor Brenda gulped, her face pale,
but spun around and began digging through the cabinets of her own
operation room, quickly picking out the largest, cheapest, ugliest
bare metal brackets and wires.
</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Katie, Donna, you two can help me
install these. Katie, I'll need you to hold the mirror while I cut
the gum fibers around my upper incisors, and Donna, you can get the
orthopedic headgear prepared while I do that. I'll need to be wearing
the headpieces for at least twenty-two hours a day, if I'm to really
get that underbite set in place, so get the extra-padded set from the
supply closet."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The women nodded, seemingly not
noticing the way their boss's voice shook, and quickly set to work.
The man looked around at the waiting women, all of whom seemed to be
waiting patiently for his next words. He gestured to the very busty
receptionist.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Me, Sir?" she asked, acting
coy as she sauntered up to him. The dental assistants all shot her an
evil glare.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Yeah, I was thinking about it,
and you should totally get all of your teeth pulled. I'm sure the
nurses can manage that without the orthod--er, <i>Brenda's</i> help."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Her mouth fell open, revealing her
perfect teeth, as the nurses all grinned. "But, you said I had a
beautiful smile, Sir? Surely I'd look better with a normal set of
braces, like the other girls?"</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He just smirked. "Yeah, but you'll
give even better head without any teeth. But I'll tell you what; you
will let these nurses pull every tooth out of your head right now and
then you can get dentures with braces glued onto them, so you don't
stand out from the other employees. Oh, and finger yourself like a
whore while they pull out your teeth. In fact, all of you will
masturbate furiously as you pull out her teeth."</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The pretty young receptionist shuddered
slightly, holding her head as if she had the same headache that kept
flaring up for Miranda, then gulped and obediently followed the
dental assistants into another clinic room.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">"Oh, and the first nurse to cum
will have her own front two teeth pulled out, top and bottom. And
will never wear dentures," the stranger called out, as the women
disappeared through another set of curtains.</p>
<p style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Miranda walked out of the office with
the man holding her hand, as the first cry of pain and lust rang out
behind them.</p><br /><p></p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-25272480169637814972020-08-14T10:22:00.002-07:002020-08-14T10:27:11.945-07:00Ticketed: Part 2, 3, 4<p><span face="" style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-line;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Happy Friday, everybody!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Spent longer than I intended making images for these captions, and I've got a few more finished, but I'm rewriting the text a bit. I've got a little subplot idea I'm working on.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I've got a few other captions I want to finish, so I'll probably post those before I get to the next part of this series.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Hope you all enjoy these!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">- B-Rex</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ABeU_r5UG-k/Xza36kTEXZI/AAAAAAAAK2I/502DSEz9TIwMIIcdKVtco7amS79uXUGqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/game%2Bplaying%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ABeU_r5UG-k/Xza36kTEXZI/AAAAAAAAK2I/502DSEz9TIwMIIcdKVtco7amS79uXUGqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/game%2Bplaying%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p><span></span></p><a name='more'></a>Hugh Jazz Mofo sighed, as his game character died again, as a huge-breasted gynoid blasted her with a ray beam.<p></p><p></p><p><span face="" style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-line;">"Dammit! These controls are shit."</span></p><p><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-line;">Unthinkingly, he slipped a hand back and scratched at his lower back, as he waited for his character to respawn.</span></span></p><p><span face="" style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-line;">"Quit scratching your tattoo, or it'll never heal!" Gemma, his marketing team leader, snapped, startling him into nearly dropping his controller.</span></p><p><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-line;">He sighed again, annoyed. Truth was, his humiliating tattoo would've healed weeks ago, if not for his ill-advised request for a more colorful trampstamp.</span></span></p><p><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="background-color: white; white-space: pre-line;">He'd immediately </span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="white-space: pre-line;">regretted his words when not two days later another Pick-My-Ink ticket was snatched from the endless sea of cheap Chinese-made merch, and he soon found his trampstamp being tattooed over again, only now with a mix of colors, each new tattoo slightly offset, turning each letter into a hideous rainbow riot.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="white-space: pre-line;">Gemma frowned, turning her attention to his game for the first time, as he resumed playing. "Why exactly does that robot have giant tits?"</span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="white-space: pre-line;">Hugh Jazz laughed. "I may have downloaded a few mods... This is an old game, and besides, the subscribers like watching big bouncy tits. And this game has great physics."</span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="white-space: pre-line;">Gemma rolled her eyes, as he sent his amateur archaeologist character flipping across a rooftop just in time to empty her guns into a gynoid's hilariously over-sized chest.</span></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="white-space: pre-line;">"Ah, of course. Oh, speaking of big, bouncy assets...." she said, reaching for her phone.</span></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span face="" style="color: #241e12;"><span style="white-space: pre-line;">***</span></span></span></p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">“I can't, this is crazy!”</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">“You have to, the disclai--”</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">“Fuck your disclaimer!! I am not getting tits!!!” Hugh Jazz pronounced angrily, staring at her phone. The latest ticket had been found, according to her messages. “Who the fuck signed off on a 'Saline-Away' ticket anyway?!”</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">Gemma rolled her eyes again, exasperated. “You did, just like every other dumb idea on the list. I told you to read through it, most of these ideas came from your fan club sites; you were supposed to pick a few dozen you liked, not sign off on every damn one of them. We've got over five-thousand categories!!”</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">He groaned. "I am not getting implants, dammit. I don't care how many new subscribers I ge--"</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">He stopped, as his marketing team leader flicked her phone to his latest analytic report.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; text-align: center; white-space: pre-line;">***</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UIxo_obmyac/Xza5-UxZ-xI/AAAAAAAAK2U/_o-2Xz3CyYoXxqPojC0FOU1BRkDhRhASACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Butt%2BImplants%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UIxo_obmyac/Xza5-UxZ-xI/AAAAAAAAK2U/_o-2Xz3CyYoXxqPojC0FOU1BRkDhRhASACLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Butt%2BImplants%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"Oh. My. Gawd!! He's huge!!!" Gemma gasped, as the nurse slid Hugh Jazz's shorts down.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"Yeah, Dr. Seymour does great work," the nurse agreed, winking as the sleeping gamer snored. She pulled her golden ticket out of a pocket and smiled broadly. "I'm so glad I went with butt implants like you suggested; it turned out that the doctor couldn't actually find any saline-filled butt implants so he had to make do with a set of breast implants originally meant for a stripper who cancelled her appointment when she realized just how huge they were."</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">Gemma was motioning for her cameraman to keep filming, then glanced back at the nurse. "Wait, are you saying...oh my gawd, that's hilarious!"</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">She lightly smacked the unconscious gamer's spherical rump, eliciting a soft moan. "Looks like you got those breast implants after all, Jazzi."</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; text-align: center; white-space: pre-line;">***</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">Hugh Jazz groaned as he struggled to pull up his pants over his new badonkadonk.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">To his surprise, he'd been spared carrying a set of fake tits when his crazed fan had chosen a butt enlargement instead. Though his relief was short lived when he awoke from surgery to learn the surgeon had used the largest butt implants he could fit in his caboose.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">Watching him struggle futilely, Gemma finally sighed, shaking her head, and motioned to two of her marketing teammates. Quickly the two men put down their phones and assisted the online gamer in his struggle to get his jeans over his giant ass.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">“Oh, dammit!!” Hugh Jazz screamed in frustration, as the jeans ripped apart. He kicked them off angrily, and slung them into the corner of his apartment, atop the other three pair he'd ruined that morning. “Those were two hundred bucks!?!”</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">“I told you, you're going to need to think of a new wardrobe, nothing below the waist is going to fit over that--” Gemma paused, as her phone beeped. She pulled it out of her purse and scanned the screen. “Uh, um... well....”</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">“For fuck's sake, what now?” Jazz gasped, as he tugged irritably at his boxers, which were stretched nearly to the breaking point and kept slipping down to reveal the crack of his ass.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">“Maybe it's a good thing we didn't go shopping yet. Some girl just found the 'Fab-Five' ticket.”</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">“What the hell does that mean?”</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; text-align: center; white-space: pre-line;">*****</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V5JCsfGfmyo/Xza6r63kA8I/AAAAAAAAK2c/sZfIksuCkTURlYLjFdKTZ315kb0llbRPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/hugh%2Bjazz%2Bmofo%2Bbig%2Bbutt%2B1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V5JCsfGfmyo/Xza6r63kA8I/AAAAAAAAK2c/sZfIksuCkTURlYLjFdKTZ315kb0llbRPgCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/hugh%2Bjazz%2Bmofo%2Bbig%2Bbutt%2B1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">Hugh Jazz gasped as he looked at his reflection, and particularly his huge ass.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"Oh gawd! These are way too tight," he complained, as the Fab Five just giggled.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">The five gay men were the stars of a small fashion-themed television show he'd never heard of, but was apparently popular with the demographics his marketing team were trying to target. Exactly why, he had no idea.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">At least the men had agreed to let him stick with wearing some of his new merch, though he'd been annoyed when they pulled out one of his pink t-shirts.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><i>Still, at least it covers up my damn tattoo,</i> he thought, sighing as the camera crew finally finished wrapping up the show.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">He spent a few minutes staring in shock at his new ass, still unable to get over just how huge he was.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"Wow, I wish you'd had that when we were dating, James--oh, wait, it's Jazz now, isn't it?"</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">Hugh Jazz spun around, shocked. "Lance?!"</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"Hello Jazz, I was in the area on business, and your lovely marketing consultant informed me that you were doing a shoot here today," Lance replied, eyeing the gamer's massive rump.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">He could only stare at the gay man in horror; Lance had been his fake boyfriend the previous year, when Gemma saved his ass from a poorly worded tweet that had sent the internet into a tizzy.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">One little gay joke, and he'd been stuck pretending to come out publicly as the only way to keep from being canceled by a twitter mob. Just the memory of it sent a tremor of rage and humiliation coursing through him.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"Uh, it's good to see you too, Lance," he said lamely, not really sure how to respond.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">He hadn't seen the gay lawyer since Gemma had finally agreed that he could safely end the fake relationship without incurring the wrath of the cancel culture crowd again. As he recalled, despite being well paid for his role in the scheme, Lance had been rather upset at the sudden dumping.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"Well, I didn't really come here just to see your new butt, Jazz," Lance said, grinning. He withdrew some documents from his briefcase, then held out a pen. "I actually came here to get your signature on these contracts. My new client has been looking to get into social media advertising, and your marketing consultant thought you could use a corporate sponsor. My client, Mister Dick, is a huge fan of your livestreams."</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"A sponsor? No one told me--" he began, before looking at the top of the title page of the sponsorship contract and gasped. Lance smiled broadly at his reaction.</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;">"Congrats, Jazz. It looks like you've finally reached the big time."</p><p style="background-color: white; color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; text-align: center; white-space: pre-line;">*****</p>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-7522279325607672372020-08-07T16:55:00.009-07:002020-08-07T17:44:39.722-07:00Ticketed: Part 1Happy 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.<div><br /></div><div>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).</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was going to title this series 'Publicititty Stunts', but 'Ticketed' seemed more subtle, so I went with that.</div><div><br /></div><div>Cause I'm all about being subtle.</div><div><br /></div><div>- B-Rex</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-07Pvf2DfWMQ/Xy3mPJKJuHI/AAAAAAAAK0M/9AS5ge-y-mQ6pIp-BEsKmQfb73Q8MHU0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Branded_cap1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-07Pvf2DfWMQ/Xy3mPJKJuHI/AAAAAAAAK0M/9AS5ge-y-mQ6pIp-BEsKmQfb73Q8MHU0QCLcBGAsYHQ/s640/Branded_cap1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div><span style="background-color: #fff2cc;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">* * * * *</span></div><div><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">Hugh Jazz Mofo.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">Now Hugh Jazz Mofo was plastered across all of his merch, and his driver's license to boot.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">“But... <em>Every Hole's A Goal!!!?!!!” </em>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!”</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">“You have to, Jame—er, <em>Jazz</em>, 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.”</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">“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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">“--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.”</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">“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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">“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.</span></p><p style="color: #241e12; font-size: 16px; line-height: 1.5; margin: 10px 0px; text-align: center; white-space: pre-line;"><span style="background-color: #f8f9de;">* * * * *</span></p></div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-88299516257839557782020-07-31T14:32:00.001-07:002020-07-31T17:39:54.432-07:00Slam HerHappy Friday, everybody! And finally a second caption in one week!! <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o8PI2opOzcE/XySMuxdkDYI/AAAAAAAAKyU/he9be0npzB80S-PFj7go1TLQfgzC24HdQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1784/SlamHer_cap1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="820" data-original-width="1784" height="230" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-o8PI2opOzcE/XySMuxdkDYI/AAAAAAAAKyU/he9be0npzB80S-PFj7go1TLQfgzC24HdQCLcBGAsYHQ/w500-h230/SlamHer_cap1.jpg" width="500" /></a></div><div><br /><div>I really should do more captions with this sort of theme, I think.</div></div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>- B-Rex</div><div><br /></div><div>Edit: I forgot to mention, I was inspired by Alyssa's recent "<a href="http://makingmaidens.blogspot.com/2019/01/200k-insta-story-10k.html">An Insta Story</a>" 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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>Hope that's of interest to you all.</div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4091983369431931850.post-80322251995091980302020-07-28T22:03:00.000-07:002020-07-28T22:03:20.312-07:00New Comment PolicyHello 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.<div><br /></div><div>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).</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>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.</div><div><br /></div><div>The basic idea was that a<font face="inherit"> 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 t</font><span style="font-family: inherit;">hat story synopsis is more detailed than the text I wrote, which never really gets into the setup.</span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JPTDYkJrKCg/XyDFf925ThI/AAAAAAAAKww/EZ_rP3Ym4dk_iJj7ncZj7xBAu1gphqkQgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1663/785311219%2Bmorph%2B2a%2Bcropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1661" data-original-width="1663" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JPTDYkJrKCg/XyDFf925ThI/AAAAAAAAKww/EZ_rP3Ym4dk_iJj7ncZj7xBAu1gphqkQgCLcBGAsYHQ/w400-h400/785311219%2Bmorph%2B2a%2Bcropped.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div><p><font color="#000000"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<font size="4"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">You
can't really expect me to cook for them? I barely know how to boil an egg,
for fuck's sake!”</span></span></font></span></font></p>
<p><font color="#000000"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<font size="4"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Practice
makes perfect, dear.”</span></span></font></span></font></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<font color="#000000"><font size="4">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.</font></font></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<font color="#000000"><font size="4">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.</font></font></p>
<p><font color="#000000"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<font size="4"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Oh,
you... you cruel bastard,” she hissed, glaring at him. He just
smirked, and headed out the door.</span></span></font></span></font></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<font color="#000000"><font size="4">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.</font></font></p>
<p><font color="#000000"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<font size="4"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Dammit,
Jerry, I can't spend all day on the island!!” she yelled, as she
heard his car start.</span></span></font></span></font></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<font color="#000000"><font size="4">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.</font></font></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<font color="#000000"><font size="4">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.</font></font></p>
<p><font color="#000000"><span style="text-decoration: none;">“<font size="4"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">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!”</span></span></font></span></font></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<font color="#000000"><font size="4">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.</font></font></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<font color="#000000"><font size="4">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.</font></font></p>
<p style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<font color="#000000"><font size="4">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.</font></font></p>- B-Rex</div>Berserkasaurus Rexhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09344932972038475976noreply@blogger.com7