A Warning [READ THE TEXT BELOW THE IMAGE]

THE CONTENTS OF THE CAPTION IS ONLY RELEVANT TO WHAT IS WRITTEN BELOW, AND BOTH ARE FROM THE VIEWPOINT OF THE NARRATOR. I DO NOT HATE TRANSFORMATIONAL ARTISTS AND I APPRECIATE THEIR WORK.

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My knowledgeable correspondent called me and told me “to witness a justice served”. He is pretty much fixated on those abusing their transformative powers, as a part of his detective work investigating all those underground transformation ability-users and above-ground communities. I’m more familiar with transgender stuff, and when he told me the whole process will be much of my interest I immediately hopped onto my car, following him.  

One of the safe houses his team has is large enough to hold a chamber for interrogating the captured. Well, this time, he told me, is a serial transformation abilities user who had a particularly notorious record of randomly zipping hapless victims far-away, with a wide range of the ways and end results he had used and done. So incredible, describing them will fill a whole volume.

His arms were tied to the back, blindfolded and gagged. His body was sedated and barely moving. “Move him off to that large glass tank,” he instructed me to help while untying the knot behind the chair. Even in a coma, we still felt the warmth and wobbling weight of the “convict”. The tank had no water but filled almost to the brim with a kind of sugar cube-like salt. The chamber was dim, but the salt still glittered and illuminated the place mildly, flashing like a rainbow, and with a slight gem-like translucence. I might had seen it somewhere before…

Stepping up to the right level, he then told me, “Leave him here”, eyeing the small platform tied to chains. We were careful not to touch the pool of crystal. He lowered the chains and sank the body below the unnatural prisms. The salt swallowed that body like quicksand, sucking and burying the body in, radiantly shining wherever the flesh was touched. “He’s done, get ourselves a drink”, he signaled.

A while later we were back in the chamber, slipping from small flasks of beer. “You’ll see what I mean by “a punishment worse than death sentence”. He raised the platform, much lighter than a medium-build man should be. The body’s hands were still tied, the blindfold and tape were still there, barely moving. But who was it, the one he captured certainly had no soiled safari hat, not the two bright feathers almost falling out? Not the clothing either, the dull red shirt and shorts he had. And I couldn’t even tell if that was a boy or a girl (not even the wimp I just saw), androgynous dark hair and a childish figure. They’d fit into the surrounding wilderness, maybe complete with a blank memory and eagerness to explore the woods. Black gloves and a backpack, make no mistake! The punished was gone, but not so much.

“Incredible! What were you thinking when you bought this tank of transformative crystals? And you are simply using this on him?”

“Ever seen Jurassic Park? Those nearly magical crystals are from a similar facility, partly open as a safari to tourists, off the coast of Japan out of business a few years ago. They used to have loads of wildlife there, trying to experiment with this substance. Something catastrophic happened and the facility was abandoned, nay, destroyed.”

“How does that substance end up here?”

“Some miners are willing to be paid lucrative wages to be on the archipelago, mining them at the threat of unknown mutated wildlife there.”

“Well…” That account wasn’t barely coherent. Maybe he had better contacts in the deep, being more of animate transformation man than myself, but a mineral that’s guaranteed to be more highly priced than diamond for the same woes my correspondent condemned? What was he, another of the transformational predators… on the top of the food chain?

“Well… I just can’t swallow what you have just done. Quite unethical to be blunt”. I told him.

“You haven’t seen the real power of this crystal. You will see what will be done next to compensate the animalized victims.” He signaled me again to remove the tank, the body resting on top of the pool. I couldn’t hesitate, his eyes already sternly focused on my torso.

“As you want.”

Out in the woods, he suddenly kicked over and threw half of the contents of the tank over the patch of grass, the body bumping out. “Oh hey! What are you really thinking?” “You haven’t seen the full potential of this starry sand. In a week some girls right out of the undergrowth will roam here, and I will do a service for the lost.”

I couldn’t even muster my courage to stare at this fiend. I quickly speeded away from the safe house, with only an excuse and farewell, and back into my driver’s seat.

What was the worst that has happened after I left?

 

A raccoon searched through the leaves and branches for something. It wandered around, almost aimlessly, until it saw a rough, glowing outline of a heap. It quickly sneaked towards the pile, where a cover-like and cloud-colored thing rolled off.

A treasure?

 

(If you look at the name of the image file or the tags I have already given the game away.)
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The Best Gift Ever

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PanaMilk

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My Own Goddess

“She’s cute… I wish I could be with her… maybe forever…”

Another 3am, another night spent with the glowing screen. I was drowsing, drowsing like I would be out of the world, wretched. A few sheets of note are scatter around my desk, waiting for me. The mind was almost blank except for her. Praying in the deep. This tab, this item on Amazon… It’d change my life. No, it’d take me to a life I’d never dreamt of. Reborn, maybe. In the mirror I now see the reflection of her body, my angel’s body… my body.

I am my own angel. 

She was an angel. An angel in my heart. An angel from my first sight of her – when I was in a corner, far from the teacher and other boys. Her pristine voice penetrated me from outside the wall I made with my notebook, carrying me from my seclusion to her heavenly face… Love at the first sight.

The face… it was softly pressed on my brain, coming up from time to time. Day after day, even with her sitting over the corner, lively and fluttering, I’d better be left alone. I gazed her from behind my books, her aura radiantly shining – with her best pals, alone, or barely away. Not a boy in class ever approached her. She wasn’t just a lowly angel, she’d be too sanctified to be molested! I wasn’t brave enough to ask this goddess out even if I wanted to make a girlfriend out of her.

“I wish I could be with her… maybe forever…” One day, the classroom was emptied, except for a daydreaming me. The day was almost gone. What were left were light breezes, a tilting sun and drips of dew. I dreamt of her, the sunlight all over her, halo-like. And as I dreamt, she was really there, standing over the whiteboard… gazing at me. The face she had, I didn’t know if she’d be cozy with me… And she left, leaving me behind. I wasn’t going to ask her. I couldn’t… What’d she say? Would she even accept me? Her flowing hairs, still glittering under the gilded light, drifted away. Her voice echoes on… If I couldn’t be with her, I’d better get her. Her mind and body… What if I could get a hold of both of them, not by catching her by surprise, but… something else? With her, I’d be god-like…

I’d like to be my own goddess. 


That dream was strange, just like what I thought at the end of it, but I no longer lied to myself. My heart throbbed and the blood gushed every time I remembered the time I dreamt about a girl that almost never existed. I vowed find a way to reach her someday, and that day came when I was holding a strange vial, half a grand apiece. But even with the damning eyes of my other friends (real or online) I was determined. I gulped the honey-colored liquid down, fully. 

The memories of the process are haphazard when I think about it, now that the flurry frenzy is long over. At once my mind was wavering, hopping out and in consciousness, and quite trippy for seconds. If there were real ascensions I would have experienced the of it. Pretty quickly, the whole room around me wasn’t the same stuffed place I knew for months. It was still deep in the night, but under the mystical grey veneer bright wall paint and a few pastel plushes. I fell into her place. 

Getting to the bathroom and lighting the dim lamp over me, the amber eyes I see in the mirror are hers. I used to imagine seeing, or even touching her in close. But this was something else altogether. My mind was now a permanent part of her, elevated, now joined with me in the past and for the future. 

“Gorgeous me…” my pajama’s bottom piece was slipping off my thighs, leaving one side with only hole into my lushly colored panties. Suggestive of my body’s decent figures, eh? The whole of that had a dim, heavenly aura to it. I’m lucky enough to start owning and appreciating this body, or just more proactive than anyone in claiming the girl for myself. The 2-pieces easily stripped off…

“Aha…!” Just as I smiled “her” face also smiled in the mirror. A few more weird faces, and even an ahegao, the face in the mirror did nothing but followed, with “her” fresh cheeks. Her flesh felt miraculously real. “Cute me…” I closed onto the mirror to meticulously glean over every spot of my spotless body. The nearer my face was to the mirror, the girl in the mirror leaned closer to me, until we made a “mwwwu” with my lips and the lips in the mirror… “me kissing myself, my girl and myself, one and the same…” I finally got the kiss her in the least imaginable way her potential boyfriends could can up with, and with the kiss we’d forget time passing. 

What would her – my parents think when they would wake up in the morning? The mark of my drool, all over the mark on the glass? I’d tasted her “forbidden fruit” (remembering what I said when I first admired the body) – why shouldn’t I “fall into earthliness”? “Show me everything you have on your body”, I murmured to myself… And my right hand reminded me of my places I could touch. “Mmm… soft boobs… so soft… aww so soft and gigantic…” I moaned sweetly and lustfully while I grabbed and rubbed my chest. I’ve brought a goddess’ flesh into reality… so serenely… and I couldn’t wait to see how lewd I’m easily capable of! As all the cushioning on the top went on two fingers snap inside… “Ah!” louder I cried when a lightning shocked through my body and numbed every part except the most enticed ones. So touchy and addictive… Down here my slim fingers ticked and harnessed my sexuality, slipping and clicking, mixed with my singsongy moans in the bathroom. “Great, awesome, honey…” Calling my old name I’d be more than amused at experiencing sex the first time, in this unknowable way. “keep entering and seeding in me, I’m so lovely… mmm, mmm, ahhh~” I didn’t need a boner to get her aroused, just her own fingers finding their way, and being both sides of sex this time burned more intensely on my head, totally blinding me. “Ah, Ah~” Ascension in a split second… fumes of heat and pulsated from where I was on the tiles, and over it (and at my fingertips too) I found puddles of “drool” coming from my second mouth - my “nectar”.


 
I only gained all her memories when I threw myself on the bed. Maybe if her mind was still around in my head, used to be hers, she’d be listening to all my lewd thoughts and be truly loving to who her body ended up with. 

The desk of my old self was empty the next day I entered my classroom. He’d finally found his goddess, and I’m finally with her forever, a perfect couple with my mind and her body.

Mental Injection

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Cats and Dogs: Seeing the New Pet

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Eliminating Competition

You should know the disappearance of the CEO of ReInspire months ago, who missed an important press conference presenting a novel therapy in everyone’s rumors. Not many know how exactly it works, but that is far less important than his whereabouts now. As you can guess, I am writing to blow the whistle, and the secret is barely believable, even when I recalled the whole affair.
To be sincere, I am employed by one of the large pharmaceutical companies- “Big Pharma” if you will- as one of the more senior members, though no longer when this comes out. This allows me to gain some access to the top management without being a member, and often some deals and decisions done under the table. The affair of ReInspire’s CEO (please name him in the coverage) is one of the darker ones.
Apologies for the long introduction. In one of the late audiences with my higher-up just before the CEO’s disappearance, he was aghast at how the new therapy would strongly undercut our sales on its conventional counterpart, and at how new start-up are changing the order of business landscapes. Now, he noted, even the sectors dominated by “Big” businesses are being slowly eroded. That was of course relevant to our company as a financial successful business, even when most of its fortunes are built on exploiting patients (and we know it without changing that). While slightly infuriated, he was mentally prepared for what he planned next.
Before discussing serious matters, he mentioned to me that he was seeking some spicing in his private life, since his girlfriends (He is supposed to be married, but has been flirting around) were all too dull by this point. This was the opposite of his public image as a professional and what I had in my mind, yet I did not question for him to continue. Now, after condemning the new start-up, he was directing some attacks onto its CEO- the one not found- and remarked “he is no good except for being an underling”. This seems innocent at first, but as he explained some depraved plan emerged. He concluded, “maybe our more novel therapy can be tested on him.”
Days later, after the CEO’s absence, I was summoned to one of the most remote laboratories to witness. What I threw behind my mind as a farce became real: behind the one-way glass, someone recognizable was bonded and tied to the chair, eyes covered and mouth gagged. Though with them obscuring a good part of his face, he was no one other than the missing one the public was wanting. Through some illegal way or another, my superior had his first step into dangerous territory. “As you see, this is not some kind of farce you believed. The plan is real, and he will certainly be what he should have been.”
Under his instruction laboratorians pinched him with a needle plugged into some liquid which I assumed to be the “novel therapy” he mentioned. I might be a bystander, but still this was morally objectionable and I had an urge to remove him from this. But I didn’t, my superior was there and I might be the next subject if I failed. As soon as the injection started, maybe from the irresistible pain, he was struggling more desperately, but then, the more he tried, his figure was more reduced. Most visible were a pair of protrusions forming on the chest and the hair extending behind the back, but not far below the shoulder, becoming blonde in color. It was not long before she fell stiff, likely from anesthetic working at the end of the process. By then, I knew he was gone.
“The main thing to do then is to train her as my new underling. I have hired some, I would say, professionals from Eastern Europe who should take care of her well.” This was too terrible to be true, I genuinely hoped, but the day just before myself writing this, there was a demented opportunity to observe the newly trained sex slave. She was obedient to every command he gave, as far as the wicked mind of the new master conceived, and performed all sexual positions to please her master.

I need to purge my mind for writing this, even though without this, the heinous deeds of my superior will never see the light. I have already submitted my resignation and planned to leave the industry as far as possible, possibly moving out of the US. For you, I beg to publicize this in the coverage and investigate into all things related, and I should provide you all that I know, even when a good part of this may be barely real- not even I am sure of it.
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Substitute Karate Teacher

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Instant Catgirl

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The Drug of Growth

 In the living room Becky’s father Tom took out a drug brought from a bioengineering company he worked in. It had no labels except for a plain one with “Age Progression Drug” printed on it. Otherwise, the bottle was no different from the average medication, which he was taking home regularly.
Becky noticed the bottle and asked Tom, “Age Pro-gre-shun Drug?” “It’s progression, my girl,” Tom replied. Becky was only 3 and too young to comprehend complex words like “progression”, and mistakes like that were understandable.
“What’s that? Is it candy?” Despite the apparent “Drug” label and its non-resemblance to any kind of sweets Becky had ever seen, it was close enough to children vitamin pill Tom often gave her as some kind of “candy”. Lies are bad, but for her to swallow the vitamin they were necessary. The pink color of the pills further reinforced that image Becky had in mind.

Tom picked up the bottle and sank into deep thought. “Each pill results in age progression of 1 year and rapid acceleration of mental age growth*. To reverse the effect try our Age Regression Drug. Effectiveness not guaranteed and side-effects vary from none to disability and death. Consider carefully before use.” Tom read the small text on the side of the bottle, and in his mind his wife’s want and his reason combated.

His wife Joan mothered Becky at the ripe age of 44, and through in vitro fertilization after one and a half decades of attempt. Child-bearing at this old age meant the loss of 15 years of precious growth in Becky, and when the idea hit her she was uncomfortable. She thought, “could we warp the fabrics of time for us to have the appropriate age?”
It was either reinvigorating Joan or skipping Becky’s childhood, but neither time warping or changing someone’s age were a thing of fiction- until Tom’s company initiated a new research in human growth and regression. Now that the research was in its human testing phase, he informed Joan of the groundbreaking discovery, in which Joan saw the only hope.
There was a small surplus of one of the drug since one of the subjects died of uncontrollable ageing and his portion was spared. Being in the right position as the head of testing process, Tom secretly embezzled the portion and placed it in a prototype bottle given to him by a friend in the marketing team.

Though aware of the project, Tom was not truly clear of the drug’s potency as it was kept secret to the testers, so he had to refer to the bottle for any effect. And he counted, 1, 2, 3, a total of 14 pills, enough to age Becky from 3 to 17. That would close the gap just right if Joan ever used that, he reminded himself.
The idea would be his wife’s pleasure, but to himself, it was his worst decision: first he went against his conscience to loot from his company which had deep trust in him, and then he was about to erase his dear girl’s childhood…
Joan came in and took the bottle away. I could had stopped it at the last moment, Tom regretted.

Becky stood in the bathroom naked, only facing a ready Joan. “Come on, you will have those candies. Now count them and eat them one by one.” Without knowledge Becky obliged. By the time she finished all that was in the bottle, the one standing in front of Joan was no longer an infant, but a girl at her high school age. Long hair of a nightly blue color had grown, tied by her mother into an outdated hairstyle.
Joan went out to pick the teenage clothes she had prepared beforehand, but she couldn’t find her husband. He had left.

Tom left in the grief of his baby girl’s loss to age- something he made real firsthand by bringing the drug to a willing Joan. With beer he was revelling in the temporary relief of drunkenness and in forgetting that his girl was no longer there. He decided to stay away from home for some time, or even leaving Joan with a divorce, to start a new life. But for tonight he needed a bed and breakfast.

The first thing to do for the now grown up Becky was to enrol in the local high school, of course, even though her mind was far less than ready. School were almost incomprehensible at first, but by the end of the day she got the idea of most of the subjects. On top of that, new friends were made, something she was eager to do as a newcomer to both the environment and age, though everyone treated her as mentally stunned as it was wont.
At the end of the day, with the new sketch book and crayon, Becky drew the scene of her first day in school, something she was glad of meeting so much new friends and having so much fun!



Tom sneaked into the backyard of his house not to be discovered, and he witnessed now adolescent Becky drawing as if she was still stuck at 3. Tom remembered the small note after the asterisk:

*Mental growth rates vary across users and aspects of mentality. Additional information including (but not limited to) personality, memories and knowledge.

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New Life as a Ninja

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