All art used here are under fair use.
Showing posts with label Hypnosis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hypnosis. Show all posts
Friday, May 31, 2019
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Thursday, August 23, 2018
The Princess of Cuteness
Alex closed the door of his dorm behind him, expected to see one of his many friends or enemies who knocked on his door without calling him first, pulling him out of a novel binge. Instead seeing a face he might recognize, her hair was a head below his eye level. The one standing in front of him was mildly shocking- his first impression of her was an expressly peach-and-pink-checkered bow, frilled and crossed with mint yarns and white blobby lines, and topped with a crown of love or something.
“Wa~ha! Princess’s going to make chu fluffy!” Just the right phrase for Alex to be attentive to her face. Under posh, minty hair were gigantic, lens-magnified cherry eyes, the face no doubt blushing an unnatural red. Beside the rosy cheeks were her hair rolled into a pair of wheels. This sickly make-up was enough shock for him to forget what he had been concentrating open before she wandered here.
“Heh, is this what one of my nerdy friends call ‘alienation of blablablah’? Literally becoming an alien like this? Just arriving from a childish pink planet, didn’t you…” Lame stuff needs an equally quirky and sharp response, Alex had this in mind just to fetch her away, but the girl was relentless. “Princess just wan-chu to be all nice!” Was that enough nonsense ruining his nice day of reading and binge-watching shows? Who was she exactly, with her heart bracelet and another identical bow on her heart? It won’t matter if she didn’t go away, and especially that, before he could again mind his own business.
The girl grabbed his arm by her white-gloved hand. “Princess can proclaim you to be cute! You will like obeying a proclamation!” Her grip was much stronger than she seemed to be. Soon Alex’s right arm was squeezed into place, as narrow as the “Princess’s”. Pen-like fingers were joined to a palm clothed with white linen and given a blue bow buttoned with gold. The sleeve attached to it, even with the rest of his sharply colored T-shirt intact, was trimmed with blue ribbons on the end and of a greener shade than the Princess’s corset.
Not that Alex noticed the change when it wasn’t amputated, his mind had him to get away soon-ish and back into the room. “Proclamation? What kind of authority do you have, that’s so princely? This is a dorm, not some faraway kingdom.” 2 strips of creamy hair fell onto his chest, so far out of his sight. “Can you show Princess is not a princess?” Alex tried to rebuke at her, but the blue choker cut through his throat, hollowing his Adam’s apple and almost breaking his breath. If he couldn’t say anything, it’s better for him to think of a better response. She is not a princess because, hey, he’s just seen more of those insensible tweets by the President. That certainly wasn’t a good point, but proofs are needed against her.
Proof that she wasn’t a princess? Quietly, as a sea-wave top wrap around his fattening and full chest, a ribbon crossed the opening in the front, and the self-proclaimed Princess started lower her voice into a faint chant. “Can you show Princess is not a princess? Can you show Princess is not a princess? Can you?” She should not have been a princess if… those trancing words… if the princess… so mesmerizing… the princess… the Princess…
Only this helped Alex in his realization: the eyes glowing an unnatural hazel and the cheek squishing against itself, soon every part of his face was displaced, the nose and facial hair submerging under the skin. What remained of his T-shirt, a sky-blue one, stretched over his dissolving abs muscle to glimmering blue and purple layers over the now fertile hips. Blue thighhighs, in iridescent azure high heels, pulled over the sleek pair of pure feminine legs.
The Princess… there is no proof. The Princess of Cuteness needs nothing other than Cuteness, just as being the Queen of Cuteness herself…
Blue fabric wrapped around the Queen of Cuteness’s narrow curvature, ending in a bow with a golden crest of queenhood. On a side of the Queen of Cuteness’s hair, a little crown, seated on another bow, marked the coronation. If Cuteness is God, their divine right to rule is to rule by Cuteness! Already the hallways were being transformed by their regal aura, more and more densely and richly decorated with fluff and frill, all rosy and bejeweled, full of beauty and glamour. The Queen and Princess of Cuteness are one with Cuteness, they are Cuteness; Cuteness are they, they will fill the world with Cuteness with a decree, where all will be nice, and they will reign forever! More and more of the world, once not Cute and ugly, will become their subjects and be one with Cuteness! Nothing other than Cuteness will remain, nothing other than Cuteness will be thought by all the subjects!
How praiseworthy Cuteness is! Long live the Queen and Princess of Cuteness!
All art used here are under fair use.
“Wa~ha! Princess’s going to make chu fluffy!” Just the right phrase for Alex to be attentive to her face. Under posh, minty hair were gigantic, lens-magnified cherry eyes, the face no doubt blushing an unnatural red. Beside the rosy cheeks were her hair rolled into a pair of wheels. This sickly make-up was enough shock for him to forget what he had been concentrating open before she wandered here.
“Heh, is this what one of my nerdy friends call ‘alienation of blablablah’? Literally becoming an alien like this? Just arriving from a childish pink planet, didn’t you…” Lame stuff needs an equally quirky and sharp response, Alex had this in mind just to fetch her away, but the girl was relentless. “Princess just wan-chu to be all nice!” Was that enough nonsense ruining his nice day of reading and binge-watching shows? Who was she exactly, with her heart bracelet and another identical bow on her heart? It won’t matter if she didn’t go away, and especially that, before he could again mind his own business.
The girl grabbed his arm by her white-gloved hand. “Princess can proclaim you to be cute! You will like obeying a proclamation!” Her grip was much stronger than she seemed to be. Soon Alex’s right arm was squeezed into place, as narrow as the “Princess’s”. Pen-like fingers were joined to a palm clothed with white linen and given a blue bow buttoned with gold. The sleeve attached to it, even with the rest of his sharply colored T-shirt intact, was trimmed with blue ribbons on the end and of a greener shade than the Princess’s corset.
Not that Alex noticed the change when it wasn’t amputated, his mind had him to get away soon-ish and back into the room. “Proclamation? What kind of authority do you have, that’s so princely? This is a dorm, not some faraway kingdom.” 2 strips of creamy hair fell onto his chest, so far out of his sight. “Can you show Princess is not a princess?” Alex tried to rebuke at her, but the blue choker cut through his throat, hollowing his Adam’s apple and almost breaking his breath. If he couldn’t say anything, it’s better for him to think of a better response. She is not a princess because, hey, he’s just seen more of those insensible tweets by the President. That certainly wasn’t a good point, but proofs are needed against her.
Proof that she wasn’t a princess? Quietly, as a sea-wave top wrap around his fattening and full chest, a ribbon crossed the opening in the front, and the self-proclaimed Princess started lower her voice into a faint chant. “Can you show Princess is not a princess? Can you show Princess is not a princess? Can you?” She should not have been a princess if… those trancing words… if the princess… so mesmerizing… the princess… the Princess…
Only this helped Alex in his realization: the eyes glowing an unnatural hazel and the cheek squishing against itself, soon every part of his face was displaced, the nose and facial hair submerging under the skin. What remained of his T-shirt, a sky-blue one, stretched over his dissolving abs muscle to glimmering blue and purple layers over the now fertile hips. Blue thighhighs, in iridescent azure high heels, pulled over the sleek pair of pure feminine legs.
The Princess… there is no proof. The Princess of Cuteness needs nothing other than Cuteness, just as being the Queen of Cuteness herself…
Blue fabric wrapped around the Queen of Cuteness’s narrow curvature, ending in a bow with a golden crest of queenhood. On a side of the Queen of Cuteness’s hair, a little crown, seated on another bow, marked the coronation. If Cuteness is God, their divine right to rule is to rule by Cuteness! Already the hallways were being transformed by their regal aura, more and more densely and richly decorated with fluff and frill, all rosy and bejeweled, full of beauty and glamour. The Queen and Princess of Cuteness are one with Cuteness, they are Cuteness; Cuteness are they, they will fill the world with Cuteness with a decree, where all will be nice, and they will reign forever! More and more of the world, once not Cute and ugly, will become their subjects and be one with Cuteness! Nothing other than Cuteness will remain, nothing other than Cuteness will be thought by all the subjects!
How praiseworthy Cuteness is! Long live the Queen and Princess of Cuteness!
All art used here are under fair use.
Thursday, August 16, 2018
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Saturday, October 21, 2017
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.
All art used here are under fair use.
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.
All art used here are under fair use.
Sunday, August 6, 2017
A Girl Found One Morning
Darkness. It pervades all that light cannot reach, and when the most
radiant light of all sets into the oblique side of the land, night
brings darkness. But as humans invented lighting, darkness may not reign
over the will of those toiling under a candle or lamp.
She sat on the top of a tree, patiently watching a suburb descending into slumber and lighting going out. She had always preferred darkness over light. Darkness is solemn and mystical, and if you see into it, it provides great depth where light cannot imitate. Darkness is a beauty unto itself, but not remotely light. Light may be radiant, but imperious and violent. She could not stay too long under light or it would erode her body, thinning her life until she was too weak.
She did not see why men would prefer having lights on in the night when it was rightful and bodily needed to rest, unlike her being more vibrant, though waning recently. In front of this house she faced, a white car pulled in and a tired man exited from the garage. He was optimal and she knew what he was good for.
“Wham!” I braked when my car hit something. I was freaking sure there was nothing in my view, not a pile of trash, not cats or dogs or birds or anything, just paved road and nothing else. Then how could something appeared or ran in without me seeing?
No matter what, I needed to go out to see what’s got hit… Damn, it’s a girl! Someone probably going to high or middle, but me hitting her into fainting and lying here. I wonder how much I would need to pay her family for medical expenses. At least my car was barely scratched so I could save a bit on repair.
For the girl in question, She was just brunette and long-haired, nothing notable about her looks except being a bit pale. The dress was crimson and lined, she wore a white shirt under that, nothing quite unusual. Good thing she didn’t seemed injured or bleeding, or I might get into a lawsuit with her parents. Her frailness got me into trouble, but there was no time for me to moan. Some people were already filming the whole thing on phone, so to clear my name I called the cops to tell them of the found.
After dropping her in the nearest substation I hurried back to my car and returned on my route to work. The cops would know what to do with her, sending her to the nearest hospital and finding her parents, I comforted myself. I was almost late when I arrived at the bicycle company, but being one of the partners I could give myself some leeway in well, a lot of things. Not that I wanted to be lazy, but accidents always happen.
I almost forgot her at the end of my day, being overwhelmed by business and design, until I arrived at my car for the trip back home. Maybe I could call the substation for some of my questions about her.
The sheriff told me that she was fine in the hospital, but there’s a problem: they had no idea where she’s from, and even in that state it was almost useless to talk with her, mostly in coma or too weak to talk. So, there was almost nothing everyone could know about her at this point. If I had no idea and I couldn’t help her in any way, why not just forgot about her and focus more on my own life?
Some of the nights I dropped my work to grab a few beer with a few of my pals, that’s a good way to keep up with all the stress. Beside us was some other guy with pints of beer waiting for someone else. I remembered him used to drink with a few others, but today no one showed up, only him, and he was impatiently calling someone. “What’s up with him?” I asked Sean who knew a lot of others drinking here. “His drinking pals disappeared one by one, and he is trying to investigate with the only one of them left. Maybe he is out be luck.” Soon he was frustrated and left the bar. “Let’s hope he can have some no-so-bad news,” I wished.
“By the way, speaking of meeting people, weeks ago at the morning I hit someone.” To this Sean affectionately said, “Who did you hit? How this went?” “She was a middle or high school girl that’s quite forgettable. I almost forget her face except she’s brunette.” “A school girl, it’s a big deal. How did you deal with her?” “Sent her to the cops. Either she’s still in hospital or she’s back to her dorm or home or something.”
Sean wasn’t without idea, so he suggested me to find her and know her state. That way, I could also reconcile with her family if she had one. This sounded good on paper, but hard to do when her identity was still a question for me. I tried to call the cops, but they still had no hints of her identity. Actually, they claimed, she refused to talk with any of the cops after she’d recovered.
Worse, she left when someone claiming to be her boyfriend took her out. In those cases the hospital won’t trust the guy, but no one understood the decision. It’s doubtful if he’s even her boyfriend or not, since the next day someone bearing a likeness of him was found dead in the woods by hikers. No indication of causes of death, just a great mystery. Whoever the murderer was, it was not her, the weak defenseless girl.
Luck came to me on another morning, when I saw her walking to school. At first I didn’t recognize her, her face being that forgettable, and not until she called to me. “You… You… are you… the one… who hit me?” While she could barely speak, I remembered. She was the exact same girl, from the hair to the pale skin, to the ruby dress. I wasn’t sure if I was hallucinating from hour of night work or something, but she was definitely here. Strangely for the suburb, she wasn’t traveling on on a car or living in a dorm, so there was a chance of she running in some problem sooner or later, given she was this frail and pale.
“Yes, it was me, but it’s an accident. Are you better now?” She nodded even though she was barely healthier than in the accident. “Don’t seem to be so.” I knew that’s not a compliment, but seeing her being like this, I could help myself. “Do you want to have a ride?” She nodded again, this time a bit harder.
En route I tried to interact with her but she was still quite unresponsive. If she still treated me as a stranger, she won’t be on my car. So she had to be tired in the morning. “You OK?” “Fine,” she only said. So far, of anything I asked, I knew she was called Rosa, and she, being a recent exchange student, lived with a friend she knew online. “Why not take your host’s car and instead walk on feet?” No answer. “Where do you come from?” She said “Europe,” without giving any country. Many other stuff I asked, and no reply. Not sure if she didn’t what to reply or she’s still too tired.
“Here you are, the high school you’re going.” “Thank you,” she left the car and moved towards the compound, almost fainting in the short walk. “Poor girl,” I thought.
Maybe Rosa took my advice and went to the school with her friend, but after that I hadn’t seen her for some time. I didn’t expect to know a lot of her by these 2 encounters, but whenever I remembered her, she was shrouded in secrecy. Her look was plain, but the face seemed distant. Being silent also helped the mystery without letting me know more of her.
If she hadn’t came one night, I would forget her. When I opened the door, I could see her standing there, in the same crimson dress as before. Her appearance was surprising to me- I just hit her once and drove her the other time, and no more. “Sorry for being awkward, but I need to thank you. All those time here I’ve been walking to school. Usually I’m very tired at the morning, so I often faint in the middle of the way. At least I know that now,” she was much more fluent now, far from when I first met her. “Thank you for coming, but it’s me who need to visit you and say sorry.”
I wanted to visit her friend to know more about her, but in the end she stayed at my home. When I asked her about her friend, she said, “Do you think she want to know you?” To dodge me. She was much attentive then at first, at least answering some of my questions, but remained much more of her to herself than anyone would to a new friend. Well, I still didn’t know about her family or home. Stranger still, she suddenly had an interest in me, or maybe a crush, while I was still keeping her at arm’s length, or else I couldn’t her abrupt eagerness from only meeting me twice. Despite this she was amicable and most importantly, willing to forgive me for that accident.
Since that day, I was more and more worn out. At first it was like a small flu that didn’t stop me from working, just a bit less efficient than usual, then dizziness and tiredness set in to hamper my productivity. I fainted a few times and took a few leaves for those. It intensified until I had to resign from work, since I might die if I hadn’t stopped. My life was drained away bit by bit every night, waking up every morning worse off, and I was not sure if I got any sickness or it was related with Rosa. But every night I dreamed of her- not that I was attracted to her, but she was coming here in the dreams from outside the window, biting me and sucking my blood from the neck. It went to the point when my senses took the dream to be real- they were too blurred at that point to be any clearer, and that meant I was very ill.
Soon I was going to hospital with the help of Sean to find a cure for the sickness. But in the night before I was going to be hospitalized, I was wide awake and saw her leaping in for one last time. This time, she approached me without making a pain in my neck, but I felt I was lifted up from the bed and out from the window. She was certainly too weak to lift me, but now she had superhuman strength from nowhere. I was no sharp-minded, but I was sure I was dying when my hallucinations went to this length.
In this dream I was penetrating forests, shifting along freeways, leaping through states or I would had myself believed, and I ended up in a big hall- I couldn’t see clearly. When I was wider awake, I found myself sitting on a bench and Rosa besides me.
“You… You… what do you want to do to me?” Without any strength I tried to scream, but then there was no answer. Or the answer was her face, still nondescript, but now with bright eyes shining as the eclipsed moon, and to my disbelief, a pair of pointy ears. Her face… scarring me made my sickness go away, but something worse was upon me. Or my neck.
It was the same pinch in the neck again, then my vitality was drawn from all my parts… through vessels and veins… flowing out from my body into her… What was different now was that… when she had drawn… only bit by bit… everything… was sucked… away… now… cold…
Now… blood… entered… my vein… but it… was not mine… Whose could it be?
It was hers, of course… as more and more of her life was given to me, my body felt intense pain, my cells reacting as they should from the blood invasion. But mine human cells was inferior to her vicious blood, so more and more of my cells was now destroyed… no, transformed… no, enhanced into better cells in her likeness.
It started from the veins and vessels, then as the capillaries go, more and more parts of my body was rewritten, maybe from my DNA. Then real physical changes started appearing. My body hairs retracted into my body as my skin became paler and more virgin-like, as if bathed in pure blood. My frame loosened into something matching Rosa’s with shorter and finer limbs, but now more reinforced than I had been. Smaller thighs and slimmer waist was lighter and more suiting for what I would become, and a decent bust will certainly help luring. With a bit of moaning in my new high voice, Night-like hair shot out from the old blonde hair and reaching as long as hers.
The new form was complete with the flower on my head and my new lingerie like outfit. Now, Rosa looked at me again with her eyes, now knowing our purpose here with the telepathy. I was to pretend to be her friend receiving her here, and we would then prey for more in the local high. Those were what we do as vampire girls.
We left the hall and transported ourselves back to “my” new home, now refurnished, and planned forward to our next prey… The original guy had a friend called Sean, and that would be a good staring point for us.
Sean opened his sick friend’s door and entered the house to retrieve him, only to find a setting vastly more girly than his friend’s. “Hello? Anyone here? Strange, he had no girl, just himself living here. It was the right door number. Where’s him? I got to call Sam and search for our missing ones.” Sam’s number led to some girl also called Sam, not his friend, and that Sam was in that runaway hit idol group Sean had seen on the web. “No, fuck, fuck!” He cursed as 2 girls appeared behind him, one brunette and one deep blue-haired.
She sat on the top of a tree, patiently watching a suburb descending into slumber and lighting going out. She had always preferred darkness over light. Darkness is solemn and mystical, and if you see into it, it provides great depth where light cannot imitate. Darkness is a beauty unto itself, but not remotely light. Light may be radiant, but imperious and violent. She could not stay too long under light or it would erode her body, thinning her life until she was too weak.
She did not see why men would prefer having lights on in the night when it was rightful and bodily needed to rest, unlike her being more vibrant, though waning recently. In front of this house she faced, a white car pulled in and a tired man exited from the garage. He was optimal and she knew what he was good for.
“Wham!” I braked when my car hit something. I was freaking sure there was nothing in my view, not a pile of trash, not cats or dogs or birds or anything, just paved road and nothing else. Then how could something appeared or ran in without me seeing?
No matter what, I needed to go out to see what’s got hit… Damn, it’s a girl! Someone probably going to high or middle, but me hitting her into fainting and lying here. I wonder how much I would need to pay her family for medical expenses. At least my car was barely scratched so I could save a bit on repair.
For the girl in question, She was just brunette and long-haired, nothing notable about her looks except being a bit pale. The dress was crimson and lined, she wore a white shirt under that, nothing quite unusual. Good thing she didn’t seemed injured or bleeding, or I might get into a lawsuit with her parents. Her frailness got me into trouble, but there was no time for me to moan. Some people were already filming the whole thing on phone, so to clear my name I called the cops to tell them of the found.
After dropping her in the nearest substation I hurried back to my car and returned on my route to work. The cops would know what to do with her, sending her to the nearest hospital and finding her parents, I comforted myself. I was almost late when I arrived at the bicycle company, but being one of the partners I could give myself some leeway in well, a lot of things. Not that I wanted to be lazy, but accidents always happen.
I almost forgot her at the end of my day, being overwhelmed by business and design, until I arrived at my car for the trip back home. Maybe I could call the substation for some of my questions about her.
The sheriff told me that she was fine in the hospital, but there’s a problem: they had no idea where she’s from, and even in that state it was almost useless to talk with her, mostly in coma or too weak to talk. So, there was almost nothing everyone could know about her at this point. If I had no idea and I couldn’t help her in any way, why not just forgot about her and focus more on my own life?
Some of the nights I dropped my work to grab a few beer with a few of my pals, that’s a good way to keep up with all the stress. Beside us was some other guy with pints of beer waiting for someone else. I remembered him used to drink with a few others, but today no one showed up, only him, and he was impatiently calling someone. “What’s up with him?” I asked Sean who knew a lot of others drinking here. “His drinking pals disappeared one by one, and he is trying to investigate with the only one of them left. Maybe he is out be luck.” Soon he was frustrated and left the bar. “Let’s hope he can have some no-so-bad news,” I wished.
“By the way, speaking of meeting people, weeks ago at the morning I hit someone.” To this Sean affectionately said, “Who did you hit? How this went?” “She was a middle or high school girl that’s quite forgettable. I almost forget her face except she’s brunette.” “A school girl, it’s a big deal. How did you deal with her?” “Sent her to the cops. Either she’s still in hospital or she’s back to her dorm or home or something.”
Sean wasn’t without idea, so he suggested me to find her and know her state. That way, I could also reconcile with her family if she had one. This sounded good on paper, but hard to do when her identity was still a question for me. I tried to call the cops, but they still had no hints of her identity. Actually, they claimed, she refused to talk with any of the cops after she’d recovered.
Worse, she left when someone claiming to be her boyfriend took her out. In those cases the hospital won’t trust the guy, but no one understood the decision. It’s doubtful if he’s even her boyfriend or not, since the next day someone bearing a likeness of him was found dead in the woods by hikers. No indication of causes of death, just a great mystery. Whoever the murderer was, it was not her, the weak defenseless girl.
Luck came to me on another morning, when I saw her walking to school. At first I didn’t recognize her, her face being that forgettable, and not until she called to me. “You… You… are you… the one… who hit me?” While she could barely speak, I remembered. She was the exact same girl, from the hair to the pale skin, to the ruby dress. I wasn’t sure if I was hallucinating from hour of night work or something, but she was definitely here. Strangely for the suburb, she wasn’t traveling on on a car or living in a dorm, so there was a chance of she running in some problem sooner or later, given she was this frail and pale.
“Yes, it was me, but it’s an accident. Are you better now?” She nodded even though she was barely healthier than in the accident. “Don’t seem to be so.” I knew that’s not a compliment, but seeing her being like this, I could help myself. “Do you want to have a ride?” She nodded again, this time a bit harder.
En route I tried to interact with her but she was still quite unresponsive. If she still treated me as a stranger, she won’t be on my car. So she had to be tired in the morning. “You OK?” “Fine,” she only said. So far, of anything I asked, I knew she was called Rosa, and she, being a recent exchange student, lived with a friend she knew online. “Why not take your host’s car and instead walk on feet?” No answer. “Where do you come from?” She said “Europe,” without giving any country. Many other stuff I asked, and no reply. Not sure if she didn’t what to reply or she’s still too tired.
“Here you are, the high school you’re going.” “Thank you,” she left the car and moved towards the compound, almost fainting in the short walk. “Poor girl,” I thought.
Maybe Rosa took my advice and went to the school with her friend, but after that I hadn’t seen her for some time. I didn’t expect to know a lot of her by these 2 encounters, but whenever I remembered her, she was shrouded in secrecy. Her look was plain, but the face seemed distant. Being silent also helped the mystery without letting me know more of her.
If she hadn’t came one night, I would forget her. When I opened the door, I could see her standing there, in the same crimson dress as before. Her appearance was surprising to me- I just hit her once and drove her the other time, and no more. “Sorry for being awkward, but I need to thank you. All those time here I’ve been walking to school. Usually I’m very tired at the morning, so I often faint in the middle of the way. At least I know that now,” she was much more fluent now, far from when I first met her. “Thank you for coming, but it’s me who need to visit you and say sorry.”
I wanted to visit her friend to know more about her, but in the end she stayed at my home. When I asked her about her friend, she said, “Do you think she want to know you?” To dodge me. She was much attentive then at first, at least answering some of my questions, but remained much more of her to herself than anyone would to a new friend. Well, I still didn’t know about her family or home. Stranger still, she suddenly had an interest in me, or maybe a crush, while I was still keeping her at arm’s length, or else I couldn’t her abrupt eagerness from only meeting me twice. Despite this she was amicable and most importantly, willing to forgive me for that accident.
Since that day, I was more and more worn out. At first it was like a small flu that didn’t stop me from working, just a bit less efficient than usual, then dizziness and tiredness set in to hamper my productivity. I fainted a few times and took a few leaves for those. It intensified until I had to resign from work, since I might die if I hadn’t stopped. My life was drained away bit by bit every night, waking up every morning worse off, and I was not sure if I got any sickness or it was related with Rosa. But every night I dreamed of her- not that I was attracted to her, but she was coming here in the dreams from outside the window, biting me and sucking my blood from the neck. It went to the point when my senses took the dream to be real- they were too blurred at that point to be any clearer, and that meant I was very ill.
Soon I was going to hospital with the help of Sean to find a cure for the sickness. But in the night before I was going to be hospitalized, I was wide awake and saw her leaping in for one last time. This time, she approached me without making a pain in my neck, but I felt I was lifted up from the bed and out from the window. She was certainly too weak to lift me, but now she had superhuman strength from nowhere. I was no sharp-minded, but I was sure I was dying when my hallucinations went to this length.
In this dream I was penetrating forests, shifting along freeways, leaping through states or I would had myself believed, and I ended up in a big hall- I couldn’t see clearly. When I was wider awake, I found myself sitting on a bench and Rosa besides me.
“You… You… what do you want to do to me?” Without any strength I tried to scream, but then there was no answer. Or the answer was her face, still nondescript, but now with bright eyes shining as the eclipsed moon, and to my disbelief, a pair of pointy ears. Her face… scarring me made my sickness go away, but something worse was upon me. Or my neck.
It was the same pinch in the neck again, then my vitality was drawn from all my parts… through vessels and veins… flowing out from my body into her… What was different now was that… when she had drawn… only bit by bit… everything… was sucked… away… now… cold…
Now… blood… entered… my vein… but it… was not mine… Whose could it be?
It was hers, of course… as more and more of her life was given to me, my body felt intense pain, my cells reacting as they should from the blood invasion. But mine human cells was inferior to her vicious blood, so more and more of my cells was now destroyed… no, transformed… no, enhanced into better cells in her likeness.
It started from the veins and vessels, then as the capillaries go, more and more parts of my body was rewritten, maybe from my DNA. Then real physical changes started appearing. My body hairs retracted into my body as my skin became paler and more virgin-like, as if bathed in pure blood. My frame loosened into something matching Rosa’s with shorter and finer limbs, but now more reinforced than I had been. Smaller thighs and slimmer waist was lighter and more suiting for what I would become, and a decent bust will certainly help luring. With a bit of moaning in my new high voice, Night-like hair shot out from the old blonde hair and reaching as long as hers.
The new form was complete with the flower on my head and my new lingerie like outfit. Now, Rosa looked at me again with her eyes, now knowing our purpose here with the telepathy. I was to pretend to be her friend receiving her here, and we would then prey for more in the local high. Those were what we do as vampire girls.
We left the hall and transported ourselves back to “my” new home, now refurnished, and planned forward to our next prey… The original guy had a friend called Sean, and that would be a good staring point for us.
Sean opened his sick friend’s door and entered the house to retrieve him, only to find a setting vastly more girly than his friend’s. “Hello? Anyone here? Strange, he had no girl, just himself living here. It was the right door number. Where’s him? I got to call Sam and search for our missing ones.” Sam’s number led to some girl also called Sam, not his friend, and that Sam was in that runaway hit idol group Sean had seen on the web. “No, fuck, fuck!” He cursed as 2 girls appeared behind him, one brunette and one deep blue-haired.
Monday, July 10, 2017
Thursday, June 15, 2017
Ice Cream of Change
Ice cream was my favorite. Only two kind of people love ice cream: little girls being handed one by parents or whosoever, and fat guys sitting in front of the TV watching reruns. To be honest, I’m the latter. While film goers prefer popcorn and some prefer bags of air (with some potato chips), I gulped loads of ice cream down my throat. In my fridge I always had 2 or 3 flavor, often 4 or 5. Every time I’m in Walmart or anywhere I would buy some ice cream.
I didn’t go out too often since I prefer staying at home outside of work, but sometimes I went to the nearby Six Flags with my 3rd grade boy. Once while walking pass the line of concession stands, my son pointed to a new ice cream stand, located where a bush had been last time we visited. It was not weird for stands to be added or removed, but my son was pulling me to the stand as if there was some attraction compelling him.
“You want ice creams? It takes you a lot of money here, you can have much more at home, and a lot of flavors!” But my son won’t stop pulling me. The attraction might exist, since we saw many other parents buying ice cream scoops for their children, while the candy shop opposite had lost most of their customers. Something might be weird, but still, I was being begged eagerly.
My son instinctively pointed to cookies n’ cream, his favorite and the only flavor he would eat. Defeated, I ordered what he want for him, and a chocolate flavored one for myself.
For some reason, the chocolate ice cream was more deeply flavored than what it seemed. The chocolate was not the one I usually had at home, but one that was crafted by one of the master chocolatiers, and seeped deep into my taste bud. It certainly was worth the popularity it had, and after that visit we would fetch some ice cream there.
Due to my frequent return I came to know the one selling ice creams. A woman in her late 30s, she usually tied her cream-colored hair into a short tail, and wore her own apron on top of the shirt. In fact, she rented an apartment the floor below, something I didn’t realize until meeting her. This meant that we meet quite often not in Six Flags, but much nearer to home.
From her I knew that her ice cream was homemade- I wondered how she could managed the time, but then, every night, while I was comfortably seated, she was working on new flavors restlessly, and this answered the chocolate ice cream’s taste, since she told me she ordered Belgian chocolate in bulk. We became good neighbors and exchanged often.
In return, I shared moments of my daily life, how I went to work and then sat in front of the TV for the rest of the day and night. “That’s not good enough,” she went on to encourage me to change, like when she quit her job to pursue her dream and set up the ice cream stand she had.
She wanted change for me, but not myself. I just wanted more TV time and scoops of ice cream, and she was not listened to at best, if not denied up front. That way, I continued my routine life, and licked from my spoon every night at 2, while my son was sleeping and the TV was on playing a DVD.
One day, she called me to her place, just to discuss her future since she claimed to be moving away to open a new shop on the West Coast. Seated, she ported a cone of mint chocolate ice cream, and which was said to contain some “special ingredients”. I didn’t know what special ingredients it had, but that “This is for me?” “Yes, please enjoy it and treat it as some kind of parting gift.”
Upon tasting the ice cream with the spoon the woman gave him, the world around the fat guy started spinning. Strangely a mint-colored background, embroidered with chocolate stripes, formed. He thought it was some kind of psychedelic, since he was dazed by the flashy surroundings and the sickness it caused spread to his whole body, and even stranger, he could actually notice the surrounding getting larger, and himself shortening to a mere 4’4”.
Meanwhile, his fat belly disappeared, the fat being moved under the skin to all parts of his body, some to his chest and hips which were a bit thickened. While the shoulders collapsed, the proportions become more of a little girl than a fat guy, and so was the limbs and hands, being more refined and lengthy. Most of the body hair fell off, except those on the head, turning dark beige and growing rapidly, eventually tied into a twintail by an unseen force. The skin took on a lighter color, as smooth as a child. While the head became rounder, the eyes was larger and had amber color instead of the old blue, and the nose and mouth much smaller than before. The T-shift and shorts gave way for a cute chocolate and mint-colored dress, decorated with lushy green bows; new leather shoes and long mint socks replaced the worn sneakers. Finally, at the most intimate part, what had made the transformed one a man was no more, replaced by something appropriate for a little girl.
“Mama makes the best ice cream,” I said. Mama told me something I didn’t understand, “my girl, you are going to lead a new life from now on.”
All art used here are under fair use.
I didn’t go out too often since I prefer staying at home outside of work, but sometimes I went to the nearby Six Flags with my 3rd grade boy. Once while walking pass the line of concession stands, my son pointed to a new ice cream stand, located where a bush had been last time we visited. It was not weird for stands to be added or removed, but my son was pulling me to the stand as if there was some attraction compelling him.
“You want ice creams? It takes you a lot of money here, you can have much more at home, and a lot of flavors!” But my son won’t stop pulling me. The attraction might exist, since we saw many other parents buying ice cream scoops for their children, while the candy shop opposite had lost most of their customers. Something might be weird, but still, I was being begged eagerly.
My son instinctively pointed to cookies n’ cream, his favorite and the only flavor he would eat. Defeated, I ordered what he want for him, and a chocolate flavored one for myself.
For some reason, the chocolate ice cream was more deeply flavored than what it seemed. The chocolate was not the one I usually had at home, but one that was crafted by one of the master chocolatiers, and seeped deep into my taste bud. It certainly was worth the popularity it had, and after that visit we would fetch some ice cream there.
Due to my frequent return I came to know the one selling ice creams. A woman in her late 30s, she usually tied her cream-colored hair into a short tail, and wore her own apron on top of the shirt. In fact, she rented an apartment the floor below, something I didn’t realize until meeting her. This meant that we meet quite often not in Six Flags, but much nearer to home.
From her I knew that her ice cream was homemade- I wondered how she could managed the time, but then, every night, while I was comfortably seated, she was working on new flavors restlessly, and this answered the chocolate ice cream’s taste, since she told me she ordered Belgian chocolate in bulk. We became good neighbors and exchanged often.
In return, I shared moments of my daily life, how I went to work and then sat in front of the TV for the rest of the day and night. “That’s not good enough,” she went on to encourage me to change, like when she quit her job to pursue her dream and set up the ice cream stand she had.
She wanted change for me, but not myself. I just wanted more TV time and scoops of ice cream, and she was not listened to at best, if not denied up front. That way, I continued my routine life, and licked from my spoon every night at 2, while my son was sleeping and the TV was on playing a DVD.
One day, she called me to her place, just to discuss her future since she claimed to be moving away to open a new shop on the West Coast. Seated, she ported a cone of mint chocolate ice cream, and which was said to contain some “special ingredients”. I didn’t know what special ingredients it had, but that “This is for me?” “Yes, please enjoy it and treat it as some kind of parting gift.”
Upon tasting the ice cream with the spoon the woman gave him, the world around the fat guy started spinning. Strangely a mint-colored background, embroidered with chocolate stripes, formed. He thought it was some kind of psychedelic, since he was dazed by the flashy surroundings and the sickness it caused spread to his whole body, and even stranger, he could actually notice the surrounding getting larger, and himself shortening to a mere 4’4”.
Meanwhile, his fat belly disappeared, the fat being moved under the skin to all parts of his body, some to his chest and hips which were a bit thickened. While the shoulders collapsed, the proportions become more of a little girl than a fat guy, and so was the limbs and hands, being more refined and lengthy. Most of the body hair fell off, except those on the head, turning dark beige and growing rapidly, eventually tied into a twintail by an unseen force. The skin took on a lighter color, as smooth as a child. While the head became rounder, the eyes was larger and had amber color instead of the old blue, and the nose and mouth much smaller than before. The T-shift and shorts gave way for a cute chocolate and mint-colored dress, decorated with lushy green bows; new leather shoes and long mint socks replaced the worn sneakers. Finally, at the most intimate part, what had made the transformed one a man was no more, replaced by something appropriate for a little girl.
“Mama makes the best ice cream,” I said. Mama told me something I didn’t understand, “my girl, you are going to lead a new life from now on.”
All art used here are under fair use.
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