All art used here are under fair use.
Saturday, September 22, 2018
Friday, September 21, 2018
Wednesday, September 12, 2018
Monday, September 10, 2018
Thursday, August 30, 2018
Sunday, August 26, 2018
Friday, August 24, 2018
The King of the Club
The TG is at the end.
All art used here are under fair use.
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.
Sunday, August 19, 2018
Thursday, August 16, 2018
Tuesday, August 14, 2018
Monday, August 13, 2018
Tuesday, August 7, 2018
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
Thursday, July 19, 2018
Tuesday, July 17, 2018
Saturday, July 14, 2018
Transported to Fantasy #1
All art used here are under fair use.
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Monday, July 9, 2018
Sunday, July 8, 2018
Cats and Dogs: Ah Doggie
All art used here are under fair use.
Sunday, July 1, 2018
Saturday, June 30, 2018
Trouble for Your New Job
Stop right there- you're messing with my profile picture girl!
All art used here are under fair use.
Friday, June 29, 2018
Good Shape... for Benefits!
All art used here are under fair use.
Saturday, June 23, 2018
The Blue Dragon Diva
This is one currently inactive blogger's OC and self-insert as a mermaid.
All art used here are under fair use.
Corruption of a Hero
All art used here are under fair use.
Saturday, June 16, 2018
The First Autocloset Malfunction
All art used here are under fair use.
Tuesday, June 12, 2018
Saturday, June 9, 2018
Friday, June 8, 2018
Tuesday, June 5, 2018
Monday, January 1, 2018
Interlude
That's all for the 1st series. Between the 2 series was a large writing block and other real life issues pulling away my attention. Actually, the last caption of the 1st series, What Chant Practice?: http://tgworkshop.blogspot.com/2018/08/what-chant-practice.html is something of an intermediate between the 2 series, both in the theme and idea behind the caption. The 1st series focuses on "What can be done", testing the limits of TG writing, while the 2nd series is a return to familiar themes, presenting some new gimmicks and twists. That caption has both, a new outcome developing on one of the other's ideas.
Posts after this will be from the 2nd series, written during the months leading up to now. Enjoy!
Posts after this will be from the 2nd series, written during the months leading up to now. Enjoy!
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.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
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