Kophis takes a day off to do some shopping, but every time they use magic they get more mall-bimboified. Explicit.
One of the most useful bits of magic Kophis knew was their ‘unremarkability’ spell. An androgynous fox in a loincloth-dress and ancient silver jewelry wandering around a mall circa 2005 would normally be worthy of note—but one flick of their fingers, and mortals’ eyes glazed over and anything out of the ordinary from the last few minutes would slip out of their minds.
“So I can say whatever I want right now,” Kophis explained, oblivious to the quiet desperation on the face of the cashier who was trying to check them out. “For instance, I came here on a magic island. I parked it in the food court and disguised it as a smoothie stand.”
“Wow,” the cashier said. “Are you—”
“I brought it here because it’s been running low on chaos magic, so I’m letting it charge up. You’re supposed to use ley lines for that, not malls, but malls generate so much raw chaos magic that it cuts the charging time from a few weeks to a few hours.”
The woman behind the counter nodded, hoping they would get tired of talking soon. “Nice. Do—”
Kophis continued onward, enjoying the opportunity to brag consequence-free. “It’s because of all the capitalism crammed into one building. And using chaos magic inside of mall is like trying to light a match in a room full of propane. Mall are just that messed up. Of course, it’s no problem for an expert tarassomancer like myself. So, since I’ve got time to spare, I’m doing some shopping.”
Fixing Kophis with an annoyed glare, the cashier finally just asked, “Cash or credit?”
Kophis said, “Credit,” and made a show of snapping their fingers to summon a credit card out of thin air. The swirl of their own magic around their hand sent ripples through the flow of ambient chaos-magic energy that permeated the mall. As those ripples rolled over Kophis, it felt as if they’d had seltzer water poured over their brain. For a few moments they just swayed in place, slack-jawed and staring into space.
The cashier snatched the credit card out of Kophis’s hand, swiped it through the register, and then briskly shoved the sheets and matching pillowcases into the bag and pushed it across the counter. “If you’re such a cool wizard, how come you don’t have a ‘summon bedsheets’ spell?”
Kophis, the quick-tongued trickster, was at a loss for words. Their snout wrinkled and their ears folded back as they struggled to think of a scathing repartee. “It’s…look, summoned objects have different rules. Say I wanted to make a sheet ghost costume. I couldn’t summon sheets and enchant them…” Damn it. Now that they’d said it out loud, it sounded kind of silly. They’d have to scratch the sheet-ghost scheme and come up with something else.
All the cashier said was, “Cool,” but it was so thick with sarcasm it felt like a slap across the cheek.
“Whatever, mortal,” Kophis grumbled. They grabbed their bag and flicked an unremarkability spell at her on their way out, then nearly stumbled into the door as the mall’s chaos magic reverberated around them.
Unfortunately, there was no such thing as an unembarrassability spell.
26 March, 2023
A business catgirl turns into an embarrassingly anime catgirl. In the middle of the office, no less! Explicit.
Tara’s big presentation for the board of directors had gone well, until her hair turned candy-apple red.
For instance, she’d gotten to the conference room with half an hour to spare, so that her laptop would be hooked up and ready to go. She’d even had enough time to duck into the bathroom for a couple minutes, to make sure that both her chin-length black hair and the feline ears poking out of it were brushed and tidy. And once she got started, she didn’t even have to check her notes. She was only a few slides away from the end when things went wrong.
One of the board members raised their hand and leaned forward. They didn’t even look up from the phone in their hand. Tara couldn’t remember their name but was immediately sure they had always been on the board and she shouldn’t question whether they had. Unable to guess whether she ought to call them sir or ma’am, she had to settle for asking, “Yes?”
They kept their eyes on their phone. “Question. Have you considered kawaii?”
Tara breathed in sharply and a small chill ran down her spine, all the way to the tip of her black tail. One of the board member’s jackal-ears twitched, as if they’d heard her gasp. Did they know? She’d worked hard to keep her whole thing a secret. Her laser pointer rolled anxiously between her sweating fingers. “I’m...not familiar, so no.”
“Really? I thought you’d be familiar with, y’know, nyan.” They curled their hand in a paw-like gesture.
As if a gust of wind struck her in the face her hair blew back from her face, then swung back down again, its color warmed to a bright, glossy red. With a flick of her ears and a swish of her tail, both of them had turned pastel pink.
For a moment she stood still, with the hair on the back of her neck prickling and her heart beating faster and faster. She didn’t know what to do or say. Everyone was staring at her, except for the one board member who had asked the question—they had settled back into their chair, once again occupied with their phone.
She gulped and then said, “S-sorry, Tara has to excuse herself.”
15 October, 2020
Blackjack stumbles into a sexed-up horse casino and gets a deluxe spa treatment. Mature.
This has to be a mirage, I thought. You didn't just run into spotless, beaming alicorns in the middle of the Equestrian Wasteland. Especially not hot ones with sandy fur and long, black manes and curves like she'd never seen before stuffed into skin-tight bikinis and...
I shook my head. Don't get distracted. Don't look at her chest. (Seriously, how did she have a chest like that? It was so round and soft.) Okay, don't look at her chest, starting now.
"Who are you?" I asked.
With a flick of her bangs and a flutter of her eyes, she said, "I'm Oasis Shimmer, and I'm here to welcome you to The Horse Luxor." As she swept her hoof out in front of her, out of the rippling air behind her appeared a pyramid faced with polished white glass, gleaming and pristine, and surrounded by a spattering of shady palm trees strung up with pink and purple neon lights.
Which is to say that it was some extremely mirage nonsense. All I could think to say was "What?"
"It's a casino, dummy," Oasis said with a roll of her eyes. "And since we haven't been getting many customers, you've been selected to get the deluxe package, on the house."
Damn it, now I was staring at her lips. Thick and plump, painted with glossy purple lipstick, squeezed into a coy pout... Hey, give me some credit, at least it wasn't her chest this time. I tried to come up with some excuse not to go along with this, just on the off chance that it might be real, but everyone else was busy, and Oasis was perplexingly hot.
"Oh, uh...well, why not?" I said.
14 October, 2019
A certain someone gets sent to the Vacation Zone and gets turned into an otter bimbo along the way. Mature.
It was spam—it had ended up in his inbox, but it was obviously spam. In colorful bold letters it said, 'Congratulations, you have won a free Beach Vacation! Redemption begins in...' with a timer next to it, ticking down from ten. Curious, he waited for it to count down to zero. Nothing happened, it just stopped. He wasn't sure what he'd expected, a gif of confetti to pop up?
With a click, he sent the spam email to the trash, then turned and pried himself up from his chair. He rubbed his hand along his face. It felt like he'd been sitting in front of his computer all morning. A quick brush of his tongue wet his dry, tender lips...and then they bulged outward.
His lips pressed against either side of his tongue. It felt as if a sudden rush of fluid had been pumped straight to his mouth, swirling out and filling up the available space, leaving his lips taut and nicely plump. He sucked a gasp through his light pout and clapped his hands over his mouth. The urge to fiddle with them was too strong though; they were just so strange that he couldn't resist prodding at them, tugging them, squeezing them gently between his thumb and forefinger to feel their firmness.
In the middle of squeezing them, they swelled out again. With his fingers on his lips, he could feel the pressure welling up from inside, pushing outward against his fingertips, then firming up like a plush pillow. Gingerly, he felt at the edges of his lips. They were large, not unreasonable, but certainly a bit surprising to find on a guy like him.
4 September, 2018
In this story, someone turns into a cartoon rubber doberman, then turns someone else into a cartoon rubber poodle via sex. So, y'know, be warned. Explicit.
It started with a hiss.
He'd been hunched over the desk for---geez, was that the time?---hours, and his back had begun protesting. He set down the pen and rose from his seat, straightened up and arched his spine. There went his joints: pop, pop, pop! A crack so sharp he heard it echo down the hall, followed by a low, steady hissing noise.
Did someone turn on a faucet? He cocked his head, glancing up at the ceiling, then over his shoulder. The sound wasn't coming from the walls. And it wasn't quite as light as running water; it sounded tighter and thicker. He turned in place and waited a moment, but the sound didn't change. The heavy hiss seemed like it was coming from...beneath him.
He looked down. His eyes fell on his crotch, bulging against the front of his jeans. Its shape was smooth and swollen, and slowly straining against the denim while he watched. He staggered backward; his bulging crotch bobbled from side to side against his thighs. The wall caught him and he stood there, staring down at his expanding crotch.
Damn it, not again!
24 June, 2018
A stressed-out college student relaxes by turning herself into a bimbo. Mature.
Kris thunked her face down into the middle of her textbook and let out a groan. Her lips stuck to the pages, which was probably gross, considering she'd bought it used. Dragging back her red hair, she pulled herself up, then folded her arms and flopped back down.
Midterms could eat a dick. Her first one wasn't until next Monday, but she'd been studying all day and she'd barely gotten through the first two weeks of class. She hadn't even changed clothes. She was still wearing the blue, palm-tree-patterned pajama pants and old high school Quiz Bowl tee shirt she'd worn to bed. It wasn't that she didn't want to take a break, it was that she couldn't. Even if she tried to nap, she'd just lie in bed stressing out over her impending doom until her stress headache came back.
What she needed was to relax.
Kris tipped her head to the side and glanced up at the shelf above her desk. Sitting on the side next to her closet was a round red button with a silver base. She reached up and pulled it down, setting it on the desk in front of her. In bold white letters across the was printed 'RELAX'.
Kris tapped her fingers across the letters. She'd never used the button before; never really had a need to. Now, between her headache and gnawing anxiety and her inability to get some rest, this was as good a time as any to try it out.
Her fingertips danced on top of the button while she pursed her lips. Either she should do it now, or put it away, she told herself. She pushed the button with her palm. It sank until hitting the bottom with a ker-click!