“Good Roots” by Reina Reign

Amazing Asian self-transformation story from a new author.

Read “Good Roots” on Reina Reign’s blog.

About two months ago, I got a message from Reina. She shared a rough draft of what is unquestionably the hottest self transformation story I’ve seen in a long time.

The language training sequence may be the best “adopting a faux Asian accent” prose I’ve ever read.

If you like my content, I can’t recommend Reina’s story highly enough.

A Confession from Mr. Hyde

Back when I was an irresponsibly horny teen, I was dating a girl 100% for her looks and the sex. 

She was obnoxious, vapid and shallow. Everyone – friends, family – hated her, but she was head over heels infatuated with me.

So 19 year old me (being the toxic creep I was) told her if she kept me horny, I’d never break up with her.

She called it my “Mister Hyde” weakness.

For over a year, she enabled me to just be a selfish, spoiling ‘daddy’ to her – and I would give her more ammunition every time.

“If you edge me for hours, I’ll say I love you more than anything.”

“If you wear this outfit and pretend to be your sister, I’ll blow off my father’s birthday.”

“If you keep me turned on, I’ll never leave you.”

It was a horrible, enabling relationship. 

And some of the hottest sex I’ve ever had.

(Before you ask: yes, she was Asian.)

Drunk on Ginny

Looking through my flagged posts on Tumblr, I found this from the before times. Actually, I think this predates any of my original writing.

The lovely @drunk-on-ginny made this story from a prompt I submitted. It’s too good to have disappear from the internet, so republishing it here with a SFWish image so future generations can enjoy.


Thanks for the submission and suggestion 800milesisadrive! The suggestion was like an inverted transformation scenario – the subject doesn’t transform, but her world does…

Continue reading “Drunk on Ginny”

How Zulo Can You Go?

Marissa finds the Medallion of Zulo in an antique armoire and demonstrates it on her husband, Chris. They have a little fun with it, until trouble hits.

by Thomas the Tame

Read the full original story on FictionMania

Note: This is without a doubt one of my favorite TF scenes of all time. I thought it lost for years until someone helped figure out that it’s a “Medallion of Zulo” story from fictionmania.tv!
I’m reposting my favorite section here with some minor edits for Tumblr. The full story contains gender-swapping, but this part focuses on mostly consensual age-regression.


The door whipped open from the inside, pulling the keys from Chris’s hands. He smiled to greet his wife, but was stopped cold by an unfamiliar face.

“Hello. You must be Mrs. Hartley’s husband.”

She was young, very young, too young, too damn young to be so pretty, with that pert cheerleader nose, and blonde hair that hung loose over her shoulders, around her face, and only seemed to find sexier and sexier ways of messing up itself. His next glance–done before he could help himself- -shot straight down her tank top. Oh god, creamy white breasts, small and perky, nipples as upturned as that sorority girl nose of hers. Who was she and how could he get rid of her before his dick jumped out of his pants and into her–

“Where’s, uh, my wife?”

The girl backed away. It didn’t help. Her tank top was short, and her smooth white belly peeked out and winked at him. He swore that little “inney” of hers was teasing him. Everything about this girl was a tease; she couldn’t help herself; her body seemed designed for it. Her bra was black he noticed; the straps were not very well concealed. The sprinkles of freckles that ran up and down her arms (like sensual constellations) made him lose track of his thoughts.

” . . . back in a few hours. She said I could hang out here until she got back. That’s okay . . . isn’t it?”

Continue reading “How Zulo Can You Go?”

Ahegao is dumb

Remember back in the early 2000’s when “duck face” was a thing? It quickly became a mocked, telltale sign of vain, attention seeking girls.

“Pout your lips! It makes you look playful, and makes your face look thin!”

Nearly twenty years later, we have ahegao.

But instead of it being some halfhearted attempt, it’s fully embracing it’s appeal.

There’s no mistaking it for anything else. You can’t accidentally make the face (unless you’re cumming your brains out).

It’s advertising you look good as porn.

You don’t need to be coy about it. It’s cute, it’s lewd, it’s objectifying and silly.

It’s saying you want the attention, and don’t care about anything else.

Every woman doing it knows it reduces them, but if anything that’s only made it more popular.

This is what the popular girls do – the girls all your friends and peers look up to.

Forget about being respected. The attention feels better than anything else.

Give into peer pressure.

Embrace being dumb.

Embrace being porn.

Embrace being a bimbo.

True Fans Know

Min needs to prove herself to be a true fan.

“Fake Nerd Girl”!
Do you have any idea how fucking toxic you sound right now?

Wait… what the fuck did you just do to me?
I look like some titty streamer!

Ok, I’m begging you. I don’t care how you did it.
Just undo it, change me back!

You know… I hate to, like, admit it…
But I do look totally hot, don’t I?

I mean, you’re laughing at me right now.
But, like, I can tell you’re totally turned on by this!

Look, I’m not saying you were right or anything…
But, like whatever, I guess this is kind of awesome?

And, like, cute boys are into all that waifu stuff, right?
Min make nerd cock hard?
*giggle*

Min love new her!
*giggle*
Min thank cute boy with sucky?

OOC – Why I don’t write Indian raceplay erotica

Do you also write about [insert race] transformation?

This is a question that’s come up a couple of times over the years. I get variations on it, but Indian is by far the most common one.

While I gotten some really solid, hot prompts before – in my head I’m immediately hitting blind spots. Big fuzzy areas on cultural views on sex, social hierarchy, gender roles, family, etc.

Most of my writing on East Asian Americans girls comes from a place of knowing (second hand) what it actually can be like as 1st or 2nd gen immigrant –  and then twisting is against stereotypes and racist shit they deal with IRL.

On the other end, of transformation – if it’s something I can go totally fictional? Give me.. idk, maybe ‘Dark Elves’? I can work with that.

But as a teen, I actually was close friends with a second-gen Indian-American girl. 

I know she dated a couple white boys and it was an issue.

I know she had never set foot in India, but had to participate in traditions that felt foreign and awkward.

I know all this – her family dynamic, her feelings, the names and general concepts in very, very broad strokes… 

And that oddly puts the Indian-American experience in an uncanny valley for me.

I know just enough to have a sense of where it should go, but I’m missing the nuance to fill in the blanks. There are these juicy twists and internal conflicts I can see outlines of – and they’re just clear enough that I don’t feel right coloring them in half-blind.

I don’t write about Japanese, Korean, Chinese, Vietnamese and Filipina race change because I know how to make it accurate. It’s the opposite – I know just enough to warp it and twist it. I know how to make it wrong and pervert it for selfish enjoyment.

So, I don’t write Indian race/cultural change for any moral reason. If anything, it’s because I can’t subvert the culture properly

A New Year’s Resolution

From the happy pink voice in your head.

This year has taught you a lot.

It’s shown how fragile the things you used to think were important really are.

“Friends”?

Boring and depressing losers who just want to play board games over Skype.

School?

Quick to take your money, shames you for not being smart enough. Nagging that you’re not “engaged” or too “unfocused” in your online classes.

Family?

Judge you when they find your OnlyFans. Freak out when your little brother was caught stroking to your vids.

Work?

Even worse than school. They call you a bimbo and an airhead on Slack like those are bad things.

This year, you’ve realized you don’t need any of them.

They don’t make you happy.

You don’t need friends when you have thousands of followers on Insta and Snapchat.

You don’t need family when Daddy takes such good care of you.

You don’t need to with a real job when being a sexy online gets you so much money.

You’ve cut them all out. Dropped out and quit your job.

This is better.

This is easier.

This makes you happier.

Embrace your objectification.