Witchgirl and Flexi have been transformed by the mysterious Dr. Gizmo!
Not my work, stumbled on this in a backed up folder. Finally was able to locate the original author and site: Witchgirl on the now archived SuperStories.net
Dr. Gizmo checks the data on his instruments. All the readings are perfect. Flexi and Witchgirl have completely embraced their programming. Their bodies have stabilized. They are now no longer who they once were; they are now Trudy, otherwise known as Mommy Gizmo, and Jenny, otherwise known as Cheerleader Gizmo. “Digitron,” he says. “Download my family.”
Mommy Gizmo and Jenny Gizmo appear in the center of the room, Mommy Gizmo teetering on her 5 inch heels. Jenny Gizmo smiles and sighs deeply. Her new body feels absolutely great!
“Thank you, dear.” Mommy Gizmo says to her husband. “It’s so nice to have our family back together again!”
Jenny Gizmo looks down at herself. “Thanks for the great redesign, dad! I especially like what you did with my tits.”
“Jenny!” Mommy Gizmo says. “Nice girls don’t use the word ‘tits’!”
Dr. Gizmo grins. Jenny Gizmo smiles slyly. “Sorry, mom.” She turns back to Dr. Gizmo. “My breasts. I like what you did with my breasts.”
Concept and characters generously provided by VoidGolem.
Further Down The Spiral – July 1999
“It’s too big, it won’t fit. I told you this would be painful, but you’ve got a one track mind.”
I leaned back in my chair, not ready to give up yet. “I can’t stop now, I’m close. It’s right in front of me, if I could just…”
Aaron cut me off. “It’s not happening with your internet connection. Your trying to download a full disk image, almost a gig, over a 56k connection. The server will keep timing out… hell, I’m surprised you can connect at all.”
Two weeks of searching online for Prefect Wife Inc. and this was all I had. A ghost… or to be more specific a .ghost image file. I had no idea what the hell it was, or how I could open it. That’s why Aaron, my old Debate Club partner and class ‘hacker’ was on the phone with me.
“Are you sure you can’t just come over and walk me through this in person? I can’t talk and browse, my house only has one line.” I glanced down at the notes I’d made so far, and already knew I was lost. “How do I even install the FTP? Just bike over here.”
“No can do, good buddy.” I could hear Aaron typing away while he was talking. “House arrest. You know that.”
He was exaggerating, but not by much. After accessing some teacher’s personal documents on the school network, he’d been suspended and grounded. Aaron didn’t even walk at graduation; he got his diploma mailed after some community service.
“So how do I download it? Can you do it for me? I could swing by and pick it up…” I was desperate.
“Nope. You’re going to need a T1 line if you want to snag that baby.”
“And where do I find one of those?”
“Not in Bedford. We’re not wired for fiber. Closest one is…” he stopped typing. “Say, aren’t you going to State this fall?”
Concept and characters generously provided by VoidGolem. Special thanks to @talesforsluts everyone who provided edits and feedback on this chapter, including @generalwizardtragedy, @totallynotskynet and @paradoxguild679.
The Line Begins to Blur – Late June 1999
Sneaking around wasn’t something I was good at.
I’d gotten drunk once. It was some post-track meet party, and someone handed me a Jack and Coke. I spent most of the night just in a side room, playing video games, trying not to throw up from the awful taste. To be honest, most of that night was a blur.
The clearest memory was trying, and failing, to act nonchalant. I puked as soon as I’d walked in my front the door, mostly from nerves of my parents catching me stumbling in so late.
Playing it cool was not my strength.
“You’re absolutely, positively sure she’s at the gym all afternoon?” I was keeping my voice low while Naomi let me into her foyer.
“HEY MOM!” Naomi screamed, cupping her hand to her mouth for effect. “RYAN AND I ARE GOING TO DO CRACK IF YOU WANT TO JOIN!”
I flinched a bit, but the silence proved her point. We were totally alone in the house.
“Point made.” I said, slipping off my shoes.
“You turn red so easily.” Naomi chuckled. “Seriously, your ears look like they’re on fire.”
“Hardy-har-har. I’m glad you’re taking this seriously.”
She led me down the hall to the computer room, more of a nook just off the kitchen. Unlike the attic, it was immaculately staged. Not a hint of dust or clutter.
It was also totally exposed. if someone were to walk through the front door, we’d have seconds before our cover was blown.
“So if she comes home early…?” I dragged a kitchen chair next to the monitor.
“If she comes home early, I’ll just yank out the power cable before she can see anything.” Naomi sat at the keyboard and flicked on the screen.
“It’s a laptop though.” I pointed at black, closed Gateway locked into the docking. “You pull the plug and nothing will happen.”
“Then I’ll turn off the screen. Keep it cool, Mr. Privacy.” she was already connecting. The modem started it’s mechanical cry of life as she logged in.
VoidGolem provided me with an original outline, and I’ve been going all in on it for the last couple of weeks.
It’s proving to be much more involved than planned, and I suck at self-editing anything longer than a couple of paragraphs.
If there are any readers out there that feel up to wading through my rough draft, send me a message and I’ll share the Google Doc link for viewing and commenting.
Note: This story is F2F bimbo/stepford transformation, with a heavy Asian stereotype. Most of what I have is set up, with hints of transformation and a short hypnosis scene near the end.
Concept and characters generously provided by VoidGolem. Special thanks to @talesforsluts edits and suggestions.
Pretty Fate Machine – June 1999
Alone we were alone in her bedroom, and I was trying very hard not to read into that.
Naomi was hot. Her black hair was shoulder length, with a subtle blue streak she’d dyed in for graduation. Though she didn’t show it off, it was impossible not to see she’d inherited her mother’s curves and flawless features.
Naomi was intelligent. She’d been accepted into an Ivy when we’d started dating, and her name was always on the short list for valedictorian.
Naomi was cool. She listened to cool bands, like The Pixies. She looked bad-ass, with unquestionably more fashion sense than the average Ohio suburban teenager. Not quite ‘grunge’, not quite ‘emo’… she could just could rock a leather jacket and eyeliner.
But more than anything right now, Naomi was upset.
“My mother’s awful! She never takes anything I do seriously.”
Naomi paced the room, eyes still a bit red. She’d stopped crying by the time I’d arrived, but a couple sniffles and the slight streak of makeup gave it away immediately.
“Well, that’s not true. She liked when I joined track, though she was pissed it wasn’t cheerleading.” There was a slight sneer in her voice.
It was difficult to picture Naomi with pom-poms, cheering at a pep rally. To be clear, she was in great shape and definitely had the body. With her ripped jeans and Not that I’d ever tell her, but her figure
“Did I ever tell you what my mother did the day of the SAT? She scheduled us a spa day! I had been talking about it all week, but first thing Saturday morning…”
She put a hand on her (not insignificant) hips, flipped her hair and puckered her lips. “Naomi, you no need to take this Es-Ay-Te.”
I winced a bit. Even if it was dead accurate, it still made me uncomfortable when Naomi imitated her mother’s heavy accent.
The first time I saw Naomi’s mother, it was actually at a cross country meet. Some random, impossibly fit woman, cheering and bouncing up and down in a tight blue dress. Who wears a dress like that to Bedford High School on weekend? Mrs. Junko Walcott, that’s who.
It wasn’t difficult to figure out who she was rooting for. Naomi was one of maybe six non-white students in our class. Even if the Asian MILF in the stands hadn’t been screaming her name, there was no way for Naomi to hide from the ridiculous woman.
I didn’t really know Naomi back then, and it was another year before the awkward blind-date at prom. When we made out on the couch and somehow, impossibly, started dating. I had no doubt it wasn’t going to last past the summer, just a post senior-year fling before we went to our respective schools in the fall.
“And now, even after I somehow made it into Brown, I’m going to lose my registration because she’s too busy to help me file the paperwork! She’s dropping Kat off at summer camp, then she’s at the gym…”
So we were alone in her bedroom, with no parent coming back for hours… I shifted slightly on her bed, trying to focus on the issue at hand. Trying not to think with my dick, which was ashamedly difficult to do.
“Ryan… I’m sorry, I didn’t want to drag you into this.” She flopped down next to me and gave me a hug. “My mother has always been a shitty mom, I shouldn’t let her get to me. I should know better.”
“No, it’s fucked up,” I assured her. “I can’t imagine my parents… anyone’s parents blowing off their kid like that. My dad threw a party when I got into State. State.”
She sighed. “I really don’t know how I can be so different from my mother. She’s such an airhead! Ugggh!”
“Forget her,” I said, trying to sound confident. “We can do this. I’ll help you.”
She looked up with the first smile I’d seen since I arrived. “Seriously? You’re ok with spending the day helping your girlfriend fill out forms? I don’t even know where half the stuff I need is…”
“It’s cool. I know someone really smart who can help,” I learned in and fake-whispered. “She got into Brown.”
A sample of Chapter One from my current work in progress. Concept and characters were generously provided by VoidGolem. Special thanks to @talesforsluts for some great edits and suggestions.
Naomi was chewing her hair absentmindedly, which stuck me as out of character. But then, I’d never seen her this nervous before.
“Hey…” I said leaning in and putting an arm around her. “Maybe it’s just porn?”
She blinked, then cracked a pained smirk. “Oh god…” She was half laughing, half crying. “You’re the worst.” She leaned in and buried her head in my chest. I kissed the top of her head and pulled her close. This whole thing was surreal for me, I couldn’t imagine what was going through Naomi’s mind.
She looked up at me and started to say something when the TV blared out.
“The Perfect Wife Program!” a loud, movie-trailer styled voice read off the cheesy-80’s title that faded on screen. Generic background muzak faded in; the slight warble in the old tape’s tracking gave it an eerie sound.
The picture faded into a generic, windowless office, where a grey-suited man was sitting at a comically large oak desk.
“Welcome! We here at Perfect Wife Inc. are happy you’ve chosen to subscribe to our full Platinum Service. We’re confident this new program will bring our trusted brand into the future, with all the technology the 1980s will have to offer!”
Now the nameless suit was walking through a busy office, grinning and continuing his pitch.
“Our clients are realists, practical men who know times are changing. Women now have a more prominent role at work and at home.Why just take Susan here,” he gestured to a woman typing at a table behind him. She looked like a porn-star than a secretary, with huge tits, heavy makeup and blown-out platinum hair. “Sharp as a tack and cute as a button!”
“I can do anything a man can do!” The blonde mugged to the camera, delivering her lines in a stilted, high pitched voice. “Why would I stay at home?”
“That’s right Suzzie!” The man patted her head lightly.
“Christ, where did they dig up that bimbo?” Naomi muttered. I didn’t say it, but I was starting to suspect we’d already seen how Perfect Wife Inc. recruited.
“But just because the world is changing, that doesn’t mean you can’t still have what every man wants.” The screen did a hacky, harp-scored dissolve to a generic 1950’s kitchen. The narrator and Suzzie appeared with a cartoon ‘pop.’
“With the new Perfect Wife program, you have all the tools you need to build the family of your dreams!” The narrator snapped his fingers and Suzzie was suddenly a retro, pin-up housewife; a technicolor model that would have looked right at home in any Nick-at-Nite rerun.
“But mister,” Suzzie cooed. “Won’t I get bored with this big brain?”
“Oh fuck…” Naomi sat upright, just putting together what I’d already feared.
“No worries missy. We’ll take care of that!” The narrator winked at the camera. “Now we’ve been keeping you at home waiting long enough. Be sure you’ve read all the included instructions. And, as always, our customer service team can assist you if any glitches arise!”
The narrator and Suzzie faded out, replaced with bold text on a black background:
PROGRAM START
“What did we just watch?” Naomi asked, “And what’s that awful tone?”
“What tone?”
I looked over at her, expecting her to be in tears after all that, maybe even furious.
Instead, she was staring blankly ahead at the screen, mouth slightly ajar.
VoidGolem provided me with an original outline, and I’ve been going all in on it for the last couple of weeks.
It’s proving to be much more involved than planned, and I suck at self-editing anything longer than a couple of paragraphs.
If there are any readers out there that feel up to wading through my rough draft, send me a message and I’ll share the Google Doc link for viewing and commenting.
Note: This story is F2F bimbo/stepford transformation, with a heavy Asian stereotype. Most of what I have is set up, with hints of transformation and a short hypnosis scene near the end.
What do you want? For me to be an obedient, eager to cook and clean, baby-wanting mistress of yours? PUH-LEASE! I’ll never wear an apron! Or high heels. Or a mini skirt! You want a slut, a baby-having slut! You don’t want a woman with her own mind or a cause to fight for or an opinion! You want me to be at your beck and call, to…
…what? You have what for me? What’s this? An herbal supplement? Is it organic? Is it natural? Oh, all right then. That’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me. A gift? You’ve never… well, I won’t bother you then. Go back to work, honey.
I’ll leave you alone in your office. What? Oh, I must not have called you “honey.” You know I wouldn’t do that…
Uggh… I’m going to lie down.
…
Honey! It’s really, really urgent!
It’s more important than that stuff you’re doing with those letters… or words. Are they letters or…
My head kinda hurts…
Ugh! Stop making me think!
I need your opinion on my titties!
Like, my bra strap is showing. Is it slutty, or is it sexy?
I know, you’re my boyfriend. So I have to look respectible, but also, like someone could just fuck me?
‘Cuz then, it makes you look good!
And that’s why I’m here, right? You buy me things so I can make you look good!
So, to recap, these three are alone in the house, unknowingly in the middle of a True Augmented Reality testing environment.
Yup. Ashley, Josh’s crush, is suddenly his doting girlfriend. Did her original boyfriend get wiped from existence or…?
Nope, Grant is alive and well. From what we’ve gathered, just forgot why he was in town and flew back last night.
Ok, phew. I wasn’t sure about how the program would handle outside parties.
Anyway, Josh is now alone with Ashley and her redheaded friend, Megan, who both seem very keen on something happening between the three of them.
So far, the logs are just showing some attitude minor adjustment. Nothing that couldn’t be explained away by some college kids drinking a bit too much.
Then, out of left field, the “Domestic Kink” protocol gets loaded in.
**CLICK**
Josh was sure they had just been in the kitchen, but thinks just… jumped and now he was sitting next to Megan on the couch.
“Sooooo…” Megan was twirrling her hair with a finger, biting her lip slightly. “You know Ashley and I aren’t really looking forward to studying. In fact, I’ve been going crazy with the whole school thing.”
“Seriously?” This was news to him. Megan was a bit of an ice queen socially, but she’d had the reputation of an overachiever in their Econ class. This is like some twilight zone shit…. And where’s Ashley?
“Totes serious, Joshy.” Megan continued, sounding less like herself by the second. “Like, I knew I was just going to college to snag some cutie, and maybe party, but I’m soooo over it already.”
“So no grad school?” Josh was looking around for Ashley, if only to have a witness to this madness.
“LAWL. Josh, you know I’m only interested in getting my MRS.’” Megan giggled, and took another drink from her vodka martini.
Wait, wasn’t that a vodka lemonade in a solo cup? Josh shook his head, things were getting difficult to follow. He felt drunk, even though didn’t remember taking a sip of anything tonight.
Megan continued on, oblivious to Josh’s divided attention. “Like, I totally had an eye on this cutie in my Econ class, buuuuut he was taken by some hottie!”
She finished off her Martini with a slight whine escaping her lips.
“Heey, don’t worry about me Joshy.” Megan said, mistaking his confusion for awkward pity. “I totally get why you’re with Ashley. She’s like the hottest babe in the quad!”
Megan leaned in close, and Josh suddenly was aware of just how fucking hot Megan looked tonight. He was still craning his neck behind the couch, looking for his friend, but it was increasingly difficult to ignore the new Megan.
**CLICK**
Josh wasn’t sure if it was the strong smell of her perfume mixed the vodka on her breath, but the world swam for a second.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Megan was whispering so close to his ear, her nose brushed against his cheek.
“I’m jealous but also, like, a total lezzie for Ashley. Between you and her, I’m not sure who I’d rather fuck.” She slipped in a tipsy giggle. “But it’s not like I haven’t spent waaay too much time thinking about it.”
Josh stammered, and Megan pulled herself back, blushing under her makeup.
“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I totally don’t want you to think I’m some kind of creep! I’ve just Facebook stalked you two a bit…. And maybe gotten off a couple of times.”
Josh’s mouth was open, but before he could find the words, he saw Ashley out of the corner of his eye, coming down the stairs.
“Sorry! I’m going to shut up! We’re all PG-13 in here Ash!” Megan said, raising her hands in mock innocence.
Josh got up and walked over to meet Ashley, only to stop halfway to the stairs. Ashley had changed as well, and he needed a moment to take her in.
Instead of her normal jeans and casual top, Ashley was in a tight fitting but professional dress, heels and all. Her makeup, which she’d rarely spent much time on, was heavier than normal but flawless.
“Hey Ashley, ummm, are you going out?”
It looks like she should be going to the country club, to join the gaggle of Stepford hotties I saw earlier.
“What? You’re so silly, babe! You know I just like to dress up for you whenever I can!” Ashley’s voice was higher, more feminine. “Do you really think I look hot tonight?” She smiled with the slightest bit of pride in her face.
“Ashley, you look… amazing.” Josh squeaked out.
“More like hot as fuck!” Megan interjected from behind.
“Megan!” Ashley said with wide eyes.
“Sorry! I’m drunk. Couldn’t help it.” Megan looked genuinely nervous as Ashely sat next to her.
“Uhhhh, yeah.” Josh tried to collect his thoughts. “Megan was just telling me about how she was looking forward to… finding a guy and dropping out?” The words sounded wrong, but seemed to fit with her new ditzy Valley Girl voice and outgoing personality.
As much as he hated to admit it, the whole regressive airhead thing was turning him on…
**CLICK**
“Hey, that’s totally the plan.” Ashley gave a light shoulder bump to her friend. “I mean, who needs a degree if we can just snag some strong man to take care of you.
“We’ll miss out on all the awesome greek parties, but it’s totally not worth all the pretending to care about grades and stuff. Ugh!”
The before tonight, Ashley had been a staunch feminist and driven student. Josh had seen her honk and flick off line of sorority pledge line, yelling ‘Sheep!’ out the window.
“Josh, I know we said I’d get at least a year in, but I’m counting the days where I can just be your sexy housewife.” Ashley giggled “Don’t deny you’ve been ‘forgetting’ a condom these last few months. I know you can’t wait to knock me up and get a hot trophy wife.”
“Ugh! Jealous!!” Megan threw her head back and sighed. “You know I can’t stand that ‘equal gender’ bullshit they tried to teach in Sociology. I just want a rich hunk with a big cock who’ll keep fucking me full of babies. At least ‘till I can retire as a MILF.”
“Hey, just need to find the right guy!” Ashley blew Josh a kiss. “Let’s get started before the pizza guy gets here!”
“Wait… studying… but…?” Josh was struggling with his own horniess and shame to manage a complete thought. It was like some crazy, shameful, misogynistic fantasy had been pulled from a hazy wet dream. He was painfully hard, but still paranoid that the girls were playing a bizarre joke on him.
Like the situation was a fragile reality that could break any moment.
“Study, LAWL! Funny Joshy.” Megan scooted forward on the couch. “Come on, let’s play truth or dare! Like, we’re if still in college, let’s take advantage of it!”
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