Caught in a moment

Apologies: I somehow lost the image file for this–a half-dressed Velma cosplayer–and I can’t find it anywhere online. And because I actually described it in detail, I can’t use other images in its place! On the other hand… I described it in detail, so… I guess you can use your imaginations? Sorry.

(Originally posted as an exclusive to my Sponsus on September 14, 2019. Check out the link for dozens of early-access microfics and stories!)

A suspended moment. A cute, curvy woman with glasses, her hand just touching the rim, her sweater half on, or is that half off? Either way, it’s around her arms, but only a bra hides any part of her torso, and very little of that. Skirt and knee socks complete the ensemble, but the question remains.

Was she putting the sweater on? Surprised in the middle of dressing by a bolt of mental energy, suddenly frozen, her mind suddenly too busy absorbing new programming to process even the simple task of dressing.

Or perhaps she was taking it off? Pulling it off over her head, when she lowered her arms her gaze fell on a swirling spiral, and she was caught, her thoughts swirling away, down, down into the spiral, leaving her blank and ready to be rewritten.

Or perhaps it doesn’t matter. All that matters is that she is caught, and whether her intent was to put the sweater on or take it off, soon she’ll definitely be taking it off, along with everything else.

Running out the clock

Karrigan Taylor

(Originally posted as a $2/story exclusive to my Patreon on March 31, 2019. Check out the link for dozens of early-access photo captions and stories! As long as the Patreon stays over $100/story, I’ll post year-old captions here!)

She was running out of time. Somewhere in this old house was the secret of what was happening to her, why her body had been changing since she entered, why it was getting harder and harder to think.

A reason, which she needed, needed because… well, it was a mystery, and she solved those, right? 

She thought so. It was getting hard to remember–hard to believe she’d ever been that smart.

She needed to hurry, needed to find a cure while she could still remember why she wanted to be cured!

Because it felt so very, very good to let her intelligence slip away, her body shift into something made for pleasure…

Karrigan Taylor

A noise made her turn, and her thoughts slipped away. She turned, and saw a stranger.

“Um…” she said, and giggled. “Do you remember why I’m here?”

Fortunately, they did, and were able to explain it to her–why she was there, and why she would not be leaving.






This was supposed to go up yesterday, and yesterday’s post was supposed to go up today. Oops.

(Continued from this post)

“And here we have two of our best sellers, Daphne and Velma. as with all our girls, they will maintain character at all times, subject to modification by your requested scenario. However, we have added an additional element: these meddling kids are bisexual girlfriends always open for a threesome with the right man!

And that can be you, or whatever other scenario you desire! $700/hr each, or $1200 for both.”



I knew it 😊😊❤

Velma & Daphne
Cosplayers: @moniqalefevre & MicroKitty​
Photographer: Alien Being Media


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“Velma, Daphne,” ordered Master. “You want each other, desperately.”

Daphne had no memory anymore of the time before she was Daphne. The name Phoebe held no resonance for her, nor did she recognize her rival for Master’s affections and approval, Velma, as her former roommate Tina. The very idea that there was such a thing as “before I was Daphne” or “before I was a slave” made no sense to her anymore. Thinking about it would have been like trying to imagine a four-sided triangle.

Nonetheless, on some level she was aware that she had no sexual interest in other women. At least, not until Master told her to. She wanted what he wanted her to want, and when he ordered her to want Velma, it was like something clicked in her brain.

As for Velma, she only had one thought as Daphne put her scarf around Velma’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss was: Finally!

(To be continued)


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In the middle of stripping for her Master, she paused to pose for him. “Like this, Master? Do you like my new clothes, my contacts?”

“Very much, Daphne. Continue.”

She froze, torn between the urge to obey and confusion. “I’m… I’m not…”

“Shh,” said Master. “Daphne is a good girl who obeys. You want to be a good girl, don’t you? You want to obey.”

“…I… I want…”

“You want to be Daphne.”

“I… want to be…”

“You are Daphne.”

“I’m… Daphne…”

(To be continued)


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Phoebe stared blankly into the mirror. She felt so strange. It was hard to think, hard to focus, and yet somehow that felt incredibly good. Thoughts tumbled half-formed through her confused head, but slowly something like a plan emerged, or at least a series of needs that functioned like a plan.

She needed to buy new clothes. What she was wearing was… wrong.

The image of what she should like flashed through her head. Something about it was familiar… but no, that thought fluttered away, driven out  by the intense awareness of how badly she needed to dye her hair.

And the glasses… the glasses were wrong too. But she needed them to see! Unless…

Yes… once she had the dye and the new clothes, she needed to get contacts. That place Velm–that place Tina got her new glasses from, she would go there. Everything would make sense once she looked right.

(To be continued)


Source :

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Velma posed for her master as he snapped pictures.

“You have no idea,” Master was saying, “how long it took to find someone who met my requirements. Someone who wore glasses, socially isolated so you wouldn’t be missed, and matched the body type requirements… fortunately you’re a perfect fit.”

Velma suppressed the urge to smile. She was supposed to have a more serious face for this round of pictures, and obeying was the most important thing. Still, it was hard not to smile in response to such praise from her Master.

“Not to mention,” he continued, “having a roommate who is equally isolated, wears glasses, and matches those requirements. You were quite the find. Speaking of, did you swap out her glasses like I told you?”

“Of course, Master,” Velma replied. “I obey.”

“Good girl.”

She shuddered in orgasmic pleasure, but kept it from showing on her face. Master knew, and would be pleased she managed to obey…

(To be continued…)


Jessica Nigri as Velma

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“Strip,” he ordered, and down her skirt went, immediately and obediently. Some last gasp of resistance took the command as a chance to pull of her glasses, but all it took was a sharp “Leave those on” and it withered.

It felt too good to say yes, too good to give in. Whoever she had been before, she was Velma now, and Velma obeyed. Soon even her vague memories of once having been someone else would fade, and the there would be nothing but Velma.

She couldn’t wait.

(To be continued)


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(Continued from this post)

She took off the glasses, but his command to pose still echoed in her head. She wanted to do it, desperately, and between struggling to remember who she was and focusing on removing the glasses, she couldn’t hold on to why she shouldn’t do as he said.

Pleasure filled her as he admired her. She loved being looked at and she loved obeying. Had she always? It seemed like maybe there was a time she hadn’t…

“Put your glasses back on, Velma,” he said.

Velma? Was that her name? It didn’t sound quite right, but she couldn’t think of any other name. And while she puzzled over that, she forgot to keep the glasses off, and back they went on her face.

Yes, that was right. She was Velma. Velma was a good girl who wore her glasses and obeyed.


Obeyed her… Master! That was who the familiar seeming man was!

“That’s right, Velma. Come along, let me show you where you’ll be staying from now on…”

(To be continued)


Hottest Cosplayer features the hottest cosplayers from around the world! Submit your photos to be featured! Submit as many photos as you want!

(Continued from this post)

She stared in awe at the man. There was something about him–a presence, a power–that made her knees weak and her pussy wet.

“Come with me,” he said, and instinctively she followed.

After they had walked for a bit, he turned to her and asked, “Who are you?”

“I’m Ve–” she said automatically, and then stopped. Something was wrong. There were two names in her head, and one was wrong. But which one? “I’m Ti–” she stopped again.

This confusion. His power over her. They were connected somehow. To each other and to the glasses. She had to take them off!

“Pose for me,” he said, smirking, but even as she moved to obey she struggled to lift her reluctant hands to her face and remove the glasses…

(To be continued)