On July Afternoon

Rubilax · 10-11-2013

Authors Note: Unlike my last work, this story is focused more on mental transformations than physical ones. That isn't to say that the latter isn't present, but it's definitely more subdued in terms of descriptions and proportions if you know what I mean.

Dean squinted as he walked out onto his lawn. The front of his house was dominated by the multitude of colorful flowers and trees that the elderly man had spent nearly a third of his life cultivating. His lovely wife Jane had never understood his obsession with gardening, but she had helped him nonetheless, and together they had turned a barren, suburban lawn into a lush paradise. Now that she was gone, Dean was left alone to tend the prize-winning garden, which he was more than happy to spend his retirement doing.

Which is why he scowled when he saw beer cans lying amongst the flowers. judging by the way they were strewn across the ground, Dean guessed that they had been thrown.

But from where? he thought, as there was no one in sight.

His question was answered when another can was flung over the wooden fence that surrounded his yard. The laughter and music he heard from the direction of his neighbor’s house told him all that he needed to know; His neighbors had left town for the week and left their teenage son in charge of the house. It didn’t take a genius, much less a retired English professor, to figure out that the boy was taking advantage of his parents’ absence.

Now, Dean wasn’t opposed to letting boys be boys and have fun, but they had made the mistake of littering in his meticulously-groomed paradise.

Dean grumbled to himself as he began gathering up the cans. He had half a mind to call up the boy’s parents right then and there, but instead Dean decided that he’d go and talk to the boy himself. After all, it could have been much worse. They could have set fire to his garden.

Once he had picked up all six of the empty cans, Dean stalked back over to his house, unaware of the ancient, amorphous presence that emerged from the ground. It crept up behind the elderly man, hiding in his shadow as he entered his home.

Dean’s house was old. The furniture was at least forty years past its prime, the paint was dull with age and a strong odor clung to the air. If either Dean looked closely enough, however, he would have noticed the small, almost insignificant changes that were beginning to take place as the presence enveloped both the house and its owner in its influence.

The seventy year old man placed the cans on the kitchen counter so that he could open the cabinet containing the garbage can. He paused for a moment. Why was he throwing the cans in the garbage? Cans went in the recycling. Wait, since when did he recycle? He’d never been one to buy into the whole global warming sham. But if he didn’t recycle, then why was there a recycling bin next to the garbage can?

Dean scratched his scalp in confusion as hair sprouted from his bald spot. No, that was right. He’d always had a recycling bin. Hell, he was the one who convince his neighbors to get one when the city started implement the program back in the 80s.

He turned around to grab the cans, only to find that they weren’t empty anymore. They had been resealed, and were still bound together in the six pack rings. There were drops of condensation on them, which would make sense seeing as he had just taken them out fridge. But he didn’t like beer, he’d always preferred a glass of wine to a nice cold can of beer.

"I must be getting old," Dean muttered, shrugging his shoulders as they narrowed, "Or tired. Work was brutal yesterday."

His face silently sucked up the the sagging folds. Wrinkles faded away as his skin lightened with youth. For the first time in years, Dean now possessed a full head of hair, whose color was rapidly shifting from milky white to warm auburn as it began to curl down to his ears. Dean failed to notice all of this though, just as he didn't realize that the appliances in his kitchen had all been replaced by newer, cheaper models, or how the carpeted floors were hardening into wood. Years were slipping away from both the man and the house as the eldritch presence that was changing them bent reality to its whims.

Dean picked up the cans in his softening hands. Now why had he taken them out? He didn't have any friends over right now. They were all with their children on this fine July afternoon. He knew that he wouldn't be the only one without children for long though, seeing as his first one was on its way. That was why he and his wife had moved out here in the first place, wasn't it?

As Dean frowned, the final wrinkles vanished from his face and were replaced by a young vigor. His bushy eyebrows thinned into effeminate lines as his cheekbones became more prominent. His nose rounded and shrunk while his cheeks thickened slightly.

No, that wasn't the reason why they'd moved to Suburbia. Jane had been bugging him about having a child for a while now, dropping not so subtle hints at every turn. But dammit, he wasn't ready to be a dad just yet. He wanted to pay off his school debts and get a good job before adding someone to their small family.

All over Dean's body, hair began to lighten and sink back into his pores. The potbelly he had gained over the last 30 years appeared to be receding, though in reality the fat migrating towards different parts of his body.

As he picked up the six pack in his increasingly dainty hands, he couldn't shake the feeling as if something was off. He could have sworn that the flats screen TV had been a lot bulkier just a few seconds ago, and the windows were a lot cleaner than they had been when he walked through the house. It felt as if something was trying to stop him from noticing something, but what and why?

The presence shuddered as it felt Dean back against its power. It mentally berated itself for not having picked a younger target. Changing older creatures required a lot more effort than younger ones, and the fact that its powers were still weak from its escape didn't make it any easier for the eldritch reality bender. Snarling wordlessly to itself, it accelerated the transformation.

Scratching at his shrinking chin with his free hand, Dean began to pace around the house, unaware of the slight sway in his step as his hips began to curve outwards from his narrowing waist. There was definitely something happening here, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Why had he come inside in the first place anyways? Shouldn't he be outside, enjoying the sun while it still lasted? His skin was starting to lose the tan he had gained from working out in the yard as his interests changed. While he didn't hate the outdoors, he'd never been found of all the insects that came with it. Dean had preferred the virtual world of video games to the one found outside his door. His girlfriend Jane incessantly teased him about this.

He blinked, his eyes darkening into a deep brown.

"That's not right," he said, "Jane's my wife, not my girlfriend."

And just like that, the illusion was broken and all of the memories that had been taken from him just moments before came rushing back. He stopped in front of the mirror which he knew hadn't been there five minutes ago and gazed in horror at the androgynous figure that stared back at him.

"What..." Dean squeaked, his voice rising in pitch. He was frozen in place as he lost nearly half a foot in height, his clothes shrinking to fit, and accentuate, his new proportions. His lips thickened and his hair tumbled down to his shoulders in luscious, auburn curls, framing the round face of a cute young woman barely into her twenties. Dean's ass expanded outwards, stretching the seat of the denim short to their limits as his thighs and calves thickened juicily. His stomach gurgled as fat was drained from it to fuel his growing curves. A pair of lumps poked out of his chest as breasts began to form. The cups of the black bikini top that his dress shirt had compressed into became snug as they were filled with round, perky flesh. Dean unconsciously grasped his crotch with his free, dainty hand, only to be greeted with an empty space where his, now her, cock and balls had once been.

"This isn't possible!" Dean said, gazing upon her new, nubile form, "I'm..."

The presence choose that moment to rewrite its victim's mind. Dozens of years worth of Memories of her wife and children, of teaching teenagers the finer points of Shakespeare, of taking care of a beautiful garden, all faded away and were replaced by those of a cute college sophomore. The house mirrored this, its decor changing into one that that would better suit its owner's new lifestyle, or rather owners'.

Suddenly, she remembered why she had gone back her house; She and her two roommates had been invited by the boy next door for a day in pool while his parents were out of town. While her friends and their boyfriends jumped at the offer, Dean had hesitant up until ten minutes ago, when she said "Fuck it", turned off her PS3 and changed into proper wear for a small pool party on sunny July afternoon.

Smiling, she sauntered out of the house, bouncing the beer off of one of her hips. Now, she wasn't nearly as curvy as the girls she shared her house with, but she was happy with her slightly-above average build, as it meant that men weren't as likely to stare at her like a piece of meat every time Dean decided to show a little skin.

Dean? She thought, oblivious to fact that the once lush and colorful garden had withered away into a poorly maintained lawn, My name's Diana, not Dean.

And with that, all traces of the retired English professor were wiped from existence, leaving behind a cute, slightly geeky girl. The eldritch presence responsible for this transformation cackled at its success as it leaped ahead of the girl, over the wooden fence, and into the neighboring yard.

Goldendawn · 10-12-2013

Wow no comments - I am a big fan of slow mental changes (as anyone who reads my stuff would know :P) so I liked it. Might have been bit better drawn out more - but I know how hard it is to keep the words flowing and not be boring (I have that problem a lot).

So good work - I hope to see more of your work .... could you share a location if you put your stuff on somewhere else?

Quarma · 10-13-2013

For the most part I enjoyed this, though I think it's a bit weird that you explained her curves as stretching, thick, juicy, perky, etc., and yet she's apparently only slightly-above-average.

Edit: derp, you never said large.

Rubilax · 10-14-2013

Quote:

Originally Posted by Goldendawn

Wow no comments - I am a big fan of slow mental changes (as anyone who reads my stuff would know :P) so I liked it. Might have been bit better drawn out more - but I know how hard it is to keep the words flowing and not be boring (I have that problem a lot).

So good work - I hope to see more of your work .... could you share a location if you put your stuff on somewhere else?

I admit that I got a bit bored towards the end, so I decided to speed up the transformation process. Like you said, writing slow transformations ain't easy; it's tough to strike that write balance between a very gradual shift while also keeping the reader (and the writer for that matter) engaged in the whole ordeal.

As for the rest of my work, it's on my Deviantart account. I won't post the direct link here for non-specific reasons, but I'll send you the information via message so you can check it out.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Quarma

For the most part I enjoyed this, though I think it's a bit weird that you explained her curves as stretching, thick, juicy, perky, etc., and yet she's apparently only slightly-above-average.

Edit: derp, you never said large.

Nope, you're right. In retrospect, the descriptions of the transformations are a bit too evocative compared to the final product so to speak. It's something that I've worked on improving for future endeavors. Still, I'm glad you enjoyed it nonetheless.

Sphore · 10-15-2013

Nicely-written! I enjoyed it.

10-11-2013	#1
Rubilax The Demon Of Carnage Join Date: Feb 2013 Location: The Land Of Beavers and Syrup Posts: 48	On July Afternoon Authors Note: Unlike my last work, this story is focused more on mental transformations than physical ones. That isn't to say that the latter isn't present, but it's definitely more subdued in terms of descriptions and proportions if you know what I mean. Dean squinted as he walked out onto his lawn. The front of his house was dominated by the multitude of colorful flowers and trees that the elderly man had spent nearly a third of his life cultivating. His lovely wife Jane had never understood his obsession with gardening, but she had helped him nonetheless, and together they had turned a barren, suburban lawn into a lush paradise. Now that she was gone, Dean was left alone to tend the prize-winning garden, which he was more than happy to spend his retirement doing. Which is why he scowled when he saw beer cans lying amongst the flowers. judging by the way they were strewn across the ground, Dean guessed that they had been thrown. But from where? he thought, as there was no one in sight. His question was answered when another can was flung over the wooden fence that surrounded his yard. The laughter and music he heard from the direction of his neighbor’s house told him all that he needed to know; His neighbors had left town for the week and left their teenage son in charge of the house. It didn’t take a genius, much less a retired English professor, to figure out that the boy was taking advantage of his parents’ absence. Now, Dean wasn’t opposed to letting boys be boys and have fun, but they had made the mistake of littering in his meticulously-groomed paradise. Dean grumbled to himself as he began gathering up the cans. He had half a mind to call up the boy’s parents right then and there, but instead Dean decided that he’d go and talk to the boy himself. After all, it could have been much worse. They could have set fire to his garden. Once he had picked up all six of the empty cans, Dean stalked back over to his house, unaware of the ancient, amorphous presence that emerged from the ground. It crept up behind the elderly man, hiding in his shadow as he entered his home. Dean’s house was old. The furniture was at least forty years past its prime, the paint was dull with age and a strong odor clung to the air. If either Dean looked closely enough, however, he would have noticed the small, almost insignificant changes that were beginning to take place as the presence enveloped both the house and its owner in its influence. The seventy year old man placed the cans on the kitchen counter so that he could open the cabinet containing the garbage can. He paused for a moment. Why was he throwing the cans in the garbage? Cans went in the recycling. Wait, since when did he recycle? He’d never been one to buy into the whole global warming sham. But if he didn’t recycle, then why was there a recycling bin next to the garbage can? Dean scratched his scalp in confusion as hair sprouted from his bald spot. No, that was right. He’d always had a recycling bin. Hell, he was the one who convince his neighbors to get one when the city started implement the program back in the 80s. He turned around to grab the cans, only to find that they weren’t empty anymore. They had been resealed, and were still bound together in the six pack rings. There were drops of condensation on them, which would make sense seeing as he had just taken them out fridge. But he didn’t like beer, he’d always preferred a glass of wine to a nice cold can of beer. "I must be getting old," Dean muttered, shrugging his shoulders as they narrowed, "Or tired. Work was brutal yesterday." His face silently sucked up the the sagging folds. Wrinkles faded away as his skin lightened with youth. For the first time in years, Dean now possessed a full head of hair, whose color was rapidly shifting from milky white to warm auburn as it began to curl down to his ears. Dean failed to notice all of this though, just as he didn't realize that the appliances in his kitchen had all been replaced by newer, cheaper models, or how the carpeted floors were hardening into wood. Years were slipping away from both the man and the house as the eldritch presence that was changing them bent reality to its whims. Dean picked up the cans in his softening hands. Now why had he taken them out? He didn't have any friends over right now. They were all with their children on this fine July afternoon. He knew that he wouldn't be the only one without children for long though, seeing as his first one was on its way. That was why he and his wife had moved out here in the first place, wasn't it? As Dean frowned, the final wrinkles vanished from his face and were replaced by a young vigor. His bushy eyebrows thinned into effeminate lines as his cheekbones became more prominent. His nose rounded and shrunk while his cheeks thickened slightly. No, that wasn't the reason why they'd moved to Suburbia. Jane had been bugging him about having a child for a while now, dropping not so subtle hints at every turn. But dammit, he wasn't ready to be a dad just yet. He wanted to pay off his school debts and get a good job before adding someone to their small family. All over Dean's body, hair began to lighten and sink back into his pores. The potbelly he had gained over the last 30 years appeared to be receding, though in reality the fat migrating towards different parts of his body. As he picked up the six pack in his increasingly dainty hands, he couldn't shake the feeling as if something was off. He could have sworn that the flats screen TV had been a lot bulkier just a few seconds ago, and the windows were a lot cleaner than they had been when he walked through the house. It felt as if something was trying to stop him from noticing something, but what and why? The presence shuddered as it felt Dean back against its power. It mentally berated itself for not having picked a younger target. Changing older creatures required a lot more effort than younger ones, and the fact that its powers were still weak from its escape didn't make it any easier for the eldritch reality bender. Snarling wordlessly to itself, it accelerated the transformation. Scratching at his shrinking chin with his free hand, Dean began to pace around the house, unaware of the slight sway in his step as his hips began to curve outwards from his narrowing waist. There was definitely something happening here, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Why had he come inside in the first place anyways? Shouldn't he be outside, enjoying the sun while it still lasted? His skin was starting to lose the tan he had gained from working out in the yard as his interests changed. While he didn't hate the outdoors, he'd never been found of all the insects that came with it. Dean had preferred the virtual world of video games to the one found outside his door. His girlfriend Jane incessantly teased him about this. He blinked, his eyes darkening into a deep brown. "That's not right," he said, "Jane's my wife, not my girlfriend." And just like that, the illusion was broken and all of the memories that had been taken from him just moments before came rushing back. He stopped in front of the mirror which he knew hadn't been there five minutes ago and gazed in horror at the androgynous figure that stared back at him. "What..." Dean squeaked, his voice rising in pitch. He was frozen in place as he lost nearly half a foot in height, his clothes shrinking to fit, and accentuate, his new proportions. His lips thickened and his hair tumbled down to his shoulders in luscious, auburn curls, framing the round face of a cute young woman barely into her twenties. Dean's ass expanded outwards, stretching the seat of the denim short to their limits as his thighs and calves thickened juicily. His stomach gurgled as fat was drained from it to fuel his growing curves. A pair of lumps poked out of his chest as breasts began to form. The cups of the black bikini top that his dress shirt had compressed into became snug as they were filled with round, perky flesh. Dean unconsciously grasped his crotch with his free, dainty hand, only to be greeted with an empty space where his, now her, cock and balls had once been. "This isn't possible!" Dean said, gazing upon her new, nubile form, "I'm..." The presence choose that moment to rewrite its victim's mind. Dozens of years worth of Memories of her wife and children, of teaching teenagers the finer points of Shakespeare, of taking care of a beautiful garden, all faded away and were replaced by those of a cute college sophomore. The house mirrored this, its decor changing into one that that would better suit its owner's new lifestyle, or rather owners'. Suddenly, she remembered why she had gone back her house; She and her two roommates had been invited by the boy next door for a day in pool while his parents were out of town. While her friends and their boyfriends jumped at the offer, Dean had hesitant up until ten minutes ago, when she said "Fuck it", turned off her PS3 and changed into proper wear for a small pool party on sunny July afternoon. Smiling, she sauntered out of the house, bouncing the beer off of one of her hips. Now, she wasn't nearly as curvy as the girls she shared her house with, but she was happy with her slightly-above average build, as it meant that men weren't as likely to stare at her like a piece of meat every time Dean decided to show a little skin. Dean? She thought, oblivious to fact that the once lush and colorful garden had withered away into a poorly maintained lawn, My name's Diana, not Dean. And with that, all traces of the retired English professor were wiped from existence, leaving behind a cute, slightly geeky girl. The eldritch presence responsible for this transformation cackled at its success as it leaped ahead of the girl, over the wooden fence, and into the neighboring yard.

10-12-2013	#2
Goldendawn 3D Comic Beginner Join Date: Oct 2006 Location: New Zealand Posts: 82	Re: On July Afternoon Wow no comments - I am a big fan of slow mental changes (as anyone who reads my stuff would know :P) so I liked it. Might have been bit better drawn out more - but I know how hard it is to keep the words flowing and not be boring (I have that problem a lot). So good work - I hope to see more of your work .... could you share a location if you put your stuff on somewhere else? __________________ Goldendawn - deviantArt: http://moonwinc.deviantart.com/ Goldendawn - Adult Creations: http://goldendawn.tfblogssite.com/

10-13-2013	#3
Quarma Sonamy, mon ami! Join Date: Dec 2009 Posts: 721	Re: On July Afternoon For the most part I enjoyed this, though I think it's a bit weird that you explained her curves as stretching, thick, juicy, perky, etc., and yet she's apparently only slightly-above-average. Edit: derp, you never said large. __________________ quarma.deviantart.com Last edited by Quarma; 10-13-2013 at 12:24 AM.

10-15-2013	#5
Sphore Frequent Poster Join Date: Jun 2008 Posts: 123	Re: On July Afternoon Nicely-written! I enjoyed it.