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Have you ever written non-erotic literature? I really like reading your stories, obviously because they’re pretty hot, but even if I don’t find the transformation particularly hot ( like in The Proffesors Club) all your stories are really fun to read. Keep it up!!

I do have some stuff I’ve written which is outside of erotica, but I enjoy doing this more (plus it helps pay the bills). Thanks for reading, I’ll keep it up for as long as I have time and energy.

Have you ever done anything involving clowns? Any general thoughts on clowns in the transformation or mind control setting?

I have never done a clown TF story before, and to be honest, I don’t understand it particularly well. This is, in part, because I don’t know much about clowning, which for all of it’s buffoonery, is actually a very complex pantomime and routine, with particular characters and plots. I simply am not well enough versed in it to understand it particularly well, but I can certainly take a (most likely wrong) attempt at rationalizing it.

I think part of the problem is that a “clown transformation” doesn’t fit neatly into either half of the MC/TF genre. In this sense, I would probably classify them as a “class TF” (in the same category as rednecks, most racial transformations, business suits, etc.). I also think that, like many class TF’s, a clown TF can have both negative and positive connotations, so I’m actually going to split my analysis in that way.

Looked at positively, it requires a certain understanding of clown characters. I think that, or at least in the stuff I’ve read, the clowns which are viewed most positively are the Augustine variety (you know the “hobo clown”? Those ones). They are, really, a strange mix of character traits–stereotypically they are not particularly bright, but they are at heart anarchists–characters who rebel against power and usurp it. One trope of clowning acts is a Whiteface clown commanding an Augustine to do some task, and either on purpose or accidentally, the Augustine makes a comical mess of things. Being turned into a clown is, in a way, giving that character a persona, someone unbound by the rules of society, who operates in a different way, and who is free from many of the rules that someone might feel oppressing them. 

Negatively, I would say that a clown TF slots in very easily with a lot of humiliation triggers. There’s the muteness of the character, the fact that they are openly ridiculed, that they are clumsy and dumb and lack self-control. 

Now, here’s the aspect that I don’t particularly understand myself. I personally don’t find any of the above very erotic, and when I try to figure out, I usually just shrug and move on. I’m not even sure that clown TF’s necessarily need to be erotic to be effective, but I think that’s just me not getting it. So, this is my best guess–take it or leave it.

When the hedge fund came to take over the factory, it was billed as something which would be good for the entire community. Of course, nine months later, when all of the workers showed up for work only to discover that they had been locked out and the factory closed down, there was an uproar, but Phillip didn’t give a shit about that. He celebrated with a cigar as the fund took all of the company’s assets, including the worker’s pensions, and used it to give themselves all huge–and in their minds–well deserved bonuses.

It was a couple months later when the group of men stormed into his mansion. They called themselves the Personal Hedge Fund, and after subduing Phillip with a special drug, which left him completely open to their suggestions, he gave them complete control over his personal finances and all of his property, allowing them to completely empty his accounts and sell off all of his property, but he soon discovered that the PHF wasn’t done there–they weren’t done my a long shot.

What followed was months of mental programming. Forcing him to speak in an uneducated accent, giving him tattoos all over his body, including some on his neck and wrists that he couldn’t hide. And then, when they were satisfied, they dumped him in a trailer park not too far from the now run down factory he and his friends had ruined, and left him there, laughing all the way to the bank, and Phillip soon discovered that the other trailers were all occupied by his old co-workers–but the PHF had taken over and ruined their lives too. They soon discovered what it truly meant to be poor, in a place with no economy, and they spent the rest of their lives living in the trailers, while the PHF gave all of their wealth to the men and women whose lives they had ruined.

how much are you attracted to farts?

In real life? Eh, pretty neutral.

In stories, they’re handy because, as a trigger, they can push a lot of different buttons. Obviously there’s the smell of them, which works for “raunch/musk”, but the uncontrollably of them can give imply a certain “loss of control/incontinence” without having to get into anything messy. In addition to that, the act of farting implies either crudity (if the person enjoys/flaunts it) which supports a “redneck/lout TF” or they can be embarrassing, which triggers “Humiliation.” They’re just versatile more than anything.

The Professor’s Club Part 2

Commissioned by Anonymous

Luis sauntered through the living room, taking a look at the well preserved and displayed antiques throughout, and wondered what sort of family the professor came from that he’d been left all of this stuff. He’d always seemed like a nice man but never particularly rich–it was a bit of a puzzle, in fact.

Luis liked puzzles–he was good at puzzles–and this one was just something new for him to figure out. He’d been initially perplexed by the professor’s invitation, and even more perplexed when he’d arrived at the same time as Derrick. Of course, Derrick and Luis had never spoken to one another, but with a glance, Luis had been able to deduce a bit about him–football jock, not particularly smart, business or maybe an economics major, and definitely gay–though he did a good job hiding it. Luis smiled–he kind of wondered what Derrick might smell like after a practice–he’d always had a thing for guys getting a bit musky before fucking.

Still, why in the world had the professor brought them together? It couldn’t be just the fact that they were gay, could it? That seemed unlikely, but not impossible. The professor had implied that there would be more people coming at some point, but who? He didn’t have enough information to deduce anything substantial, really, but that didn’t stop his mind from trying as hard as it could to find some sort of answer. The air felt stuffy all of a sudden–he wanted to get out of the house. He passed into the next room, saw a set of double doors open to the outside garden the professor had mentioned, and stepped through them out onto a large, expansive garden behind the manor.

Expansive was the word that came to mind–the garden was as large as some parks Luis had seen as a kid. It was bigger than the footprint of a few of the buildings on campus. Towards the back, he even saw a large hedge maze–he’d have started out that way, but he didn’t want to miss dinner if he got lost–though he doubted he would. Still, it felt nice outside–better than in the stuffy manor, and he decided to wander a bit down the gravel and stone paths between the beds of flowers, bushes and trees just beginning to turn color. It was the beginning of fall, but the beds were still dominated by flowers, and many of the beds he passed gave off a variety of heady scents, however, he reached one which he found to be less than pleasant–in fact, it was outright disgusting, when he first smelled it. Curious as to what it could be, he walked over to the scraggly plant of yellow blooms and saw a small plaque labelling it “Skunkweed.”

Now that he was this close to it though, it didn’t actually smell too bad. In fact, it was musky…the kind of musky he liked. He leaned over a bit further to smell one of the blossoms, and the scent was so strong that he got dizzy, and tumbled forward into the bed of flowers. The smell which had been enticing at first was suddenly overwhelming him, and he coughed and gagged on the ground, pushing himself back up and stumbling out of the bed, his eyes watering from the stench, but he couldn’t get a clear breath of air. He stumbled off a few yards, and he realized the smell was following him, it was on him, it was in him, it was everywhere. He knelt down, trying to breathe normally and get a hold of himself. Sure, it stank, it was one of the worst things he’d ever smelled, but it wasn’t that bad, he was getting used to it. Yeah, it wasn’t really that bad at all, really, in fact…in fact, it smelled kind of good, so good…he was getting kind of…horny?

Luis realized his cock was rock hard in his jeans, and lust was starting to course through him, but it was the dirty thoughts that started worming their way into his mind that terrified him the most. Sure, he’d had a few odd fetishes that he liked to indulge in on occasion, but it was like the room in his mind where he’d always hidden them had had the door ripped off it’s hinges letting them all free–they were all he could think about. He tried to calm down, but now his arms were starting to itch, and he realized he didn’t know the first thing about the plant he’d fallen into. No one would grow a poisonous plant in a garden, would they? That was crazy, but was he having some sort of allergic reaction to it then? The itch, while it started on his arms, didn’t end there though–it was actually working it’s way all over his body–even under his clothes, where there was no way the plant had touched him, so then what was going on?

He scratched a bit, but as he watched, he saw something strange was happening, that his perfectly smooth arms were getting bumpy, and then a massive number of small black hairs erupted out all over his arms. He could feel them under his shirt, on his chest too, and in a panic he ripped off his shirt and watched as his smooth, slim body grew furry all over. He ran his hands through it, feeling the dingy, greasy texture of the fur and shivered, letting out a soft moan. His hands hurt for a few moments, and he saw that they had changed as well, his fingers shortening, and a black claw topping each of them, replacing his nails.

What was happening to him? He remembered passing a still pond as he’d walked down the path and he hurried back the way he’d come, pausing once to rip away the remains of his shoes as his feet–now long, wide paws, burst through the converse he’d been wearing. He reached the edge of the pool and knelt over it, just in time to see the fur cover his entire face, his nose and mouth pushing out into a short snout tipped with a pink nose. A shock of pure white rippled through his hair, and he felt it shoot down his back in a stripe as a thickly furred tail erupted out above his ass, the white shooting down it all the way to the tip.

A skunk–he’d turned into a giant skunkman, and he stood up, looking down at himself. His slim figure had disappeared in the midst of the transformation, and he now had a pudgy gut and heavy moobs and he smelled so fucking good! He lifted one arm, shoved his new snout into the fur there and took a deep whiff of his own stink, feeling his cock throb as it pushed out of his sheath, the shaft hard and red. He was so dirty, so fucking dirty, it was so hot. But dirtier–he wanted to get even dirtier. How could he get dirtier?

Licking his lips with his tongue, feeling the sharp fangs in his mouth, he laid back on the dusty path, his hard cock jutting out over him, and he let loose with a torrent of piss, soaking down his grimy fur everywhere he could get it, spraying down his face and tail, licking it from his lips as he did. It felt so good to be dirty, to stink and reek and just enjoy himself. He’d bound himself up for too long, but there was so much he wanted to do, so much dirty stuff he’d only thought about, but that he’d never imagined doing. He was enjoying himself so much, rolling around in the dust, feeling it stick in his fur, that he didn’t see the man come down the path until he was only a few yards, away, and when he saw them, fear and embarrassment cut through him, and he stood up.

He knew him from school–his name was Kevin, he remembered, and he was cute. He’d seen him around campus, and had stalked him online to learn a bit more about him, and the two of them had developed a casual acquaintance, but he couldn’t see him like this, not like this. He turned and ran off deeper into the garden, and Kevin gave chase, shouting, “Luis! No, wait!”

Luis kept going for a few paces, and then stopped. Kevin knew who he was–but how? He didn’t look anything like how he’d looked, but that meant…

“You–what did you do to me? Did you know this was going to happen?” Luis said, turning around and facing his friend.

“No! No, it wasn’t me, look…let me explain, alright? It’s…a bit complicated. Here, let me show you.” Kevin closed his eyes and concentrated, and started to change right in front of Luis’ eyes, changing from his normal self into some strange creature, something between what looked like a dog and a dragon, and a few seconds later, when Luis was able to actually grapple with what he was seeing, he realized something else–Kevin was…really sexy like that. Sexy, but not…not dirty enough. Not dirty enough at all. Luis grinned and started walking towards Kevin, and a bit unnerved, Kevin backed up. He knew Luis a little, but damn did he stink now. It was hard to even get close to him. He was cute from a distance, but Kevin didn’t know if he’d be able to stomach sex with him.

“Kevin…did I ever tell you how fucking hot I thought you are? Stop…stop backing up, I’m so horny man, so fucking horny.”

“Luis, I’m sorry, but you–it’s just too much,” Kevin said, holding his nose, “What the hell happened to you?”

Luis, however, was in no mood to talk. He wanted to fuck–it was the only thing his mind could focus on, but Kevin was moving away from him, he needed to bring him in, bring him closer, get him to see how amazing it could be to be dirty, and then Luis knew what might work. Before Kevin could react, Luis spun around, bent over and sprayed him with his stink, and it coated him with an oily sheen, making him cough and wheeze as he fought against it.

Kevin couldn’t see, he could barely breathe, and he stumbled back a few paces, but already the smell wasn’t so bad, already it was…it was making him hornier, and he snorted out a few plumes of smoke. Horny, and…and dirty. The smell intensified, Luis coming close and pulling him into a kiss, it no longer disgusted or repulsed him, and he leaned in, dirtier and dirtier urges coming to him, and before he even really realized it, he was pissing all over Luis, and then shoved the skunk down, blasting him in the face with the stream while the skunk drank it down and then started sucking him off, but that wasn’t enough for Kevin, not right now, not in the thick of Luis’ stench.

He pushed Luis over onto all fours and then got down and rimmed the skunks crack for a few moments, the musk there intense and overwhelming, almost greasy and sweaty on the air, and then he was fucking Luis’ hole, grunting and belching smoke and flame as he did, Luis encouraging him, and pushing him onward. Kevin had only come out to tell Luis that dinner was ready, but all he could focus on at the moment was how good it felt to be balls deep in Luis’ stinking hole. Dinner could wait for bit–sometimes a nasty fuck was more important.

It isn’t an easy job, trust me–we get some very troubled kids who come to our camp. Sometimes they’re sponsored because they’ve been expelled from their schools, other kids have gotten into trouble with the law or ran away from home, but we have a very high success rate for turning what many see as hopeless delinquents into productive young men ready to be reintroduced to society. My methods, I admit, can seem extreme, but they do work–the extensive hypnosis, the meditation sessions, the affirmation group therapy seems like a bunch of hogwash, but my methods work, and seeing it work is its own reward, well, that and the occasional prize I keep for myself.

This summer, it was Brad. Brad came to us from a severely broken home, and he was falling very far behind in school, generally slipping through the cracks from year to year, occasionally getting held back. At the age of nineteen, he was still a sophomore in high school, and this camp was widely regarded as his last chance. When I had my first counseling session with him, he barely trusted me, but some induced hypnosis cleared that up relatively quickly, and I realized we had a much more difficult case on our hands than I’d thought. A history of abuse from his father, and severe dyslexia had left Brad essentially illiterate–no wonder he was struggling. But he was so sweet, really, and wanted a daddy to love him so badly, how could I resist?

It started slowly, convincing him to start wetting his sleeping bag, and the camp began requiring him to wear diapers at night, something he found himself not protesting at all. After a few more subtle accidents during the day, I had him wearing them all the time, and before too long he didn’t even want to take them off–he couldn’t take them off actually, only a certified daddy like me could change his dirty diapers for him. Wearing a diaper helped him feel safe and confident, and reminded him of his daddy, of how good it felt to be wrapped up in daddy’s arms, with daddy’s cock up his ass. He was like putty in my hands, and so, since he was nineteen, he came home with me at the end of summer, instead of to the foster care system.

Well, the good news is that Brad has made a complete turn around. He’s all set to graduate this year, and has already caught up with this year’s seniors with my tutoring and hypnosis. Of course, he’ll be coming to study at the local college where I teach, and working as a counselor with me at the camp during the summer. Having a little boy around is so hot, I think we’ll try to find him a brother this summer as well.