ObjectLife

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You awaken fitfully, your head a little aching, and still feel like you barely got any rest at all. Only the incessant blaring of your alarm clock finally nudges you out of bed, and you slam it silent roughly. Then, you feel slightly bad for doing so. After all, you might end up one of those things today. You rub your face, and get up to brush your teeth. It feels a little pointless, but it helps you feel human for as long as you still can. As you brush, you look sullenly in the mirror, your fate as plain as the nose on your face. All across your forehead, cheeks and nose, is a glowing arcane sigil. Each day for a year, it has gotten bigger and bigger, the light shining through it becoming more forceful and dangerous. Today is your last day. At sundown today, you will be killed by this curse, unless you give it a new outlet. Unless you let it turn you into a living, sentient object forever. When the Rift came, and brought fantasy elements to the world, you had thought that the orcs and goblins had it bad. Transformed from their normal lives into creatures from myth. You would never have thought the worst possible fate could end up hitting you; the Enchantment. The Rift seemed to slowly add more and more elements from fantasy into reality, and recently one of those had been enchanted objects. Talking swords from myth, living pools of sacred water. Like with every other change, it got these by changing humans to fit. Except you won't be a talking sword. If you're unlucky, you might even be a talking toilet. In your room you can put it off, but as soon as you go out there, you're going to find yourself drawn to a normal, everyday object. Slowly pulled into it, until it becomes your whole life. Oh well. You can't put it off much longer. [[Your Room]] <<set $endingsseen to 0>> <<set $fursuit to 0>>

Your room is looking pretty empty these days. There was no point keeping much, with your due date so close. You've given most of it away, and there's just a bed, desk, laptop, and a few changes of clothes and toiletries. It looks more like a hotel stay than an actual person's place. You suppose, however, that you're not going to be an 'actual person' for long. Your laptop is open, bookmarked to a forum for support and advice for enchanted item people. [[Check the forum]] [[Check your messages]] [[Try to get dressed]] [[Head outside|Hallway]]

[[Sticky: The Basics]] [[Tips on what item to pick]] [[tfw you find out ur enchanted]] [[Living items???]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

The hallway to your flat is pretty boring. The [[carpet]] is dusty and hasn't been vacuumed properly, but that's not surprising. Both your flatmates aren't the best at housekeeping. There's a map on the wall of some fantasy kingdom that Pete hung up, but otherwise the only thing to do here is move between rooms. [[Your Room]] [[Pete's Room]] [[Shank's Room]] [[Bathroom]] [[Downstairs|Kitchen/Living Room]]

(MOD: So, you've found out you're enchanted. Ok, so first thing, tough break. We know how hard this is. Not many people are going to be thrilled about spending their whole lives as someone's property. But we gotta play the cards we're dealt.) (MOD: If it makes you feel any better, it seems like once you become an object, it feels good. You don't get bored or miss being able to move or anything. So that's something.) (MOD: You can put off the change for a while, but everyone has a due date. You'll know it instinctively. If you try to resist past that, you'll get forced into being something at random, which isn't good. Bite the bullet and pick something you won't mind being.) (MOD: You'll start to feel a sort of pull or connection to objects around you. If you let it happen, you'll become that kind of object. If you resist, you can delay a bit longer. But it gets harder the more you resist.) (MOD: Being an object isn't all bad. You'll often have special properties; you are a magic item after all. I'm a laptop, and I can still shitpost. So all in all, my life didn't change that much.) (MOD: Good luck.) [[Check the forum]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

(DonWannaBeMyselfNoMore: k so ive decided to just fuck it and pick something. the wait is killing me. any tips on what i should go for?) (pissanddesist: public toilet) (TurboButton: Ignore him. You don't want to be anything publically owned, it sucks. Having an owner is the best. Go for something electronic.) (pissanddesist: private toilet?) (xoCuddlesxo: Turbo is right, being owned feels really good o3o Public items are really missing out. Find someone you trust and be theirs!!!) (fill_me: just dont pick anything disposable. had a guy in me that was a six pack of beer. was a good mate but each time he got drank a little less of him came back on his respawn. now all he talks about is beer stuff) (TurboButton: What the fuck is beer stuff?) (fill_me: like a beer snob but a million times worse because hes the beer) (pissanddesist: ive had beer in me too if you know what i mean) (fill_me: we know what you mean. i curse your owners name every day for hooking up his fucking toilet to the internet) (DonWannaBeMyselfNoMore: i think im gonna be public toilet paper lol) (pissanddesist: wicked) [[Check the forum]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

It's just a photo of a trash can with a lever lid, hanging open. It has a lot of "lol" replies. [[Check the forum]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

(close2me: do I have 2 be an inanimate object? could i be like...attached to someone?) (MDK: ??? like armor or something?) (close2me: like their dick. i wanna be my crush's cock lol) (xoCuddlesxo: I've heard of that!! It doesnt work 4 everyone but my owner talked about a friend of hers who knows a guy that turned into like, his girlfriends heart for the surgery she needed!!! SOOOOO romantic!) (MDK: thats just a stupid copypasta you fell for because your brain is cotton wool) (MDK: dont be a tool. be a TOOL. im a sword) (close2me: im gonna be a sword too xoxoxo) (MDK: i hope we clash on the battlefield) (close2me: no lol like a metaforical sword im gonna be chances cock cross ur fingers 4 me guys) (MDK: you have no honour) [[Check the forum]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

You hear the clanking of metal as you walk into Pete's room. He's lying back on a bench, lifting weights. Not an unusual sight; he wakes up earlier than the other members of the house and spends a lot of time honing his muscles. His room is usually the neatest out of the three of you, though at the moment you're taking that crown by sole dint of not owning anything anymore. His bed is neatly folded and his belongings are organised and pushed up against the wall. Lots of exercise equipment, and a few weapons. Though he does have a whole bookcase of music CDs, which were a bit of an outdated concept even before the Rift. The massive music system he uses them on is next to it, pristinely clean. He puts his weights down and wipes his head as he sees you enter. [[Look at Pete]] [[Talk to Pete]] [[Hallway]]

As soon as you walk into Shank's room, you are assaulted by a mix of sweaty unwashed body odour, and leftover weed stink. Shank's room looks like a rat's nest. Crumpled clothes are lying everywhere, the walls are plasted with overlapping posters, and the floor is hidden beneath plates, wires and other assorted messes. Shank himself is sitting in an oversized beanbag chair, playing some game on his flatscreen TV. As you watch, there's a loud explosion and it yells MULTI KILL. He gives you a fanged grin. [[Look at Shank]] [[Talk to Shank]] [[Hallway]]

This feels like a very dangerous place to come, considering your condition. The bathroom is decently clean, for one shared by three bachelors. Pete likes to keep it wiped down since he finds it pretty gross to have a dirty bathroom. Pete's toothbrush is on the windowsill, along with his shampoo and soap. The soap itself is "Green Night: For Orcs With Pride". Under the window, there's a heated towel rack, that Pete's [[towel]] is drying on. Other than that there's only the [[toilet]] and combination bath and shower. [[Hallway]]

Oh no, you can feel it. That tugging and pulling, trying to draw you down onto the floor. Into being soft and warm, comforting the feet of your owners. Forgotten and unnoticed and stepped on... Is this it? Are you going to succumb so soon? [[Fight it off|Hallway]] [[Become carpet]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

You find yourself dropping to your knees, and stroking your hands across the fibres of the carpet. So soft, and a little dusty. You lay down atop it, feeling the material against your bare skin. This feels so relaxing. Just laying down, spreading out. Being something simple, something soft. Your body starts to flatten, while it stretches gradually across the hallway. Your mind drifts to thoughts of your flatmates using you, walking on you. Their bare feet pressing down on your fibres, their scent soaking into you. It would be so good to be used like that, to serve a purpose. As you flatten and spread out, your back becomes fluffy and fibrous, like you're growing a pelt of soft fur. You sigh, flattening more, covering the floor completely with your protective soft body. Why were you resisting this so long? It feels so right to be here, underfoot. You feel your edges touching up against your friends' rooms, as your body becomes a thick, extra-plush white carpet covering the entire upper floor. [[Being a carpet]]

Nervously, you glance to the item that was most worrying you - the toilet, standing completely normally and innocuously against the wall next to the sink. Just as you feared, you feel that tugging, pulling sensation, drawing you over to an embarrassing fate. [[Fight it off|Bathroom]] [[Become the flat's toilet]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

<<if $fursuit == 0>> It took you a while to even remember you were only wearing a shirt and underpants. Another symptom of the enchantment getting stronger. Something about wearing clothes just doesn't occur to you anymore, as you become bit by bit more of an object. You spend a few minutes trying to put on some more clothes, but it just feels wrong. You sigh eventually, and remain with what you've got. It won't be long until you can't even manage to wear anything at all. It's probably not worth trying to do this again. <<elseif $fursuit < 3>> You still don't seem to be able to put on clothes. Trying to is making your head feel kind of weird. <<else>> You feel a weird pulsing in your head as you think about clothing. About being worn, being fabric. Being [[something your friends could wear...|Fursuit]] <</if>> [[Your Room]] <<set $fursuit to $fursuit+1>>

As you look at Pete's huge fluffy towel, you feel a tugging and pulling sensation, drawing you towards it. The thought of drying his muscular body throbs in your head. [[Fight it off|Bathroom]] [[Become towel]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

It's hard to remember Shank how he used to be. Before the Rift, he was a shy, quiet nerd called Steven. He was neat and tidy, and studied constantly. The Rift goblinized Steven, and his personality shifted drastically. Now he's a four-foot tall green monster. His skin is smooth and slightly speckled with green and brown, and he has enormous pointed ears that stick out from the sides of his head like radar dishes. His teeth are sharklike fangs, and his hands and feet have pointy claws on them, as well as having grown larger in proportion to his small body. He's wearing a purple hoodie and some cargo shorts, but his feet are bare. Since he became a goblin, he threw away all concepts of personal hygeine and tidiness. He dropped out of college and now just smokes pot and plays games, when he's not hanging out with other foul-smelling goblins. Oddly, even once he changed, he still felt like your same old friend to you. The Rift had odd effects sometimes. He notices you staring, and wiggles his bare feet. "Come to be mine, bro? You can take a closer look if you want." [[Look closer at Shank]] [[Talk to Shank]]

[[Tell Shank about your situation]] [[Ask Shank for advice]] [[Ask if you can look through Shank's things for something to become]] [[Shank's Room]]

Pete looks so different now than he did before the Rift. The guy that was once a very overweight stoner with asthma, now a seven foot tall green muscle god. The Rift made Pete into an orc, and he took to it like a fish to water. He didn't even get the muscles for free. The day he woke up green, he still had the huge belly. The change inspired him though, and he started giving up his pot and hitting the weights. He sculpted every one of those glistening green muscles himself, and he is very proud of it. You're not sure whether the army-like discipline in his personality was part of him turning over a new leaf, or just an orc thing. But it's good to see how happy he is. He's only wearing a pair of jogging pants at the moment, so his bulging, ripped chest is bare. His dark green skin is shiny with sweat, particularly his enormous feet. His face is handsome and masculine, with a powerful jaw that boasts the orc's signature tusks. His are huge, curving out and up like a wild boar's. His ears are pointed, and his hair is pulled back into dreadlocks, but you can still see a hint of his old human self in his new face. He smiles as he sees you staring. "If you wanted to be part of me, I wouldn't mind, bud. You know I look after my body." [[Ask to see Pete's cock]] [[Back|Pete's Room]]

[[Tell Pete about your situation]] [[Ask Pete for advice]] [[Ask if you can look through Pete's things for something to become]] [[Pete's Room]]

The downstairs area of your shared flat is a large open-plan area combining both living area and kitchen, with one side tiled and set up with appliances, while the rest is carpeted and arranged comfortably with couches, a coffee table and the big TV - along with some mess that is obviously the fault of Shanks. There is an unwelcome surprise here though. Sitting at the couch, his boots up on your coffee table, is an absurdly over-muscled minotaur clad in an intimidating black and yellow enforcer's uniform, his bearded face stretched into a familiar snarl of arrogant contempt. Aleki. Your ex boyfriend. [[Look at Aleki]] [[Talk to Aleki]] [[Return upstairs|Hallway]] <<if $endingsseen > 9>> You look carefully at Aleki. He's pretending not to care, but he's on edge. You've known him long enough to tell. Why would he be sent to check on you? No one on the forums said anything about having to deal with Enforcers. What if you're not an object? You could become one, accept that, sure. But what if you're something else? Something that just LOOKS like an object? [[Something like...]] <</if>>

You haven't seen Aleki in years, and somehow he's gotten even bigger and more intimidating in that time. Seven feet tall, not including the horns. His bovine face still had a humanoid aspect to it, with expressive eyebrows and a mouth that was capable of smiling or emoting in ways an actual bull couldn't. Mostly, that was a self-satisfied smirk, or a condescending glare. A darker shade of black fur around his cheeks and chin looked almost like a beard. Your ex boyfriend was kind of a jerk even before he turned into a minotaur. He was controlling and arrogant, and you get the feeling he hasn't changed much at all. As for the rest of him, it's all muscle. He is literally beef, after all. His arms are gigantic, on wide shoulders that make him look like a battering ram. You can't see it under his black and yellow uniform, but you know he's sculpted like a marble statue under there, beneath the brown fur that coats his body. He hasn't taken his black boots off, even while he's sitting at your table. He sips a little of his coffee, and smirks at you. "Admiring what you can't have? Just thought I'd drop in and make sure you weren't becoming something stupid. If you want to be part of me I'd allow it." His tufted tail flicks, a tell he's had ever since he changed, that shows when he's amused. [[Back|Kitchen/Living Room]]

[[What are you doing here?]] [[Tell Aleki about your situation]] [[Ask Aleki for advice]] [[Start looking through the room for something to turn into]] [[Kitchen/Living Room]]

"Sucks to be you, huh?", Shank says with a grin. That does pretty much sum it up. "When I got changed it felt really weird at first. Everyone acts like I've been replaced by some totally new person. You should see how my dad fuckin' freaked out. He's like, a fuckin' elf, and he's got a dirty gob for a son." Shank shrugs, and scratches behind his ear. "But honestly man? I feel like this is the real me. Like the rift just like, broke through all this dumb shit that was holding me back. You may not believe me but I like what I am now and I don't think the rift actually changed my brain. It just set me free. Maybe you'll find it isn't so bad for you either." You are surprised to see Shank being so philosophical. He grins and sticks his tongue out at you. "So what I'm saying is, turn into a [[fleshlight]] for me so I can pound your face and ass for the rest of my life." That's more what you expect from him. [[Talk to Shank]]

"You want me to tell you what to turn into?" Shanks grins. He then recites off, in intense and X-rated detail, all of his favourite sex toys and peripherals. With explicit mention of how much he'd love to leave you sticky and used on his bedroom floor. By the time he finishes discussing the exact texture and feeling he wants you to have as his fleshlight, he's tenting his pants and his green skin is flushed with pink. He takes a breath, and fondles himself. "I mean, that or maybe you could be my [[game controller]] or something. I love games almost as much as I love myself." [[Talk to Shank]]

Shank looks around at his filthy room, the clothes everywhere, the mess and stink and filth. He grins. "Wow, yeah sure if this is actually where you want to live dude." He makes a good point. Still, you poke around very carefully, pushing aside his clothes with your foot, looking at his posters and gaming peripherals. You step on something damp, and look down. It's a single odd sock. That's strange, Shank doesn't wear [[socks]]. [[Talk to Shank]]

Pete listens with polite concern to your woes and feelings about the situation. His huge green hand touches your shoulder comfortingly, and you feel the heat from his musclebound body as he gets closer. "I'm sorry, my friend. It's a difficult duty you are resigned to. All I can say is, if you wish to become mine, I will treat you with dignity and respect. Even as an item, you are my friend." His voice is deep and formal. Many orcs are like that, serious and honour-bound. It does make you feel a little better, though. "For me, becoming an orc unlocked something inside me I didn't know about. Like a dam being broken. I hope that perhaps for you it will be similar, and you will find some joy in this situation." [[Back|Pete's Room]]

"You wish me to suggest something for you to become?" Pete thinks carefully, stroking his heavy chin as he weighs the situation with gravitas. "You should become something that serves a useful purpose, I think. That is what I would do in your place. I think perhaps that would let you feel more in control, more of use to society." "Perhaps a public good, even if not an extravagant one. A bench or stoplight. Failing that, if you want to be more owned..." A guilty look comes over his face. "Well, I hate to sound selfish. But since becoming an orc I've had an odd desire for a [[family weapon]]. Something I could pass down my tribe to my descendants. For that to also be a dear friend would make me very happy. So long, of course, as you also wished for that." [[Back|Pete's Room]]

"Of course my friend, everything I have is yours for consideration. We will join as one, your life to mine", he says with absolute sincerity. It's hard to get used to how orcs talk, but every one you have met is like this. There's not a lot to see that you didn't see the moment you stepped in. Pete's room is fastidiously neat and obsessively well cared for. You can at least be assured you'll be treated better with an orc than almost any other owner you could choose. You glance over his bed, the racks of weights and equipment, the heavy rubber [[grappling dummy]] he uses to practice wrestling moves, and his neatly-folded [[clothing]] on the shelf. [[Back|Pete's Room]]

Aleki barely listens as you talk about your feelings and worries about the situation. Eventually he yawns, his massive bovine snout stretching wide. "Is bitching about it going to help anything? Just pick something already and turn into it. If you keep putting this off I'll just make the decision for you. I'm authorised for that, you know." He grins nastily, and taps the symbol painted on the plastic-like armor plate on his chest. Enforcer. Aleki, being a power-hungry asshole, was a perfect fit for the new brand of mercenaries charged with dealing with fantastical crime situations. He puts his enormous [[boots]] up on your coffee table, the thick rubber soles covered in dirt. [[Back|Kitchen/Living Room]]

Aleki snorts, his ears twitching. "Really? You're asking me for advice? You never listened to it before." He folds his enormous arms, and looks down at you with an arrogant smirk. "I'll tell you what to be, sure. But beg for it. And no going back. We'll do this like we should have done when we were together, where I tell you what to do and you just do it. You know I was always right about everything." He chuckles, and shakes his head, flexing his neck. "Hell, if you'd just lived the way I told you to, maybe you'd have been an awesome minotaur with me when the Rift came, rather than where you've actually ended up." Most of you, say 99% of you, riles up at his taunting. But there is a very tiny, object-brained part of you that twitches with arousal at his behaviour. [[Beg him to tell you what to be]] [[Back|Kitchen/Living Room]]

On second thought, there is nothing to be gained from talking to that jerk. He can stew for a while while you look around. Disappointingly though there's not a lot that seems to draw your senses. Apparently whatever rules this works on, your body doesn't want to be the fridge, microwave or even the TV. You do feel something though, and you look around and try to pinpoint it until you see the [[box of donuts]] sitting on the table next to Aleki. [[Back|Kitchen/Living Room]]

His eyes narrow in a malevolent smirk of amusement, his teeth grinding. "About time. I guess some time apart reminded you how good you could have had it, you little loser. Well, you were an asshole before, so I have decided that's what you should be." He turns around, his tail raising, and pats his gigantic rump. You see the curves of it through his glossy uniform. "Turn into my black asshole, loser. Eat my shit every day and live under me like you deserve." [[Become Aleki's asshole]] [[Ignore his obvious provocation and think of something else|Kitchen/Living Room]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

Before your change, you would have thought being stuck to the ground, unable to move, would be boring and frustrating. Now that you're a carpet, boredom doesn't seem to exist. You are filled with a sort of constant contentment and pleasure, and time passes easily without any discomfort or worry. Pete is the first one to notice you. He finishes his morning exercise, and walks out into the hall. His huge green feet are bare, and his toes sink into your thick, comfortable fibres. You can taste the salty sweat on his powerful soles, and feel his feet pressing down onto you. Just existing as a carpet had felt amazing, but actually being walked on is a whole level beyond that. His every step is orgasmically pleasurable, filling your body with warmth and intensity, while your mind hums with the joy of being used, being useful. He looks down at you curiously, then opens the door to what used to be your room. After a moment, he leans down and strokes his meaty hand across your fibres. Fuck, it feels so good! "Is that you?", he asks. Many enchanted items can talk, but in this state you feel no desire to. You want to be underfoot, insignificant, ordinary. You just send a psychic thrum of contentment up through Pete's feet, and he shudders a little as he feels it. "Woah. This will take some getting used to." He walks over to Shanks room, and you faintly hear them talking, but it doesn't seem important. After a moment, they walk out, and Shank's feet press down on you too. The soles of his goblin claws are filthy and stained, and the intense taste and stink of them flows through you. It should be disgusting, but it just feels different, interesting. He clenches his toes, his claws stroking along you, and you shudder with delight. For the next few weeks, they talk to you and pat you, still treating you like a person. With subtle nudges and prods, you make it clear you are just a carpet, and want to be treated as such. So the talking fades, and you are simply stepped on, walked on, vacuumed. Just a part of the house. It feels wonderful.

Your body suddenly throbs with incredible sensitivity, to the point that you are forced to rip off your remaining clothes and toss them aside as your skin becomes too tender to touch them. The sensitivity flows up and down your skin, then changes to a sensation of tingly, pins-and-needles prickling. When you look down at your naked body, you see thick, soft hairs appearing all over you. They are fluffy and white, and when you reach down to your belly and feel the fuzzy pelt of white fuzz, you realise it feels like a soft, fresh towel. Your whole body is rapidly covered by this fluffy furry coat, and you shiver in pleasure when you stroke your fingers through the fluff. You find yourself thinking of being pressed against someone's naked body, your soft fabric squishing against them, soaking up all moisture, making them warm and dry and comfortable. Your knees shake with the feelings of pleasure that thought fills you with, and then you fall to the ground. Your limbs feel soft and floppy, your insides feeling empty. You find yourself flattening out with a strange sensation of being compressed, as if you're a toothpaste tube being flattened from bottom to top. You wriggle and flop slightly as you are squished down to a mere long rectangle of fuzzy fabric, your limbs squished into your torso, your body fluffy and light and warm. With a last moan, your face merges into the material, and you wiggle one more time before flopping helplessly on the bathroom floor. As you slowly calm down, and take in your floor-level viewpoint as nothing but a thick piece of soft fabric on the floor, it finally dawns on you that this is your life now. You really are a towel. [[Life as a towel]]

The pulling sensation starts to grow as you look over Shank's body. He looks up at you curiously, a bit of a smile on his face, as he feels the connection too. [[Shank's feet]] are bare, as always. The soles are stained black with dirt, since he never wears shoes and rarely bathes. Unlike orc feet, which are very similar to human ones apart from their green skin, goblin feet are clawed and have only three longer toes. With the green skin they would look almost lizardlike, if not for being soft skin instead of scales. The rest of his body is just a little over four feet tall, and all of his skin is that same shade of mossy green. He's wearing a pair of cargo shorts and a black t-shirt that's crusty and stained at the hem. His head is hairless, with two huge pointy green ears, a bulbous nose, and a wide mouth filled with sharklike teeth. [[Talk to Shank]]

You feel the pulling sensation as you look at Shank's stubby green feet. The faint taste of his dirty soles lingers in the back of your throat, and the smell of his sweaty unwashed goblin body grows stronger. Being your goblin flatmate's dirty foot? The idea is humiliating. Yet the call grows stronger in your head... [[Become Shank's foot]] [[Fight it off|Shank's Room]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

You gasp, sweat dripping down your face as the connection is set permanently. Shank shudders, his pants visibly tenting, as the rush of magic tingles through his body. He flexes and wiggles his toes curiously. "Dude...my foot? You're seriously going to be my foot?", he asks, incredulous. You blush, but the shame and mixed feelings that you had about your change seem to be getting quieter and quieter in your head. When you breathe in, you smell his sweaty, unwashed musk. You can taste the grime and dirt of his sole on your tongue. Before, you would have considered that nasty and weird, but now it feels strangely calming and pleasurable. Your skin starts to feel hot and sensitive, and so you quickly pull off your clothes, then lay down on the floor near Shank. He lifts his right foot, and presses it against your back. For a moment that rush of connection grows again, making you both shudder. Then, his foot slowly sinks into your back, merging with your body. You feel his body connect to yours, his heart pump his blood through your veins. Your skin starts to flush with colour, the moss-green hue of his goblin skin spreading across your body, washing away the old skin tone. You feel slightly damp and grimy, as sweat starts to drip from you, all of it smelling like Shank. Your legs shrink and recede, pulling up against Shank's heel and disappearing. Your cock grinds against the carpet as it shrinks away, but the pleasure and sensation of it spreads all over your chest and face, leaving every inch of you pleasurable and sensitive. Your hands clench, fingers merging and disappearing, before a thick, hard point grows from where your palms used to be. A sharp, dirty yellow goblin toeclaw. Your tongue bulges forward, sliding out of your mouth and starting to harden and thicken. It too turns yellow and firm, becoming a third pointed claw sticking out from your face. Your eyes, nose and ears start to flatten away, shrinking and disappearing as your arms and head each become just large goblin toes. Somehow, your senses remain, but they feel more spread out across your entire form. You feel the carpet slide against your chest as you shrink, your body reshaping, your chest becoming a sole, your form reducing to a more appropriate size. Finally, you shudder and wiggle, feeling the change settle and become permanent. You look to your left, and see one of Shank's long green clawed toes. When you move your arm, it wiggles. The same on your right. It has really happened. You're a goblin's foot...forever. [[You are Shank's foot]]

Shank reaches down, and strokes along your chest...his sole. His fingers press and squeeze down your changed body, and you shiver a bit at the sensitivity and pleasure of it. The only reaction you can do is wiggling his toes a little, though. "Damn dude, my foot of all things. You really are a freak!", he says. He squeezes you tighter, and sticks out his green tongue. "Shit man, you feel GOOD though. This ain't bad." He lets go, and presses you down into the carpet. He flexes his toes, which gives you the alarming sensation of your 'limbs' moving against your will, but the pleasure of the soft musty carpet under you distracts you from that. You feel warm for a moment, and hear Shank grunting. From your vantage point down at floor level, you can't really see anything but the carpet and the dirty clothes covering it, but you soon realise what is going on. Shank is jerking off! All you can do is sit there, part of him, tasting his grimy sweat and smelling his goblin musk, as he pants and jerks off so close to you. Your toes clench against the carpet as he shudders and snarls, and then you feel hot, sticky globs of fluid splatter over your top, and drip down between your toes. He chuckles again, and lifts you up. You can taste his thick goblin jizz as it slowly drips down your sole, making you stick and wet and humiliated. He pulls you close, and his long tongue slides out as he licks against you. You shudder as his wet tongue slides up your sole, between your toes, and around your heel. It's warm, and intense. You find yourself pressing against him, almost like you're kissing him. But it's over far too soon, and you're left wet and still a little sticky as he pushes you back down to the carpet, and returns to his video game. [[Life as a goblin foot]]

Shank was not a particularly considerate roommate, and he isn't all that considerate as an owner, either. After the first day of initial excitement, he treats you exactly like his normal foot, seemingly forgetting about you completely. A few days later, as Shank is eating some cereal at the kitchen table, Pete enters and asks him whether he knows where you went, or what you ended up turning into. Shank just props both his big dirty feet on the table, showing off the increasingly dark stains on your soles, and says that 'he's probably around somewhere'. Now that you're permanently attached to him, you get first hand experience of Shank's lifestyle. The first and most important part - jerking off. Shank's daily schedule involves waking up late, jerking off, and then browsing the internet while still dripping with his own cum. He then gets breakfast, goes back to his room, and jerks off again, this time into one of his fleshlights. He games for a few hours, jerks off with a different fleshlight, then heads out to meet his friends. At no point does he ever seem to bathe. Each day you walk out barefoot, feeling his weight pressing down on you, your dirty soles pounding on the hot pavement. He meets up with his goblin friends, and they all game together in a pot-stinking room, and jerk off. Goblins have particularly messy loads, and you often end up catching a lot of his friend's jizz on your toes and soles. Then he either sleeps over at their place, or walks home and lets the cum dry on you on the way back. Another nighttime masturbation session, then falling asleep on a beanbag chair. At first the stink and filth of his lifestyle is disgusting. But gradually, the growing taste of dirt and stink of goblin sweat and cum starts to feel natural. As weeks pass, you start to feel proud of your nasty goblin stench. You shudder with pleasure thinking every step you are leaving behind a sticky, nasty footprint. As weeks turn into months, you start to love Shanks, love being a foot. This is what you were made for, to be underfoot, filthy and crude. This is where you always belonged.

As Shank says "fleshlight", you feel a pulling, tugging sensation. Your mouth suddenly feels dry, and you find yourself staring hungrily at Shank's crotch. [[Become a fleshlight]] [[Fight it off|Shank's Room]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

Your skin flushes with heat suddenly, as every inch of you feels unbearably sensitive. Sweat drips down your face and rapdily starts to soak your clothes. "It's...happening...", you manage to gasp out, as Shank watches in surprise and curiosity. You pull off your clothes, squirming as the sensation of them becomes unbearably intense. Soon you are standing naked in front of Shank, who has nonchalantly pulled down his own pants so he can squeeze and rub his fat green cock as he watches you change. That delicious, thick, throbbing goblin cock. Your mouth waters, and you want to reach out, to hold and touch it. It's all you can think about. But you find yourself unable to move your arms. Some sort of filmy substance has started to appear around your torso, thick a transparent slime. It spreads around you, pinning your arms to your sides and forcing you to stand straight. The substance spreads over your crotch and rear, and your rock-hard cock is trapped within it, squeezed up against your chest. Your legs suddenly feel weak and strange, and you stumble and fall onto your back. Your thighs start to shrink, pulling up against your sides as your feet and shins quickly follow suit. You wiggle and roll around as the surface covering you becomes harder and firmer, smoothing and solidifying into a cylinder. Soon your legs vanish, leaving only your butt sticking out from under the cylinder, as it begins to darken and become glossy and black. Shank leans back. pumping his cock slowly. "Nah man. Green. I want you to be green!", he says. You feel a rush of tingling pleasure, and you gasp as you actually feel colour flood into the cylinder, turning it to a mossy green camo-print. Your butt gets bigger, filling the bottom of the cylinder, while your neck starts to scrunch down, pulling your head against your shoulders. Your face shifts, feeling warm and strange as your mouth gets bigger and bigger, while the rest of your features shrink and fade away. You can feel your flesh becoming soft, rubbery, squishy. Your throat feels oddly tight, and a desperate hunger for fat goblin cock flows through you. Your body tightens, pressure growing around you as you shrink, smaller and smaller, less and less of you remaining, just a mouth and an ass in a tight plastic container. You feel dirty fingers wrap around you, and your whole body is lifted up as Shank looks at you with glee. Then he pushes you down, and rams his fat drooling green cock deep into your mouth. You feel it filling you completely, stretching your insides, finally resolving that constant, overwhelming need. Your whole mind whites out with absolute bliss, as he pumps and pounds into you, his cock stretching your whole body, his musky groin slamming into your face. Then, finally, his fat cock erupts inside you. Thick loads of messy goblin spunk soaking your insides with heat and wetness. When he pulls free, and his hot load dribbles from your mouth, you want nothing more than to belong to him forever. [[Being a fleshlight]]

Shank is just as pleased to own you as you are to be owned. The very first day you are a fleshlight, he stocks up on energy drinks, locks his door, and really breaks you in. Over and over he pounds you, barely giving you a moment to recover between nuts. You are astonished and happy to find out how ridiculous a goblin libido can really be. He plays a huge variety of filthy, kinky smut on his tv as he pumps you over his cock, from real porn to hentai to weird sexy goblin videogames. Both your mouth and ass get one hell of a workout, and you can't decide which you love more. Every touch of your owner's cock is bliss, and you adore the feeling of being filled with his cum and having it drip around inside you and leak out of you. Finally, after dozens and dozens of loads, he falls asleep exhausted, with you still impaled on his cock. Through the night, he slowly goes soft, and you slide off and ooze cum all over his carpet all night. Then, in the morning, the first thing he does is use you again. Then again after breakfast. He packs you, unwashed, into his grimy backpack, and takes you to a meetup with his goblin friends. Then you get to try being fucked from both sides, and passed around from goblin to goblin as they all mix loads inside you. You feel like you will surely split, but your body is supernaturally resilient, the perfect fuck toy. That night, when he gets home, he leaves you leaking in the sink, and your other roommate Pete stumbles across you. The big orc growls, and shouts to Shank. "Don't leave your nasty toys in the sink, Shank! That's disgusting!" Only for Shank to reply "Hey, be nice! That's our former roommate!", with a peal of laughter. The humiliation of Pete finding you soaked with cum barely registers in your mind. You are just utterly filled with bliss and joy. This is where you belong, and you couldn't be happier.

As Shank says "game controller", you feel a sudden pulsing, tugging sensation. Your mind goes hazy for a moment, and you pant at the sudden warmth in your body. [[Become a game console]] [[Resist it|Shank's Room]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

You feel an intense sensitivity rush through your skin, making you pant and gasp. Sweat drips from your face, as you rapidly pull off your remaining clothes, finding yourself unable to bear the touch of them anymore. As you look down at your body, you see your skin start to become firm and glossy, like fresh plastic. You feel stiff, and your skin feels bizarrely smooth. You see the flesh colour draining from all over you, replaced by a flush of bright green. You lift your hand, and see that it is now slightly translucent. You can see through the green plastic of your skin to what's underneath. You feel a tight tingling down the sides of your torso and your limbs, as seams form along your plastic flesh. You look down at your chest, seeing your insides compressing, transforming. Your organs changing to computer chips, screws and wires. Your eyes start to glow, and Shank grins. "Oh man, is that Goblin Layer 3 I see running in you?", he says. You can't tell, but you do feel a weird sensation in your head. Programming, code, loops and random generators. You can FEEL the characters running on your screen-eyes, feel the logic and rules of the game inside you. Your legs start to shrink, becoming stubby and round. You feel yourself lowering to the ground, your body becoming boxy and heavy. Your feet darken, transforming into soft round nubs to hold up your games console self. You whine, the sound coming out as the whirr of a CD, as your cock throbs and hardens. Shank reaches out and grabs it, then pulls it back. You would shudder if you could, as you feel it extend out from you on a charging cord. He plucks the cord from a port at the base of your balls, but you can still feel him holding your junk. He pulls and squishes on your genitals, stretching them out into a green, translucent game controller. His dirty thumbs rub and move your analog sticks, each of them feeling just like your cockhead. When he presses your buttons, it REALLY presses your buttons! The pleasure is almost unbearable, making it impossible to think or focus on anything but being owned, used, played. Your arms fold into your body torso, and your eyes get wider and wider, fusing together into a bright, glowing screen. You feel your head teeter for a moment, then rest atop your body as an expensive widescreen LCD. You are unable to move, only watch Shank, his bare feet stretched out, as he lounges in his beanbag, toying and fiddling with your cock and balls. When he scores and does well in the game, a rush of endorphins floods through you. Your mind rapidly becomes filled with game information, updates, settings and downloads. You are a machine. A games machine... "Sick, when my mates found out I've got a Goblinstation 4 they are going to PISS", Shank says with glee. [[Being a console]]

Shank plays you all night, hours and hours of that unbearable pleasure, feeling him yank and push on your cock, fiddle with your analog sticks, slam your buttons hard when he's in a tough spot. The longer you are played, the more you begin to feel the code inside you as if it was real. You can feel the running of his custom character (a goblin with a huge dick) as he sprints barefoot across the grass. You feel rushes of excitement as he parries and fights. Then, when he finishes the romance chain for one of the party members (a massive orc), you realise you feel even more. He pulls his underwear down, jacking off his fat cock as he watches the sex scene. For you, though, it's not just watching. You feel Shank's character ramming his fat cock into his orc boyfriend's ass, and you also feel every thrust of that cock as if it's inside your own butt. It's getting harder and harder to distinguish between the game worlds and the "real" world, as your mind becomes more digital, more electronic. Eventually, Shank falls asleep, coated in his own cum. Your controller rests against his slowly softening cock, his cum dripping along your buttons. In the morning, he immediately downloads a new game onto you, Horny Roar. You feel it slowly filling your brain as you draw the data out from the internet. He practices for a while, and you feel each punch and grapple, the sensation rattling your mind. When he goes away, you feel lonely and miss him. You want to be played, to be used. You are overjoyed when he returns with your other roommate, Pete. The huge orc is just wearing shorts and a tank top, and looks down with annoyance as he tries to find somewhere to sit that isn't filthy. "This is your new console? How did you afford this?", Pete asks. Shank winks, and hands him your cock, and you feel the orc's massive rough hands stroking your analog sticks, pressing down on your buttons. He and Shank fight for a while, and Shank easily wins. He's playing a sort of short feral monster man, and his character pins down Pete's gargoyle and fucks him in the ass as ORGASMALITY appears on screen. You feel every motion, every horny thrust and gushing drip of digital cum. Shank turns to Pete, grinning. "Guess what? This new console is our roommate! And you were playing with his dick!" Pete drops your cock on the carpet, and flinches. You would feel embarrassed, but being used and played feels so natural, like it's what you were made for. Pete apologises to you, and says he will try and come play you more often and that he still respects you even if you are an object now. As he leaves, Shank goes to your system menu. "Huh. Well, I don't respect you. You belong to me now, dude, and I get to do whatever I want. Which is free up some space for Goblinpunk: Shadow Operative." He opens your disc drive, and selects a 5TB file called "Memories and Personality". Then he clicks delete. With a sudden rush, your head feels empty, calm, content. You are so free, so full of space. You can be an even better console for your owner now. You love your master. You think only of being played and used. You have always been a games console. This is where you belong. You are a perfect, horny machine.

You have a few new messages. [[DMO: Due Date]] [[Pete: Big day, huh?]] [[Aleki.Enforcers: This is what you're missing]] [[shankmaster_goblincock: lol lol lmao lol]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

"For your information, It has come to our attention that your due date for becoming an object is today. We have sent a representative from the Enforcers to ensure that your transition goes smoothly. Your change will be logged and registered. We have included a document with more information as to your new role. Department of Magical Objects" There is also a pdf called 'So now you're an item?', which you have read before. It is very unhelpful. [[Check your messages]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

This one is from Pete, one of your flatmates. "Hey dude, Big day. Keep your chin up, you'll be a great item. I promise it won't be so bad. Come chat with me if you need to." [[Check your messages]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

It's from Aleki, your jerk ex-boyfriend. You broke up with him when he joined the enforcers and started turning into an aggressive, possessive asshole. Appropriately, it's just a photo of his furry brown minotaur ass. Delightful. [[Check your messages]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

"Did you think I was here for a booty call? I have so many better options than you now. Women love a guy in uniform", Aleki says smugly, flexing one of his gigantic biceps. "It's just Enforcer business. Direct orders from Mayor Ebonscale, any magical item people need to be checked on and ensured that they lock in to their form before they have a forced awakening. Some shit about social cohesion or how they'd be dangerous if they change into something without being monitored and logged." He pats a weapon at his side that looks like a slim truncheon with a pistol grip. Very likely an enchanted wand modified to look like a gun, because that is of course what Enforcers are like. The threat is obvious. "Don't worry though. If you leave it too long I have authority to ENFORCE a form on you. The station could use a new motorbike." [[Back|Kitchen/Living Room]]

It's from Shank, one of your flatmates. It's a photo of a cardboard box that he has scribbled "YOU" on in MagicSoft Paint. There is a red arrow, helpfully pointing to the box. [[Check your messages]] [[Log out|Your Room]]

The pulling sensation starts up as you look down at the sock. Your body feels warm, and your vision blurs, pulling down towards the sock. In your mouth, you taste a faint hint of sweat and...something salty. Shank looks at you, and down at what you're looking at. He snorts, coughing as he starts laughing. "Oh, dude, man, seriously? You're going to be THAT sock?" [[Resist|Shank's Room]] [[Become Shank's 'special' sock]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

Your whole body flushes with warmth for a moment, your skin becoming unbearably sensitive. You are forced to pull off your remaining clothes as you find yourself unable to handle the touch of them against your skin. As soon as you do, you immediately begin to feel weak, and light headed. You fall backwards, landing on your ass with a soft sound. You look down at your skin and see the colour bleaching out, as your flesh becomes an off-white shade. The texture of fabric spreads down your chest and across your limbs, as you feel an odd, cottony dryness covering your senses. All that sensation barely registers though, compared to the overwhelming nasty sensation bubbling up in your head. A rank, stinking, sticky taste in the back of your throat, a heavy wetness in your chest. A stench of old sex and funk and cum that is oozing all through your body, permeating your senses and making everything else impossible to focus on. You try to sit up, but your limbs feel heavy and limp. You see Shank standing over you, his body seeming to get bigger and bigger as you shrink and dwindle away. "Damn, dude. Of all the things to be, you wanna be my cum sock? Hell of a destiny." He reaches down and picks you up in his grimy hand, and you dangle from his grip as your limbs shrink away and merge with the thin shell of fabric you are becoming. Your head shrinks down into your neck, your mouth opening wider as you mumble and gasp desperately. "Damn, you're already broken in, too! I can smell a year's worth of loads in you. Fine with me, though." He pulls down his shorts, revealing his thick, fat, drooling green cock. You are unable to speak or even gurgle for help as he pulls your fabric mouth over his unwashed shaft, and then grips you tightly, squeezing your body over his cock and beginning to pump and pound and stroke with you. He grunts and moans, then his cock throbs heavily, and his swollen green cockhead erupts with cum. The thick, sticky warm goo spurts into your body, soaking your fabric and leaving you heavy and dripping and wet. As the cum oozes into your form, the last signs of your face slowly fades away. [[Being a cum sock]]

Shanks's libido is absolutely insatiable. As soon as he's done creaming in you the first time, he immediately flicks on some goblin hentai, then starts pounding one out again using your wet and dripping form as a lubricated fucktoy. At first you are humiliated, disgusted. To be something so repulsive and degrading is surely horrible. Yet by the fourth load, you find yourself desperate for more. By the sixth time he's rubbed his swollen green cock over you, you are gagging for it. He cums nine times that night, and you are left swollen and overflowing with cum, in a puddle on his floor. All you can think of is how incredibly lucky you are, and how wonderful it feels to be a filthy cum rag. Shanks isn't the sentimental type, and in the days that follow he doesn't show you any special treatment. Some days you are left on the floor, or buried under piles of his dirty laundry, and he forgets about you. He has many fleshlights he can cum in, or sometimes he even just jizzes all over his naked body and falls asleep dripping with it. Other days he fishes you out from the pile to wipe himself down, soaking you with old or drying cum, then tossing you aside in a wet heap. The taste of your owner's jizz is orgasmic, and makes you shudder and lose yourself in bliss. The best days of all, of course, are where you get to feel his fat cock filling you, and be blessed with a direct load of his smelly, sticky nut right inside your body. You live for those heavenly days, and with each time it happens, you forget more and more that you were ever anything but a sock. This is where you belong.

You lie helplessly on the floor for a while, unable to move or do anything. Eventually you hear the thumping sound of someone approaching, and the door opens. A large, muscular bare green foot presses down on your soft fabric. Your sense of touch is incredible. You can feel every curve, every wrinkle of the heavy orc foot. The scent and taste immediately makes you realise this is your roommate Pete. He looks down at you. "Oh, that one's clean, that shouldn't be there", he says. He picks you up, and you feel his rugged, rough hands as he places you onto the warm and cozy heated towel rack. That gives you a perfect vantage point for seeing the bathroom. You watch as Pete pulls off his tank top, revealing his chiselled and thick green muscles. He drops his pants, and you see his round firm ass and the hefty bulge in his boxer briefs. Then he slowly peels those down too, and his fat green orc cock flops free. He steps into the shower, and you get a perfect view of the water running down his abs and chest, making his moss-green body glisten and shine. The room steams up, and the moisture makes you feel tense and excited. Pete finishes his shower, and then steps out to grab you. You are pulled close, and then finally pressed against his naked body. You can feel your entire form being rubbed over his firm muscles, stroked and grinded into his body. He pushes your face into his wet armpits, across his back and chest. You rub up against his face and hair, and then feel every part of you slide across his tight ass, his strong legs, his thick and powerful feet. The pleasure is overwhelming, mind-blowing. Soaking up water is what you are designed for, and every drop you take from Pete is like a mini-orgasm in itself. You are utterly lost in the pleasure, and it makes you tremble and vibrate. Pete groans, and shudders too. He's rubbing you against his cock and balls, your warmth and vibration making him twitch and leak. "Damn, that's new...", he mutters. He grips the sink with one hand, and starts to hump and grind into you. You feel his cock throb, tense, and then erupt with thick, powerful orc cum. It splatters and gushes onto your body as he lets out a rumbling growl of pleasure. He pants, and you droop in his grip. You're almost immediately dry, as you can feel yourself absorbing and consuming both the water and his fluids. He looks at you suspiciously, then his eyebrows raise. "Oh, it's you! Of course, today was your big day. You should have told me you wanted to be my towel! I am honored, my friend. You will be my workout companion, my favourite gym towel!" He lifts you up and kisses your fabric, and you tremble again. From that day forward, he takes you with him every day to the gym. You soak up his sweat, dry his body after the showers, and experience his naked form more intimately and regularly than you ever thought possible. You are his. He is your master. This is where you have always belonged.

It's forward, and not something you're sure you'd ever utter if not for the situation you're in, but you have to admit you have always been curious about it. Pete's eyes widen slightly as he hears your request. He hesitates for just a moment, then nods firmly. "Of course. I said I would be honoured for you to become one with me, and I do mean it. No reason to be bashful if you're going to consider becoming part of my body", he says. Pete reaches down and pulls down his jogging pants, revealing that he's not wearing any underwear. You suspected his cock was going to be big, but you had not prepared for just how much meat he would be packing. It's a gigantic, heavy dark-green bratwusrt, dangling halfway down to his knees, and it isn't even hard yet. Pete smiles, his tusks gleaming. "My weapon!", he exclaims. [[Pete's cock]]

Your whole body flushes with intense heat, a throbbing sensation flowing through every inch of your skin. You stumble, grabbing on to the side of the sink basin, but the cool porcelain does not help to ease the burning feeling from your oversensitive skin rubbing against your clothing. You quickly scramble out of them, pulling off your shirt and wriggling free of your pants, but your body still needs something, is compelled towards a growing desire. Nervously you look over to the toilet, only to see it has vanished. Some quirk of the magic of your unfortunate fate has erased it, leaving only a very inviting pipe, a pipe waiting for you. You step towards it, unable to resist. With a groan, you sit down, feeling the pipe press against your backside, stretching you, filling you. It's almost too much to bear as you feel the plumbing slide up your ass, the plastic merging with your insides, making your belly gurgle as you feel your body becoming one with it. You drop to your knees, your skin starting to feel cold, smooth and strange. Your body is turning pale, the colour of flesh fading into a creamy, glossy white. Your lower body merges and blends together, sealing against the ground as it takes on the smooth curves of a toilet base. Your arms press to your sides, out of your control as they merge with your torso. Your face begins to stretch, growing wider and rounder, your throat filling with water as your jaw expands out into the basin of your new toilet form. Your upper lip stiffens, becoming a new seat, while you feel the rest of your head receding against the wall, filling with water and gurgling as it becomes the cistern. Suddenly you flush, feeling the water in your mouth suck down into your belly and away, your mind blanking out for a moment with an unbelievably intense pleasure, one that is matched only by a deep, addictive craving, a humiliating but undeniable wish that you'd been...used...before you got flushed. You sit there, embarrassed and awkward, dreading the moment your flatmates discover your new permanent role. [[Being the toilet]]

It takes over an hour before you are discovered, and to add insult to injury, of course the one who finds you is Shanks. He stumbles into the bathroom, yelling back at someone in the hall. "Just hold your fucking cock a second, I need to take a slash!", he shouts. You see him tug down his shorts, revealing his thick green cock and aiming it at you. He hesitates for a moment, looking you up and down. "When did we get a new-", he says, before a crazed grin spreads across his face. "No way! No fucking way!", he yells. He starts laughing uncontrollably, falling to his knees and pounding the tiles with his fist, tears in his eyes as his mocking laughter fills the room. "The fucking toilet! You're our fucking TOILET!", he gasps through chokes of laughter. When he gets control of himself, he rushes outside and you hear him shouting to someone called 'Fucknuts' about how they "have to come and see this". He re-enters with two other goblins, some of his friends. All of them are short, slovenly and look at you with mirthful grins. "You know we gotta break him in", Shanks says, and the others nod as they pull down their pants and you face the business end of three fat unwashed goblin cocks. Immediately, streams of thick steaming piss gush over you, splashing into your mouth, over your lid, along your sides and your cistern. The goblins lack either good aim or much care for your wellbeing, and their piss is acrid, yellow and foul, but to your deep shame there's an almost addictive pleasure to the taste, to being used for your role. When they finish they leave without washing their hands, a puddle of piss cooling around your base. You hear them laughing and insulting you all the way to Shanks room. You desperately wish they had flushed you, but you are helpless to do anything about it. Much later, Pete enters the room and sighs with annoyance as he sees the mess. Ever honorable, he grabs a mop and starts cleaning up, only to hesitate as he realises that you're not the usual toilet. A smile spreads across his face. "Oh, it's you! Yes it was your big day. I must say I'm a little surprised you would choose this role, but I respect your dedication to serving an honorable and important purpose!", his booming voice says firmly. He quickly mops up around you, then wipes down the worst of the dripping piss with some paper towels. The feeling of his care and attention is strangely romantic, the strength of his hands wiping you up, cleaning you, caring for you. Then he lowers his pants and turns around, and you get up and close with his muscular, round green ass. You are barely ready when he sits down, his flesh pressing on your lid, his weight squeezing down on you. He grunts, doing his business, and you feel him fill your bowl, the quantity and size of it almost overwhelming. Despite your fears, to your new body the taste is not disgusting, instead just a rush of information and validation. When he stands and wipes, you feel his hand on your flush handle. You almost want to ask him to let you gather your breath first, but he pushes down hard. Instantly your mind collapses, every part of you dedicated to the rush of water, to guzzling down your duty, cleaning yourself, preparing to be used again. You feel his waste flow down your pipes and your whole body erupts with such bliss that you feel sure that if you were human you'd be soaked in a gallon of your own cum from the rush of it. As you gradually fill back up and come back to your senses, you see Pete dutifully filling you with toilet cleaner, the minty spritz of it refreshing and soothing. He scrubs you, wipes you down, and gives you a bow. "I will see you often, my friend! You are an intimate guardian of my needs, and there is no shame in that!", he says brightly. You can only try to gather your thoughts after those two experiences, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. Two owners with very different goals, Shanks who will be abusing, fouling and laughing at you, while Pete cares for, cleans and attends to you. With a shameful but giddy rush of glee, you realise you are looking forward to it.

You can barely drag your eyes away, and it is no surprise that you feel that tugging, needy, intense sensation drawing you to become one with the heavy beef before you. [[Fight it off|Pete's Room]] [[Become Pete's cock]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

You feel an intense rush of pleasure flowing through you, a stiffness, a warmth, an overwhelming need to find and fulfil your new role. Your skin tingles and grows so hot and sensitive that you can barely stand it. You strip off your clothing, unable to deal with the touch of them against your skin for a moment longer. Pete does the same, stepping out of the jogging pants that he was wearing, and stepping forward to grab you. Unlike the discomfort of your clothes, being touched by Pete's naked body feels blissfully right, like this is where you belong. Pete grunts, panting and snarling. "This must be your powers. I can feel it. I need to...I NEED...", he gasps, his voice growing rougher, drool frothing from his thick lower lip. You feel his cock stiffen and press against your backside as he holds you tighter. With a growl, he shoves his enormous manhood into you, your ass opening to accept it, like you were made for this. As soon as he does, as soon as every inch of his veiny hard meat is inside you, you feel a connection form. His flesh merges with yours, his crotch blending with your backside. Your heart trembles, and with a gasp you feel the intense hammer-like sensation of Pete's meaty orc heart pumping his blood through your veins. Your skin grows even more sensitive, your flesh gradually shifting, the mossy green of Pete's skin flowing up through you, changing you. You feel his enormous rough hands stroke up and down your chest, while your body begins to adjust, to change to meet Pete's needs. Your insides feel firm and strange, becoming just a tube surrounded by throbbing flesh. Your legs sink down, merging and blending with Pete's huge sweaty green balls. You feel the churning, ever-flowing rush of his cum now part of you, now an endless furnace of heat and fertility flowing in your lower body. Pete presses your arms to your sides, and they merge with your stretching, growing torso, blending with the flesh of the veiny shaft that is rapidly replacing your whole body. Your mouth gushes, a flood of slippery fluid oozing and dribbling from it, and you know that it is Pete's precum, soaking and oozing down your chin as your head sinks down into your neck, your face becomes throbbing and flushed, begins to change to the dark-green almost purple shade of Pete's cockhead. Almost none of your former self is left, only a monstrously huge green cock that Pete is desperately pumping, stroking, pleasuring between his legs. "I must...as an orc I must only cum when I claim another man, defeat him...so I claim you now as mine, my property and my body, part of me forever!", he snarls. That is all you need to push you over the edge of the building bliss that has been assaulting your mind this entire time. Pete roars, and you feel an explosion of cum rush through your body and splatter out from your mouth, hitting the wall with an audible slamming sound. What feels like a gallon of seed erupts from you, spurt after spurt, thick ropes of white creamy steaming and stinking orc cum that covers everything, until Pete collapses on his back, panting and dripping with cum. Gradually you shrink down, becoming a foot-long monster between his legs, oversized but manageable. This is your life now. You are Pete's cock. [[Life as a warrior's manhood]]

You feel a strange heat inside you, a sensation of odd power, weight and intensity. Along with an unfamiliar and slightly scary need - a need to hurt people and be soaked in blood. [[Become an enchanted weapon]] [[Resist|Pete's Room]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

Your body aches for a moment, followed by a rush of heat and sensitivity as the touch of your clothing on your skin becomes nearly unbearable. You are forced to scramble to pull your shirt off and shove down your pants to free yourself from the sensation. When you do, you realise your skin has started to darken, the flesh deepening to a metallic, inhuman grey. Your whole body feels dense, firm, heavy and hard. When you take a step, the floor under you creaks. You can feel your insides turning to solid steel, your body becoming shorter, stouter. Your limbs shrink down, your head drawing down into your neck. It should feel strange, but instead it's intensely pleasurable, this feeling of power and weight. Your cock starts to harden, growing and stiffening far beyond its normal limits. Your growing manhood twitches, becoming straight and firm, the flesh darkening into the colour of old oak. It grows thicker and wider, becoming a massive pole standing up two feet in the air, then three. You can only wriggle and struggle as your shrinking limbs pull up against your torso, the rest of your body compressing into a massive cube of solid steel. With a twist of pleasure, leather straps wrap around your cock, and you gasp as Pete reaches down and grabs your cock firmly in both hands. You feel a rush of arousal, sensation and desire as Pete lifts you, his muscles straining as he claims you as his own, a bond forming between you that makes him pant and froth at the mouth. Your body finishes changing, your face just a carved and twisted design of a lustful grin in your steel body, as you fill Pete with a need to crush, smash, destroy, fight! He is your warrior! You are his weapon! Berserker! His eyes glow, and he lets out a war cry, his voice shaking the walls as he swings you against the wall, exploding out a five foot hole in a rush of sensation that causes both of you to black out with the rush of violent orgasm that smashes through your minds. [[Life as a mighty warhammer]]

When Pete eventually wakes up, you lying beside him, Shank is looking at him through the hole in the wall. Pete realises what he's done and stammers out an apology, saying that he will fix it and that he just lost control for a moment. You send him a message ordering him to assert his authority by stepping on Shank and claiming him as a trophy of war, but he shakes his head and tightens his grip on you. "Chill, my friend. I knew that true orc weapons were feisty, but we must maintain control of ourselves. A true orc warrior is always in control, even when he chooses to enter his berserker rage", he says confidently. You tell him it would be really sexy if he smashed some more walls. From that day on, you are Pete's beloved and treasured enchanted weapon. All you can think about is the pleasure of combat, conquering and violence. To your extreme annoyance, Pete is not easily swayed into going into another rage, but it is very enjoyable when he regularly polishes, cleans and maintains you. He is as diligent as he is strong, and you gleam with weapon oil. Fortunately you don't have to rot in a cupboard your whole existence. Now that he has a weapon like you, Pete signs up to be a monster hunter, keeping the city safe by exploring particularly dangerous zones that were massively changed by the Rift, and taking down monsters before they can endanger civilians. The two of you are an unstoppable team. With you in his hands, he is a whirling tornado of death. Each time you smash into some giant lizard's face and send scales flying, it's like you're orgasming all over again. From time to time you even manage to take full control of Pete, driving him into a lustful frenzy of berserker lust, smashing everything around him to pieces. You never manage to convince him to hurt an innocent though, which on some level you are very proud about. You have a vague feeling that tempting him to do so is part of your job, but also a deep pride that he never falls for it. Your warrior is mighty, and honorable, and also from time to time when he's alone in a monster zone, all his foes defeated, sweating and gasping with you in his hands... ...well, it's only natural that he strips down, holds you close, and strokes himself until his seed mixes with the mess all over your hammerhead. After all, a warrior's weapon should be his closest companion. Yeah, being a weapon is the absolute best.

It takes almost an hour before Pete recovers from your combined orgasm enough to stand. Immediately his duty takes over, and he gets to work cleaning up the mess you made, wiping up the cum, washing down his equipment, and then heading to the shower. Shank spots him walking through the corridor naked, and whistles appreciatively when he sees the size of what Pete is packing. "Damn boy, and I thought us goblins were the ones who were fifty percent cock!", he jokes. Pete washes himself down in a steaming shower that is intensely pleasurable to your new self. There is something oddly comforting about hanging between Pete's legs, only responsible for the role of your new life as a body part. Already you are craving more sex, more pleasure, and you find yourself sending signals to Pete, trying to beg him to stroke you as he showers. He grins, and looks down at you. "I can feel that. It is good to see you are still in there. Alas my friend, I cannot play with you. I spoke true earlier - I may only release when I earn it in battle. You will have to learn the patience of a warrior!", he says. To your dismay, he is entirely honest about that. The next few days your need and desires only grow, but though Pete speaks to you regularly, washes you and treats you well, he adamantly refuses to masturbate. Even when he goes to the gym and spars, that doesn't seem to count. Only that Sunday, when he attends a ranked match at a combat arena, do you get your chance. The arena is set up like an MMA fight, Pete bare-chested and with his arms and legs wrapped in athletic tape, up against a lizardman warrior. The battle is brutish and long, Pete grappling the scaly man, taking blows, and eventually pinning him beneath his body as the referee counts down. With every moment your need grows, the need to fuck, to own, to claim this warrior. After the match in the locker room Pete strips naked, and you stand erect and firm, practically screaming at him to fufil his promise. He grins down at you, and the beaten and bruised lizardman approaches, fresh out of the showers. The lizard looks at you needily, and gets down on his knees, opening his mouth and revealing a massive, wet and warm tongue. You experience the blowjob of your life, one that encompasses your entire body, wrapped around that tongue, drawn expertly into the lizardman's mouth, stroked and teased until you cannot think of anything but need. Then Pete presses down his defeated foe, lifts his tail, and claims his prize. Everything after that is a blur of utter joy, the thrusting, the pounding, and the eventual explosive relief as you erupt cum into the tight green scaly ass of the moaning warrior. This is your life now, a week of training, chastity and patience, followed by a chance to earn relief in battle in the Sunday match. Pete doesn't always win, and in some torturous times you go two or three weeks without the orgasm you crave. The eventual victory is all the sweeter for it though, and you can think of no life more wonderful than this, claiming and feeling the bodies of every monster, beast and warrior in the new post-Rift world alongside your warrior and master.

You find your eyes drawn to the dummy. It's extremely dense and heavy, shaped vaguely like a human but made of a thick weighted material that can be mounted on a pole and used as a punching bag, or stand freely to be grabbed, grappled and tossed around. You feel a tingling sensation, a draw to the idea of Pete's sweaty, glistening muscles pinning you to the floor, his fists slamming into your material, harmlessly and pleasurably thumping against your stuffing... [[Become a dummy]] [[Resist|Pete's Room]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

Something draws your eye to the shelves, though you're not quite sure what until you get closer. There are neatly-separated stacks of t-shirts, pants, socks and - There. You can feel it, the draw, the tug, the desire to become an object. It's coming from the stack of Pete's extra-large, carefully washed boxer briefs. [[Become Pete's underwear]] [[Resist|Pete's Room]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

Your body throbs and aches with need, and you find yourself quickly tugging at your clothes, stripping them carelessly from your body before the growing sensitivity of your skin makes them unbearable. The change coming over you is rapid and strange. You can feel a heavy dense sensation in your belly, but it's spreading all through you, your body growing firm and stiff. With a tingle of strange pleasure, stitches slide down your sides, and your skin starts to darken and grow glossy and firm, gradually turning to supple black leather. Pete reacts with delight, standing up and admiring you with wide eyes. "Incredible! You wish to be my permanent sparring partner? You truly choose to dedicate yourself to my training?", he says eagerly. You try to reply, but your mouth is sealing closed. You reach up to your face with your heavy, floppy arms, and feel the strange sensation of your head being nothing but a heavy round leather sack. Your cock is rock hard, but it slowly shrinks down into your crotch, sealed away yet somehow still throbbing, needy and intense. Pete steps over and embraces you in a hug, and you almost lose yourself in the pleasure of it. His slick, rock-hard, sweaty green muscles pressed against your leather, the strength of his arms embracing and squeezing you, it sends a rush through you as if every part of you is a rock-hard needy cock that just got stroked and squeezed. He steps back and flexes, then before you get a chance to react, he grabs hold of your arm, twists his body, and flings you over his shoulder and SLAMS you onto the ground, before pinning you under him. In that moment of impact, you have the hardest, most mind-breaking orgasm you have ever had. [[Life as a training dummy]]

As Pete's training dummy, you might well get more intimate body-to-body time with him than even his girlfriend would. He uses you constantly, obsessively. Every morning he wakes up and stretches, then practices his throws and grappling on you. In this form you are an object, but you retain a minimal amount of mobility and freedom. You can't speak, you don't sleep or need to eat or breathe, but you can move just enough to make you better for his practice. Each time you feel him grab you, each time his sweat-dripping muscles drag your limbs behind you, or smash you into the ground, or pull you into a full-body wrestling hold, you cum. You can't show it, you can't tell him it's happening, but the orgasms wrack your body and mind, and he never lets you even recover before you're dragged into some new throw or hold, forced into another full-body explosion of bliss. That's just the mornings, and he leaves you lying on the floor trying to pull your brain back together as he goes to shower. He always wipes you down and returns you to your stand after his shower, and there's a tingly pleasure of feeling him wipe and clean your leather. Not to mention that being slid onto your pole feels like you're being peneatrated with a four foot long cock, which leaves you hanging there in intense need and anticipation until Pete returns to you. Which he does at his lunch break, taking the chance to use you as a punching bag. Each time his meaty green fists slam into your padded body, you feel like you are going to moan and beg for more. No matter how hard he goes, you can't be harmed, can't be damaged, you just sit and take it, letting him unload everything on you. At night he uses you again, giving himself a "cooldown" by stripping naked and practicing holds and grips on you until he's tired enough to collapse into bed. His cock, enormously long and always needy and throbbing, is pressed into every part of you. More often than not, he'll collapse naked in bed with you draped over him like a lover. A lover, a fighting partner, an object. He's all yours, and he adores you. Being a training dummy is wonderful.

You feel a rush of sensation overcome you, an intense feeling of heat, sensitivity and need. The touch of your clothing against your skin becomes unbearable, and you find yourself struggling out of it, scrambling to pull your shirt and pants off in a panic. Pete steps forward, tenderly and carefully pulling your shirt off and guiding you out of your pants. His touch is blissful, orgasmic, perfect. You need to be up against his bare skin, you need to surround it, protect it. You moan in bliss, and he looks around curiously. "Is it happening? What are you becoming?", he asks firmly. You can barely speak, only paw at his pants, and after a moment he seesm to understand. As he pulls down his jogging pants, your skin starts to become soft and you feel the sensation of fabric, a cottony feeling all over you as your flesh loses its colour and becomes a bright clean white. He's barely stepped out of his jogging bottoms before you lunge at him, pressing your face into his crotch. He's surprised but rolls with it, stroking your head as you feel his soft cock and heavy thick green balls squish against your softening face. Your arms wrap instinctively around his waist, your body flowing up around him as your mind is filled with an absolute certainty that you belong there, around his crotch, on his body. You feel his firm muscular green body inside you, his round backside, his oversized package. Your arms merge at his backside, becoming an elastic waistband. The rest of you becomes white fabric, conforming perfectly to the shape of his body and his muscles, as you nuzzle your face against his manhood and lose yourself in the utter joy of being boxer briefs. "Welcome, my proud under armour!", he says with delight, his hand stroking over the bulge in his crotch as the last of your human form fades into this new self. [[Life as Pete's underwear]]

Pete wastes no time in settling in to the idea of you being his clothing. Part of you is really hoping he'll jerk off, because it's hard not to think about your owner's cock when it's literally pressed at all times between where your eyes used to be, but like most orcs Pete has an obsessive fixation on discipline and self-improvement. He pulls up his jogging pants, leaving you in the warm darkness with nothing to focus on but the feeling of his body inside your layer of tight stretchy cotton. You feel him return to working out, every movement of his muscles flexing against you as he pounds on his training dummy, his body strong, firm and dangerous. After that you can feel him put on his sneakers and head out for a jog. The warmth of the hot day makes him gradually sweat, making you damp, heavy and fragrant with your owner's musk. It feels absolutely incredible, every moment of serving your role filling you with such a blissful sense of purpose and joy that you can barely even think about what life was like before. At the end of the day you see light again as he drops his pants, and slowly and teasingly you are peeled off, pulled down his legs and left dangling in his grip. Not being worn feels strange, you feel so limp and helpless without his muscles inside you. Your whole body is wet with his sweat, and you see him look at you proudly. "Excellent work, partner! I shall reward you well with cleaning and care!", he says. You are dropped into a basket of other clothing, all of it fragrant with that scent that you are so addicted to. Not long after, you feel yourself being pushed into a cold metal drum, before the washing machine turns on and everything becomes a dizzying experience of spinning, wetness and frothing bubbly soap. Your mind doesn't return to you fully until much later, when you realise you're hanging on a washing line, drying out. You were not expected being washed to be so intense. It's like your brain was also washed, your thoughts erased and cleaned out, leaving you to slowly recover yourself and remember what you are - underwear, existing to be worn and to serve. You are pretty sure that's all you've ever been. Life goes on like that, and you love every minute of it. Being worn, feeling Pete's body, being washed. Best of all though is those rare times when you are the underwear he wears to a battle on Sunday, and he wins. That is the only time Pete allows himself to orgasm, and there is absolutely nothing that can match the sensation of heat, joy and bliss that you feel when your owner lets his massive cock erupt with cum, splattering himself and often you with the dripping result. Being underwear is the absolute best.

Part of you knows this is a terrible idea, that the last thing you want is to be permanently trapped between Aleki's gigantic furry asscheeks. Another part though, a part that has been drawing your attention all day, is telling you to give in. You step closer, the two massive orbs of Aleki's butt right in your face. The glossy material barely seems to cover it, stretched so much over his massive backside that it almost looks about to split. Before you know it, you find yourself shoving your face into his crack, while both of your hands grope and squeeze his muscular cheeks. His tail flicks in surprise, but then he lets out a chuckle. "That's right. Worship me. Show me how much better you know I am than you", he snorts. You barely hear him though, and when he begins to pull down his pants to reveal the bare fur of his cheeks and the massive, wrinkled black-skinned hole between them, you let out a loud moan of utter need. It's a hot and muggy day outside, and Aleki has been squeezed into his heavy armored uniform for hours. The moment he pulled his pants down, the air became hotter, more humid. The thick, steamy musk of his backside, beefy and ripe and intense, washes over you. You see sweat dripping slowly down the wrinkles of his hole, and can feel the heat radiating from him. "Kiss it, bitch", he grunts. Your mind is swimming with need, your body tingling and throbbing and aching with the onset of the change. You practically stumble over yourself to both clumsily strip naked while also shoving your face into Aleki's bovine crack, kissing his slick hole, tasting the sweat and heat and musk of the day. Your tongue slips into him, making him snort, and you squeeze, massage and rub his cheeks obsessively. You feel yourself starting to change, a sensation of your body being pulled up magnetically into Aleki's hole, but before your flesh can begin to merge with his, he reaches down and drags you away. Your body aches, a whimper of pain squeaking from your mouth at being denied your place, your destiny, your desire. Your hands are wrenched behind your back, and you feel Aleki clapping handcuffs around your wrists. Before you can move, he picks you up and throws you onto the couch, then shoves you down and cuffs your ankles, too. You look up to see a sadistic grin stretched across his face. "Once the change starts, it hurts to be denied it. I looked it up. I wanna see you beg and squirm. I want to watch you offer me EVERYTHING for the honour of letting me turn you into my unwashed, hairy asshole", he says, spit flecking onto your face as he pants with delight to look down at your helpless form. You know this is humiliating and degrading, but your will is rapidly crumbling, your mind shattering with the rising, overwhelming need to take your place in Aleki's ass. Sweat drips down your naked body, all you can think of is his hole. He casually removes his boots and takes his time slowly pulling down his pants, revealing his massive heavy minotaur cock. "Tell me I'm the best guy you ever met. How I am right about everything and always was, and you are a dumb fucking loser for ever speaking back to me or letting me go", he says with a smile. You nod, wriggling against your restraints, babbling about how much you adore and worship him. With each thing you say, his cock twitches and hardens and rises to a full erection. "Tell me what a piece of shit you are, say that getting the honour of squeezing out my shits from now on is better than you deserve", he says. You can feel a hypnotic, addictive madness flowing through you, you barely remember who you are, where you are. Your entire body aches with need, and you'll say anything to finish your change. He strokes his cock slowly, watching you squirm and beg and whimper. Droplets of his precum drip onto your face, before he finally relents and turns around. You see his ass descending on you like an eclipse, his two massive cheeks blotting out the light, his musk and heat lowering down onto you, covering your face, smothering you until all you can feel is Aleki's ass. Your body twitches, changes. Your limbs are pulled up, drawn into his backside. You can feel the roundness of his cheeks, the short fur. You can taste and smell his sweat. You feel your face darkening, becoming shiny, sweaty and wrinkled, and he moans with pleasure. As the last of you is pulled up into him, you can feel his hand on his cock, and you feel it as he orgasms, soaking his breastplate in thick ropes of stinking minotaur cum, while you clench and flex, nothing but a body part, his hole, his ass. He sighs happily. "Now who's the asshole..." [[Surrender to your fate as Aleki's hole]] [[Try to assert yourself as much as you can|Life as an asshole]]

Having the change drawn out like that, breaking your body and mind, has left you dizzy, confused and forgetful. You are only vaguely aware that you are even a person at all, and you have no memory of your former self. All you know is the round shape of Aleki's cheeks in front of you, the feeling of your face as his hole, the knowledge you are a part of him. You feel him pulling his uniform back on, and the tight material slides over you, dropping you into a hot, humid and sweaty darkness. When he returns to his patrol car and sits down, you feel his entire weight pressed down onto you, like you're being crushed under his ass. Your entire sensory experience is heat, taste and scent, the minotaur's rank musk filling every part of your scrambled brain. All you can do is sit there, dripping with sweat, as he continues his day in the hot summer sun. Eventually he returns to the station, and you hear him walking through and doing his report. There's a clopping of hooves, and a cocky voice says "Oh you're back Aleki. Weren't you visiting your boyfriend? Did he plow that fat ass of yours?" Mocking laughter follows that, and you clench with Aleki's anger. "Call me a faggot one more time O'Neill, watch me break all four of your legs and drag you to the glue factory!", Aleki yells. A few hours later he heads to the showers, and as he pulls his uniform off you get a look at the others in the locker room. A massive werewolf, the tip of his oversized beer-can-girth red knot peeking from his sheath. A centaur shampooing his tail, his gigantic balls and sweaty sheath clearly visible. An ogre, stomping through the shower and failing to wash away the rank stink of his swampy green armpits away. You clench and throb, thinking about each of them filling you, stretching you, pounding you to your limit. Aleki twitches, trying to cover his cock as it starts to harden, and storms out when the other guys start to chuckle and joke about it. He eventually gets home, ignoring you the entire time, treating you like nothing but the hole you are. After he slams the door of his apartment he quickly strips naked, and you see he's bought something in a white plastic bag on the way home. He opens it nervously, revealing an extremely oversized rubber horse dildo. "I'm not a fucking bottom...stupid fucking magic...", he mutters. You flex and throb, making him moan with need. He doesn't even shower, instead fumbling with the toy and sitting on the couch, pressing the flared tip against you. You feel yourself stretch, your mouth forced open wider and wider, until the thick and firm rubbery material slides inside you. You gag on it, it fills you, strains you. Aleki moans, his cock gushing pre, and your pleasure merges with his, making his eyes roll up in his head, making him pound and pump his dick like a man addicted. When you hit the base, you let out the intense pleasurable relief you've been holding on to, burning up Aleki's body with an explosion of orgasmic bliss. He collapses onto his back, his cock spraying a hose of cum so high into the air that some of it lands on his ceiling fan, and shudders as he soaks himself with nut. As the horse cock slowly slides free from you, you start sending signals to Aleki's mind, thoughts and desires of how much better the real thing would be from that cocky centaur. How much he wants that werewolf's rock hard knot, how good an ogre's monstrously massive green club could feel. He groans and clutches his head. Maybe being an asshole is just where you were meant to be after all...

Aleki's clearly already eaten one, because of course Enforcers love donuts. There's a gap in the box where somehow you can tell a chocolate-covered donut with sprinkles used to be. A gap that is calling for you, your destiny, to be food, to be eaten... [[Resist|Kitchen/Living Room]] [[Become a donut]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

It looks so cozy in there, snuggled up with the other donuts, being fresh, sweet and soft, being delicious, being desired. You find yourself drooling, barely aware of the flush of sensitivity and need growing inside you, flowing along your skin. Your clothes feel unbearable against your changing body, and you struggle out of them as Aleki looks you over curiously. You clamber naked over the table, and look intensely at the donuts, feeling a deep, powerful kinship with them. Your flesh starts to grow soft, your insides gurgling as your bones and organs are slowly replaced by fluffy, light dough. Your skin feels a little crispy, turning a gentle brown as the sweet scent of fresh donut surrounds you. There's a sweetness and flavour growing in your mouth, and you feel compelled to surrender to it. You moan, pleasure growing inside you as you lie down on the table and feel your cock grow engorged and needy. Your hips buck with orgasmic bliss as thick chocolate sauce gushes from your cock, splattering over your chest, your face, your limbs. Aleki steps back in alarm, not wanting to end up dragged along with you as a fellow donut. Once you are fully covered in the slowly-hardening chocolate, you feel a growing need to taste it yourself. You bend over, your body soft and flexible, and take your own cock into your mouth. It tastes wonderful - YOU taste wonderful. As you press your head between your own legs, you start to merge with your crotch, your limbs merging into your body, your whole form curling up into a ring, a ring of delicious baked chocolate-covered donut. Bit by bit you shrink as you delight in your change, sprinkles appearing on your glossy chocolate coating, before your body instinctively rolls up and hops into the slot in the box that is your new home. Aleki stands up, looking at you with suspicion, before cracking a grin. "Damn, you want to be mine so bad you want me to eat you? Fine by me", he snarls. He sits down and reaches forward, picking you up in his thick, dark fingers. Being held fills you with trembling desire, a knowledge that soon you will be eaten, serve your purpose. Aleki opens his mouth, revealing his broad, flat teeth and huge tongue. You are pressed into them, and he bites down. It isn't painful, instead it is utterly orgasmic. Feeling him pull away parts of you, slowly chew you and mash you up, and then swallow you. You feel part of you flowing down into him, and you can sense it as he blushes hotly, shuddering and drooling, succumbing to your supernatural deliciousness. "F-fuck...", he moans. Drool soaks his chin as he shoves the rest of you into his mouth, sucking on his fingers, moaning and shuddering. His cock starts to throb, stretching against the bulge in his uniform. You feel yourself flowing down inside him, a joyful sense of duty filling you. Then, with a slightly smug "blink" sound, you re-appear in your place in the donut box. [[Life as endless donuts]]

The gigantic black boots are bigger than any that a human would have worn before the Rift, their rubbery black material coated on the outside with a thick plating of plastic-like armour. You can almost picture the weight, scent and feeling of Aleki's gigantic feet inside them... [[Resist|Kitchen/Living Room]] [[Become Aleki's boots]] <<set $endingsseen to $endingsseen+1>> <<if $endingsseen > 9>> It feels so close now, an understanding that has been gradually growing. Are you really an enchanted object? You could become one, but you feel like you're missing something. You're like them but not quite. You are pretending to be them. Your true self... You feel an odd desire to check on Aleki. <<elseif $endingsseen > 6>> Somehow you can no longer see an object without feeling kinship to it. They are like you. You know how they feel. You know how to be them, and why you would want to. You can copy them. You can use it to...fulfil the hunger... You shake it off, unsure what you were thinking. <<elseif $endingsseen > 3>> The sensation of need is becoming familiar. The desire to change, to see an object and know how to be just like it, to love being it. It's almost like you're already changing inside. <</if>>

Your body flushes with an intense and overwhelming sensation of both sensitivity and need. It's almost unbearable, and before you know it you find yourself ripping off your shirt and struggling out of your pants to be free of the horrible over-sensitivity of touching your clothes. Aleki sees your actions and is momentarily confused. "Is this how it happens?", he snorts. He looks around, trying to figure out what triggered your change, until he looks down at his enormous boots and his face stretches into a nasty grin of realisation. As you strip down, he reaches down and unfastens the many buckles and straps of his combat boots. He slowly pulls them down, grunting with effort as they slip free bit by bit, revealing his utterly gigantic, brown-skinned feet. Steam gushes from the top of his boots, and your eyes lock down on his foot, seeing the sweat dripping down his broad muscular soles, the sight of his huge short toes, his black toenails. They're very nearly human, but the skin of his soles is darker and tougher than human skin, and the top of his feet is covered by the short fluffy fur of his bovine body. Once he's free from both, he props up his feet on the couch. You crawl forward, drawn to his steaming, musky, massive and heavy feet. You need to surround them, to protect them. You need to feel his weight crushing down on you as you support him, like good boots should. You barely notice as he drawns his gun-wand and adjusts it. "Hold person", he says to it as it clicks into place. Before you can touch his feet and begin the change your body is screaming out for, you're suddenly surrounded by faint light, and unable to move. Aleki watches you with a smirk, his eyes locked on you as you struggle and moan. "I have heard it's painful, being prevented from changing once it starts", he says slowly. Your whole body aches, your mind growing increasingly deranged as all you can think of is your owner's feet. "I got told that the harder the change is, the longer it goes without being satisfied, the more the mind gets crushed. That if you change quick and easy you can still talk, think, basically be a person. I don't want you to be a person", he says. He stands up, stepping over you and holding his foot over your face. You need it, you want it, you crave it. A drop of sweat lands on your forehead and drips down. "I want you to be mine. My boots. My OBJECT. No thoughts. No resistance. A tool for me to use, to abuse. Nothing left of you but absolute worship and obedience." He leans closer, and you think you'll be able to touch him, to start the change, but instead he steps away. He dials in on his radio. "Have begun initiation of target. I'd like to report and fill in the paperwork before I take him in", he says. You can barely believe it. You can barely understand it. Every part of you hurts, like you've been trapped mid-sneeze. You can't finish your change, and your mind is falling apart. As Aleki slowly and patiently fills in his report, the words start to lose meaning. You start to forget who you are, what you are. You can see his bare feet, and you know you need them, but you lose track of everything else, all other thoughts, meaning or sensation. Eventually he steps back towards you. He flicks his wand, and you collapse to the floor. Then his foot crushes down on your head, hard, cruel and deliberately painful. You barely care, though. Your body flows around his massive feet, your flesh immediately flushing and turning dark, glossy and black. With a tug of his legs, your body stretches out, then splits in two, letting you flow up over him from both feet, wrap around his ankles, feel his toes and his soles inside you. You start to settle in place, only to be interrupted as he slams his feet against the floor as hard as he can. Your change is interrupted, painfully. You flop and ooze, then gather your strength and begin to flow up again. Then he does it again. And again. Each time you lose more of yourself, hurt more, struggle more to finish your change, throwing everything you are into it. He finally lets you surround his feet and slide up along his legs. Your body thickens, your soles bulging and swelling into massive, heavy treads that can support his crushing weight. Your rubbery flesh is already growing warm inside with his musky, humid sweat, which fills you with blissful adoration. You feel a bubbling on your rubbery form, as plates of plastisteel begin to appear, white and glossy. They coat you like an exoskeleton, adding support and defense to your owner. You are his boots. You must protect him. You belong to him. He has given you the joyful, wonderful bliss of letting you be owned by him. You owe him everything. He grins, his pants tenting. "I can feel it. Fuck, this is where I always wanted you. Never saying no to me again. Existing for me. Lucky you." All you can think about is those massive, muscular hairy brown feet inside you, where they belong. [[Life as boots]]

You can feel it so closely now. You almost understand, the true thing that the Rift wants you to be. A monster, one feared, infamous, dangerous. One you've never heard anyone say before. Your tongue slips out for a moment, and you turn away before Aleki can see. You can feel something now, see a room of treasure and gold, and almost picture a wooden chest sitting among it. Tempting. Delightful. Full of goodies. Waiting for an adventurer to get close, to open you. To see your TEETH. [[You are a mimic!]] [[This isn't what I want to be!|Kitchen/Living Room]]

You can feel yourself start to change as you accept it, understand it at last. Your body creaks, and all you have to do is picture it to make it happen. The desire to become an object is the desire to understand and recreate it, one you can call on at will. You can be any object you want, switch from one to the other, be Pete's weights one day, Shanks's skateboard the next. All the world of objects are your kin. But first, you need to settle into your base form. The one that's been calling you all this time. With an intense feeling of bliss, your skin turns wooden and gnarled, your body becoming heavy, blocky, wide. Your eyes slide together, merging, turning shiny and brass as you find yourself looking at the world through a keyhole. Your teeth stretch and grow, your tongue becoming gigantic, wet and slimy. You fall to the ground with a heavy thump, getting bigger and bigger, brass corners forming on your edges, a gleam of wood polish on your sides. You are one handsome treasure chest, and no mistake. You feel something in your throat, and cough up a few gold coins and pearls, instinctively knowing somehow they're a lure to bring in your prey. The growing desire to eat people is a bit alarming, but you know you can resist it if you want to. It's fun, and delicious, but you don't actually NEED it. It's then that you realise Aleki is panicking, and has stood up and pointed his wand at you. He's yelling something or other about not resisting while he takes you into custody, which you hadn't really noticed in the blissful pleasure of your change into your true self. He's standing so close. His beefy body looks so...tasty. You really just can't resist... [[Eat! That! Meat!]]

Your tongue lashes out before Aleki can react, and wraps around his leg. He yelps, dropping his gun-wand and scrambling as you drag him into your maw. His fists bang against your wooden flank, but you're a hell of a lot stronger than you look. Fuck is he tasty. As you drag him into your maw, you can feel him being forced into a sort of gap in the back of your chest-throat, a spatial void you control, tight and wet and slick. He's like the best hamburger you ever had, juicy and thick and musky and warm. His fingers grip the edges of your lid as he swears, threatens, roars and struggles, but it's no use. Your lid slams shut, and you feel him dragged down into your extradimensional belly, curled up, helpless and oh so tasty. You can't help but let out a little burp. It's strange feeling how your mentality has changed with the acceptance of your new form. You wonder if this is what it was like for Pete and Shank, their bodies giving them new instincts. Part of you really does want to keep Aleki in there, digest him, churn him down. You're a bit curious to find out what will happen to him when you do. You can't exactly just let him go. You get the feeling mimics don't have a great reputation in a city run by a dragon who lives in a literal treasure hoard. On the other hand though, you're starting to understand how your magical digestion works. You might be able to juuuust digest a few thoughts, memories and bad habits before you spit Aleki back out. [[Digest that jerk]] [[Be a merciful mimic]]

It's hard to say he doesn't deserve it. On top of being a really bad boyfriend, since joining the Enforcers he'll have been part of oppressing and hurting magical creatures all over the city. You relax into your instincts, and ignore the struggling and pounding of Aleki in your magical stomach. Gradually his struggles relax, and then stop. It feels great, you can sense his experience, strength and magic all flowing into your body as you absorb it, draining him of all the value he can offer. Eventually you feel there's nothing left to take, and you open your lid and spit something up. It lands with a wet splat in a puddle of your drool, and you lean over to take a closer look. It's a gold trophy of a flexing naked minotaur that looks just like Aleki, atop a base that says "World's Worst Boyfriend". Somehow you can tell he's still in there, frozen and stiff, showing off those muscles he is so proud of. Guess he'll get a taste of what it's like being an object after all. [[Life as your true self]]

It's deeply tempting to give Aleki a well-deserved bad ending, but you don't want to entirely succumb to the mentality of being a mimic. Instead you probe him in your stomach, which feels a bit like poking something with your tongue. You can understand all the things he has as if they were statistics in an RPG. His level, class, his stats, even his memories. Being bullied growing up, shoved around by his family, his self-loathing, insecurity and anger issues that cause him to lash out. Huh. Seeing it all laid out like this, you feel like you understand him a lot better. That, and you really don't feel like you can just eat him now. Instead you suck on his recent memories, erasing his knowledge of your mimic form. The taste is quite nice, fresh and juicy. New memories are a bit like a fresh fruit only just plucked. It's hard to stop, and before you know it you're digging a bit deeper. His self-hatred is an intense taste a little like aniseed, offputting and strong, but not bad once you get used to it. His mental walls are like peanut brittle. His trauma is kind of nasty, like marmite. Not a fan of those. Even so you lick up just a bit, and oddly you feel him relax, followed by his mind filling the gaps with guilt about his job and the bad things he's done. You take a taste of those (guilt tastes like overcooked onions), just leaving enough to not break his mind too much. Then you spit him out. Aleki lands with a dazed expression, and stumbles over onto the couch. He barely notices you, or even seems to remember why he was here at all. After a while he gets up and leaves, and you wonder what kind of person he's going to become once he gathers his thoughts together. [[Life as your true self|Life as your true self2]]

When Pete and Shank come down and discover you, they react with immediate panic at the sight of a fanged treasure chest. It seems like fear of mimics is engrained pretty deep in the instincts of magical creatures. After a quick chat though, they both calm down and seem to accept that you're not actually going to eat them. "Is that gold real?", Shank asks. He doesn't reach out to get it though, his eyes fixated on your massive tongue. "Can you shift into other things? I have heard that mimics are not locked in to their chest forms", Pete says curiously. You focus for a moment, and your body flows like a liquid, reshaping into a beanbag chair surrounded by fabric teeth, with a big felt tongue flopped out at the front. You may need some practice. Pete seems impressed though. "How about a treadmill? I've always wanted an automated one", he says cheerfully. His previous concerns seem to have vanished entirely. You focus, and shift again, this time becoming a black treadmill...with a gaping fanged void at the backside of it, and the tread itself being your tongue. Pete claps his hands with delight. "Incredible! Training worthy of a warrior!", he says. Shank looks at him like he's insane. Pete hops on you and starts jogging, his bare feet plapping on your tongue, while Shank seems to accept that this is just life now, and plops on the couch and puts the TV on. Eventually he gets some popcorn, and tosses a few pieces into your maw while Pete exercises. You've become an object, but you've retained your freedom. This feels like it was your destiny after all, able to become any of the things that you were so drawn to being, but trying them out whenever you want. You're not Pete and Shank's belonging, but their roommate even now. Through the next few days you try out everything, delighting in scaring Shanks by being the carpet outside his room, working with Pete by being his drooling and fanged combat dummy, being the couch during movie night (Shank sits on the floor). You even try out more intimate things. Pete has grown extremely fond of you and seems to have no fear of your intimidating presence, and when you turn into a wrestling singlet for him and stretch around his body, he loves it. You taste his sweaty firm muscles inside you, and can't resist tonguing his crotch and backside, which he seems to not mind at all. Eventually even Shank gets used to you. When you turn into his skateboard and he shows you off to his friends, they admit you're the sickest thing ever. A fanged skateboard with glowing eyes is a goblin's dream come true. The real test though is when you wait for him on his bed as a fleshlight. With teeth. He stares at you nervously, your tongue waiting for him, until he decides to throw caution to the wind and plow your tight, rubbery hole. Around six months after your change, once you're really settled in, there's an unexpected visitor. You almost don't recognise the minotaur at the door - he has a soft and friendly expression, a round belly, and is wearing a purple anime hoodie. He stammers nervously when Pete invites him in, and it gradually dawns on you who it is. Aleki has changed a lot. He quit his job and now works at a pet shelter. He's started letting himself enjoy the things he really likes without feeling ashamed of them not being tough or manly, and it turns out deep down he was an anime and manga nerd. Pete doesn't reveal that you're there, watching the whole thing as the front doormat, but when Aleki is making a cup of tea (he likes tea now?), he walks over to you and whispers asking if you'll turn into a big plush toy. You do so, flowing into the shape of a grinning and fanged teddy bear with a big tongue. Pete picks you up and places you on the couch. When Aleki returns, he seems giddy, and strokes your head then pulls you in close, nuzzling and cuddling you. His tight squeeze feels incredibly good, and you can sense a deep comfort and safety that you're giving him. It's bizarre, and you almost can't believe this is the same guy who once called you a lisping princess because he saw you watching a cartoon. "Hey Pete, what's this plushie here? Something about it...I dunno, I feel this weird desire to just thank him and cuddle him and love on him forever", Aleki says. His hand strokes over your belly. Pete just chuckles, keeping your secret for now. Maybe you'll think about giving Aleki a second chance, maybe not. For now though, you're getting cuddles on the couch, Shank is bringing popcorn, Pete has set up the surround sound, and there's a movie about to start. Being a mimic is the best.

You are not fully aware of who or what you are. Your memories of your old life are gone completely, and you don't even understand the concept that you COULD have a life before. What you do know is that you are an object, and you have an owner. That is all that matters. Every moment that you feel your owner's gigantic feet inside you is a moment that things are right, and good. Pleasure fills you with each step he takes, his body's gigantic weight crushing down on you, your plated and armored form protecting, supporting and helping him. He steps outside and gets into his car, and though you don't know what a car is or what a gas pedal is for, you feel a thrum of pleasure as he presses you down on the pedal. As he goes about his day you never question his actions or think you know better. You are just there to be under his feet, and do everything you can to support and worship him in every way. As the day wears on, you feel, smell and taste your master's sweat as his feet grow hot and steamy inside you. It is the only thing you could ever want, a delight for your every sense. Eventually he gets back to the station, and you feel him pull you off. Being empty, unworn, is a cold, lonely and sad situation, but at least your owner is still holding you. He's saying something, but you don't understand or care about human language. "Can you scan these for me? Let me know if you detect any sentience or personality", he says. The kobold behind the glass takes you and swings a wand over you, then investigates an orb and adjusts his glasses. "Hmm, nope. Minimal readings on all my counts. These look like brand new enchanted boots, good statistics all around but not alive in any way I can detect", he says. Aleki grunts and adjusts his crotch. "So they could never be turned back? They're just an object forever?", he says with a shudder. The kobold raises a scaly eyebrow. "Nope. I wouldn't have even known there was a 'back' for them to turn into if you hadn't said so", he says. Aleki nods and takes you back, and you internally feel a rush of joy as his foot re-enters you. "Open up the training ground for me. Poison swamp, extra biting crocodiles, add thorns and sharp rocks", he says. The kobold looks at him like he's crazy. "Brand new boots and you're putting them through that?", he asks. Aleki nods. "Yeah. I can do whatever I want to him now", he says. You feel a rush of sadistic joy flow through your owner as he leans against a wall. Something drips down his leg into you as he lets out a low bellow, and you realise your master just had an orgasm in his pants. He must really be happy to own you. Being boots is the most wonderful thing there is.

You look up at Aleki, who is coming down from the high of eating you. Crushing need fills his face as he realises there's no more of you to eat - followed by intense relief when he sees you've reformed. He scrambles for you, picking you up and biting down on you again. You let him savour you, fill him with joy, and accept that you are fulfilling your duty again. His mouth worships you, chews and swallows you, and then he's picking you up again, and again. Ten devourings later, Aleki is panting and gasping, your chocolate smeared over his fingers and his face. He reaches for you, but manages to resist. Sweat drips down his face as he gets up, only to groan and end up adjusting the buckle on his belt. You're very high calorie. It feels like a point of pride. You should be sweet, addictive and filling, after all. Being a donut feels right, it feels like finding your place in a way you never understood before. Aleki closes the box you're in, and you feel him carry you out and drive back to the station. To his credit, he only stops to eat you again twice on the way. Over the next few weeks and months, you get to know Aleki's mouth as intimately as you possibly can. You are there for him in the morning, a temptation on his desk urging him to start his day with sweetness and a coffee. You are there on his breaks, at lunch, waiting for him before he goes home. Each day his resistance to you gets weaker, and he eats more of you. Bit by bit each time you respawn, you feel more and more secure in yourself as a donut, more happy in your role and more eager to be eaten again. The change in Aleki is more dramatic. It starts with him failing his physicals from the extra weight he's gained. The other Enforcers start to tease and mock him for his growing extra chin and hefty belly. Eventually he can't fit in the armour, and is ordered off active duty and onto desk work until he shapes up. You don't let that happen, of course. You sit right there on the desk, tempting him every day. He gets softer and rounder, the cruel and harsh angles of his face over time becoming softened and pudgy. Getting fatter seems to bring out a different side of him. He stops snapping at the other officers, instead becoming meek and shy. During downtime at his desk job you see him reading manga under his desk, or watching music videos on his phone. That's not the only thing that he does at his desk, of course. His addiction to you has grown into something more intense, more erotic. Each time he sees you, you can tell he's tenting a little in his pants at the thought of tasting you again. Eventually his need grows so bad that one day while the other Enforcers are away, he strips out of uniform, lies back in his chair, and slowly strokes himself as he savours and chews on you. When he swallows you, he moans and adds a stream of thick cum from his throbbing cock into the mess of sprinkles on his bare belly. His scores at the physicals grow worse and worse, but oddly enough his scores at communication and deskwork skyrocket. It's like you're filling him with sweetness, or bringing out some hidden side of him. He can't stop losing the manly tough side of him that you're turning to soft pudge, and now that he has to give up on that, it's like a dam has come out. That's not the only thing that comes out, though. One day he's called to the locker room, only to see a whole group of the other enforcers, all naked. Muscular tigermen, bulging orcs, grinning werewolves. All of them have a donut around their cocks. "You think we didn't see you on the camera, butterball?", one wolf says. Aleki is passed around from man to man, eating the donuts, licking cream and chocolate from their cocks. He swallows the cock of a massive wolfman while an orc pounds his huge round backside, and a lizardman nuts over his back. The orgy lasts almost an hour, and the other Enforcers all make sure to tell him what a great plaything he is. Aleki starts getting friendlier, he encourages the other Enforcers to be more kind and understanding with the public. He stops being ashamed of his hobbies and needs, and he stops being ashamed of his growing body. All the more so when he starts posting pics of himself online, and discovers that there's a big world out there and some parts of that world love to see a big round furball in uniform. The other Enforcers still struggle to change, but you made sure your owner was as addictive as you. They can't help but adore their favourite butterball, want to toy with him every day, and want to make him happy. The entire department gradually becomes a strange sort of harem as your influence and power spreads. Eventually he's even moved to the front desk, being the first friendly, chubby face people see. The reputation of the Enforcers starts to get better, and you're right there for all of it, his constant companion, addiction and vice. You are his donut, and he is your sweet, gentle butterball minotaur. And the two of you are regularly cream-filled.

You feel a rush of sensation flow unexpectedly through your body. Could this be the change? It doesn't match what you expected, you had thought people didn't become anything they owned themselves. Are you turning into one of your own shirts? You pull off your t-shirt and wriggle out of your underwear as your skin starts to grow too hot and sensitive to handle touching your clothes. As you do though, you see something that makes you almost jump with delight. Fur! You're growing fur! All over your skin you can feel a tingly prickling as grey fur starts to grow on every inch of your naked body. You don't know what you're becoming, but maybe there was a mistake, maybe you're not an object after all. You could be a werewolf, or a rakshasha, or any one of many other kind of creatures. There's something weird about the fur though. It looks strangely glossy, and as you run your fingers through your tingling bellyfur, it feels smooth and unnatural. The fur on your belly is pale off-white, while your hands and feet are turning black, and the rest of you seems to be grey. You walk over to the mirror, your body feeling weirdly heavy and saggy. Moving your limbs is hard, and you feel light and soft and empty inside. With a shudder you feel a pleasurable tingly sensation down your inner thigh and your armpits, and when you look there you see...stitching. You look in the mirror and see your face changing, growing bigger and wider. Your mouth stretches into a forced smile as your mouth and nose bulge out into a muzzle, your nose becoming large, shiny and black. Your eyes grow wide and round, and you can't change your expression at all. Markings form around your eyes, and you realise you look like some sort of cartoon raccoon, your unrealistic proportions matched by your growing hands and feet. You feel a bulging at your backside, and turn to see it swelling, growing and expanding out into a striped tail that flops to the ground like a heavy beanbag. As you turn though, your head sways alarmingly. You get dizzy, stumbling, and then panic as you feel your head literally fall off. Your vision is thrown off as your head rolls along the ground, leaving you looking up at your own headless body. Where your head connected to your neck you can see a hole, and that your own insides are hollow, lined with some sort of soft shiny material. You shudder with pleasure as a zipper starts to form down your belly, seeing your body wriggle with delight, while your own cock shrinks and disappears. Then your hands fall off, landing on the ground, followed by your torso collapsing helplessly. You can only wait, helpless on the ground in pieces. Nothing but a friendly-looking raccoon fursuit. [[Shank finds you]]

You wait for hours before someone finally enters your room. The door creaks open and you hear Shank's familiar sarcastic voice. "Yo man, you in here? Did you already change into a condom or some shit?", the goblin says as he steps inside, only for his bare foot to land right on your chest. You feel a strange energy, a sensation flowing from you into Shank. He pants, getting dizzy and clutching his head. His shorts are pushed down by his own growing erection as you feel a bond forming with the horny little goblin. You need someone to wear you. Not just an owner, but someone who has a connection to you, someone who needs you. You aren't just their suit, you're their fursona. As the connection hits, you begin to change. Your grey fur turns a mossy green. Your blank smile becomes a cocky grin, your fabric teeth becoming bigger and yellower. A scruff of olive-green hair appears on your head, one of your ears becomes tattered, and a musky scent of cum and lust begins to flow around you. Shank looks down at you, pre dripping from his cock, and seems to realise what happened. "Did you just make me a goddamn furry, dude? Not cool! Goddamnit...I think your name is gonna be...Cumster." Cumster, yes. The sleazy, cock-obsessed green raccoon punk slut. Shank pulls off his clothes, his unwashed body and throbbing cock calling to you. He pulls up your torso, stepping into your zipper. You can feel his sweaty naked body inside you, your suit self touching him everywhere, surrounding him as he slides his arms into yours, his legs down your own, zipping you up over his throbbing cock. As he does, a pouch forms in your crotch with two buttons, subtle enough to not be noticed at first glance, but marking you very clearly to those in the know as the murrsuit you are. He slides his clawed feet into your puffy fabric ones, and you feel him wiggling your pudgy toes. He puts on your hands, and fingerless gloves and fabric versions of spiked armbands appear as he wears you. A sleeveless denim vest appears over your chest. FInally he picks up your head, and shoves you over his own. You feel the connection growing, able to feel everything Shank does, your desires and needs merging. You are his fursona, his creation, and he is your owner. When he moves it feels like he's puppeting your body, and your whole form trembles with lust. --- One month later, you and Shank walk into a familiar adults-only furcon. You feel his boner already straining against your fabric, his precum dribbling down your insides. Furries still exist post-Rift - the only big difference is that some of the people in fursuits are fantastical creatures, and that some of the visitors are real werewolves or cerberuses. "Hey, it's Cumster!", a red panda fursuiter says happily. You and Shank point some finger guns at him, and a copper-coloured dog fursuit puts an arm around his shoulder, then sniffs a spot on his back. "Cumster, dude, do you ever wash that thing? I can smell my nut on you from last week", the dog says with a chuckle. "Nah, I'm a musk slut", Shank says. It doesn't take long before you and him are retiring to a hotel room filled with your new friends that you've gotten to know very intimately over the past month. It takes even less time before your fursuit mouth is open, Shank's throat being pounded by a girthy cock that's protruding from the hole in a bear fursuit, while your crotch flap hangs open so that a hefty actual pig-man pounds and stretches Shank's ass. You can feel it all as if it's happening to you, pleasure overwhelming you. Shank's orgasm rolls through your fabric body, filling you with bliss as he splatters the hotel carpet with goblin nut, right as the two guys filling him groan and unload their own hot, heavy cum, adding to the many many loads already dripping from Shank's well-pounded backside. "Fuck...need a break...give me...", Shank tries to say. You're not having that though. You are a MAGICAL fursuit, and when Shank's subconscious defined his fursona, it was of a ravenous and literally insatiable cumslut. It is easy for you to assume control, taking hold of his voice to ensure he stays in character and doesn't spoil the magic. "Give me both of those at the same time, really stretch my racchole!", you say with glee, as you point your pudgy fursuit hand at a naked chubby shark guy sitting shyly in the corner. He blushes, adjusting his glasses but nodding. Internally Shank groans, but it's a groan of lust and need. You know what he wants, and you're going to make him get it. You've fucked around a quarter of the gay furries in the city this month, and you think if you make your owner really go for it, you can get that number up to at LEAST seventy percent. Being a fursuit is the absolute best.

Having the change drawn out like that, breaking your body and mind, has left you dizzy, confused and forgetful. You are only vaguely aware that you are even a person at all, and you have no memory of your former self. All you know is the round shape of Aleki's cheeks in front of you, the feeling of your face as his hole, the knowledge you are a part of him. You feel him pulling his uniform back on, and the tight material slides over you, dropping you into a hot, humid and sweaty darkness. When he returns to his patrol car and sits down, you feel his entire weight pressed down onto you, like you're being crushed under his ass. Your entire sensory experience is heat, taste and scent, the minotaur's rank musk filling every part of your scrambled brain. All you can do is sit there, dripping with sweat, as he continues his day in the hot summer sun. At one point he grabs some spicy takeout, and you feel an alarming gurgling deep inside you. Eventually he returns to the station, and you hear him walking through and doing his report. There's a clopping of hooves, and a cocky voice says "Oh you're back Aleki. Weren't you visiting your boyfriend? Did he plow that fat ass of yours?" Mocking laughter follows that, and you clench with Aleki's anger. "Call me a faggot one more time O'Neill, watch me break all four of your legs and drag you to the glue factory!", Aleki yells. He heads to the locker room, stripping down and freeing you for a moment to look around you, seeing the benches, lockers and sight of the other Enforcers undressing. He steps past them, heading to a quiet corner with a mirror, He bends over, snapping a photo of himself and then looking at it. You feel his cock twitch, and he reaches down and strokes it slightly. "Fuck, there's nearly nothing of you left. Everything you are is gone, bitch. Nothing but my hole, my shitter. Your whole existence is for my ass. You'll never be anything else, there's just me now. Fuck, the only downside is you're not something I can torture and beat up." His fingers stroke over you, his nails scratching his ass as he grins and growls with lust. "Look close at yourself, asshole. See that? That's right, nothing there but my round furry butt and my black hole. You are my ass. Accept it, give up. You belong under me, and that's where you ended up. I always wanted you to eat my shit after we split, and I never thought I'd get to put you in your place this good." The remains of your mind swims and swirls as you stare into the mirror, seeing nothing but the minotaur's massive beefy ass. Sweat drips down you, musk and stink surrounds you. This is what you are. This is all you are. You let everything else fade away, just the knowledge of your place in the world, and the dark, hot, intense feeling of Aleki's victorious satisfaction. "Don't expect anything you'd consider "fun", either. I'm strict dom top", he says with a flex, before heading to the shower and washing up. The soapy bubbles and water wash over you, clearing some of the heady steamy stink of Aleki's ass that is your constant companion. His belly gurgles again, and he walks over into a separate room where you see urinals and stalls. You feel a pressure deep inside you, and a sense of dread washing over you. He shoves open a door and sits down, his weight crushing down on you as you hang over a bowl of toilet water. That's when you feel the pressure, the straining, your body stretching open and your mouth gaping wide as something thick, foul and horrible pushes through you. As you suffer under him, pushing out his waste, Aleki moans in delight and strokes his cock, grunting and straining as he thinks of your misery and discomfort. "I fucking win, loser. This is your life from now on, and you're never escaping me", he says with a shudder as he sprays the cubicle wall with hot, dripping ropes of cum.