Friday, November 11, 2011

Accept your places, bois.

I modified this picture with almost no idea what the caption was going to be.  I didn't know if I was going to use it in an OBU caption or one of the Reparations captions.  I just made a background, and started writing.   What came out was an OBU caption.  Anyway, I like the caption, and I hope you do too.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Former Athletes: Craig Hester

I love writing about these former athletes.  There's just something about the machismo associated with male athletics that makes it incredibly fun to explore how they would react when confronted with the loss of their masculinity. 

This particular photo was fun to play with because the fabric on the swimsuit made it difficult to remove the breasts.  I also like this caption because it shows a character who made the best of a hard situation.

Wednesday, November 9, 2011

The Cure

This is probably one of the best caption/photo manipulations I've done so far.  It's not that either part is terrific by themselves; it's the combination of the two that makes it one of my favorites. 

I've talked a little about the "cure" which was made available after scientists were able to study the research recovered in the "David Jones" story, but I've never really gone into any details about it.  This caption does. 

I hope you all like it as much as I enjoyed making it.

Also, I've mentioned over at the Feminization Station, but I haven't really talked about it here much.  As noted in a previous post, I have begun to transfer my captions/picture stories to Imagefap.  It's going well, so far, and I've actually gained a few fans (200 and counting).  But I wanted to let you all know that, while they aren't set in the Omar Bell Universe, many of my other galleries contain captions in a similar vein to what you see here.  I mention this because I think that many of my recent (non-OBU) captions are some of the best photo manipulations I've done.  If you like that sort of thing (and chances are that if you're at this site, you do), give those galleries a look.  I think you all will probably like them.

The history of that "world" is this:

In 2002, a Reparations Bill was passed (only in the United States) which required white Americans to pay an extra tax which would then be redistributed to the descendents of former slaves.  At first, it wasn't a terribly invasive tax -- a measly 1% of earnings.  In 2004, though, that 1% became 5%.  In 2008, it became 15%.  By 2012, white Americans were only bringing home about 25% of their earnings (after the Reparations and normal income taxes).  This led to a dramatic shift in socioeconomic status. 

As we all know, money drives politics.  It's always been like that.  Usually, the candidate with the most money wins.  With the country's wealth migrating from white Americans to black (or other minorities) Americans, so did the political landscape change.  By 2015, only 15% of our Congress was white.  In addition, we hadn't had a white president in three terms. 

In 2016, a controversial bill was introduced into Congress which would, in effect, make white Americans second class citizens.  Here is an excerpt from the congressman who introduced the bill (named Hector Robinson - from Georgia):

"For two-hundred years, we were slaves.  Not second-class citizens -- slaves.  We had no free-will at all.  What we are proposing is that the descendents of the people responsible pay for that atrocity.  No, we won't make them slaves.  We're not cruel.  We simply want justice."

He didn't need to be eloquent.  He was preaching to the converted.  The law passed without much opposition.  Even the few remaining white members of congress voted for its passage.  Such was the power of white guilt.

But what did that law do, exactly?  It wasn't complicated; it simply took away their right to vote.

They didn't stop there, however.  In 2017, another law was passed which established Reparations Days.  In these days (about 8 every month), white Americans could not, by law, refuse an order from a black (or other minority) person.  It's still unknown whether they intended for it to be sexual in nature, but soon, these Reparations Days were characterized by legally mandated temporary sexual slavery.

By 2018, the number of Reparations Days were doubled.  By 2019, they were abolished, and a new set of laws were put into place.  Effectively, these new laws made white Americans slaves.  They weren't collared or put to work in fields or anything.  No, they were simply required by law to obey black men and women. 

Again, this obedience usually manifested itself in a sexual way.  By 2020, another series of laws were passed which dictated white behavior.  Looking at it from our perspective, some seem silly, but one has to understand that, by this time, white Americans had been driven toward subservience for almost 20 years.  I won't get into specifics here (some are outlined in my captions), but suffice it to say that most were sexual in nature.

Then, a strange (or not so strange, when you think about it) trend began to manifest.  Many white men began living as white women.  The rationale was this:  white women often had easier lives than white men.  Some had even developed relationships with black men.  These white men wanted an easier life, and so, became known as Femboys.

By 2023, over half of all white men had become Femboys. 

In 2024, a new (predominantly black) political party emerged.  They claimed that the Reparations Laws were unfair and immoral.  They said that the taxes imposed on white Americans, going back to 2002, were wrong and should be repealed.  They said that America needed to get back to equality.

Over the following two years, that party (called the Equality Party) gained ground until they became the dominant party.  In late 2026, the Reparations Laws (and the preceding taxes) were repealed, leaving all Americans on equal footing.

The damage, though, had been done.  The white man, in effect, was gone.  Even those who hadn't lived as Femboys had no doubt serviced black men and women.  Their masculinity was gone.  And women knew it. 

About that time, the government started publishing the results of a series of tests and experiments they had commissioned.  These results said one basic thing:  white men were not really men at all.  Rather, they were closer to women than men, but still somewhere between the two.  They backed up the claim with statistics, test results, and logic.

And they accepted it.  Over half the white male population already lived as Femboys; most had never really known any other life.  That they were never really men made sense to them. 

The government began a propaganda campaign that said that white boys were never really men, and that only cultural pressure and societal influence made them think differently.  White boys were naturally feminine, and ideally, belonged with men as their sexual partners.  The government said that they were free to be what nature intended; they were free to be as feminine as they wanted.

By 2029, the propaganda (or they would say the white boys' nature) had begun to exert its influence.  The term "Femboy" had been dropped, and all white males were simply referred to as white boys.  Over 70% had accepted the government's claims as true, and that number was rising.

By 2031, white boys and women were nearly indistinguishable from one another (except for their genitals).  Most white boys had breasts (hormones or surgery), and the number of white boys who preferred women as their sexual partners was more akin to the number of homosexuals (in our reality) in a given population.

Some conspiracy theorists claim that in 2013, scientists had developed an undetectable chemical which would alter the growth patterns of any who were injected with it at birth.  The alteration would result in a much smaller, less muscular person than if the subject had not received that injection. 

The theory is that, since 2015 or so, most (if not all) white males had been injected with that chemical, which resulted in a smaller, more feminine body shape. 

This theory has gained traction in recent years because the white male does indeed seem to be shrinking.  In 2002, the average white male was 5'8" and 156 lbs.  In 2032, the average white male is 5'5" and 135 lbs. 

Those same theorists claim that everything, including the Reparations Laws, the taxes, the repeal of the Reparations laws, the propaganda, and the mystery "chemical" are all part of a larger plan to push white Americans out of power.

However, these conspiracy theorists are not seen in the best light.  Most people consider them crazy.

Anyway, if you'd like to see more in this world, you can find my galleries here: NIKKI J'S IR GALLERIES .

Thursday, November 3, 2011

He hasn't changed a bit (other than, you know, most everything)!

This picture was actually really difficult to get right, and it took me forever (or it seemed like it!).  But I think it turned out okay.

Over On Imagefap

I've decided to post my work over on my Imagefap profile ( NIKKI J'S IMAGEFAP PROFILE ) for a few reasons.  First, it gives me a backup so if I have computer problems, I can easily get the images back.  Second, I'd like to reach a broader audience. And finally, it will allow me to archive the individual images for my photo stories.  I'm going to spread the uploads (from this and The Feminization Station ) out over a couple of weeks, so be on the lookout.  If you're not my fan on Imagefap, please, go over there and show your support.


Monday, October 31, 2011

Changing Their Tunes.

I've had a couple of people ask me about something I've alluded to in my stories.  I haven't touched on it much, but I've mentioned that, in Mexico, there were riots in response to the Great Change.  I've talked about how the Great Change affects other races, so I won't get into that.  However, I have had people ask why these Mexicans rioted.  It's simple, really.  They were scared.  The U.S. government quickly put into place a program which pushed white bois toward acceptance.  The Mexican government, however, did not.  So Mexican bois were left alone with their fear and uncertainty.  They lashed out with rioting in Mexico city.  Does it make sense?  Not really.  But what riot does?  These sorts of things are about anger and fear; the actions are irrational because of that.  I know most of you don't visit my blog to read an essay about rioting, so I'll leave it at that.  I just wanted to clear that up.

Anyway, here's a new caption!

Sunday, October 16, 2011

I'm still just a regular guy! No, really! I am!

I like the way they've allowed for images to be shared on here.  The new way makes slideshows obsolete, so I probably won't be posting anymore.  Instead, I'll just post a series of photos and use the blog's built-in "slideshow" mechanic.  Anyway, enjoy the new one!

Friday, October 14, 2011

Just Friends

I've had this photo sitting on my hard drive for a while now, but I had just not gotten around to modifying it.  In the original, the model on the right had some pretty large breasts, and it took a lot of work to get that chest down to "boish" .  I think it turned out okay, though.

Saturday, October 8, 2011


Love this photo.

Tuesday, October 4, 2011

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Poll Results

This latest poll had similar results to what I had expected (especially for this site).  Part of it, I'm sure was affected by the fact that my posting lately has been a little sporadic.  Another part, I think, stems from the fact that these stories aren't terribly creative (outside of the world-building).  That's a problem I've been running into with writing them lately.  I just don't quite know where to go with them that isn't a rehash of something else I've already written.  I've tried to deviate from the "Great Change" stories with "A Cross to Bear" but I find that it's getting pretty far afield from erotica.  I feel like I'm kind of jamming a sex scene in there from time to time to keep it in the right genre.  And I don't blame those of you who wouldn't want to pay for the same stories told over and over.  Personally, I probably would, but that's because my kinks are very, very specific, and seeing the same thing over and over is unavoidable.

All of that said, here are the results:

There were twelve people who voted "Yes," but there were twenty-eight people who voted "No." 

For those of you who voted in the poll, I'd really like to hear if your reasons coincide with my expectations. 

Monday, September 26, 2011

Friday, September 23, 2011

Thursday, September 22, 2011

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Former Athletes -- Connor Shaw

I'm really enjoying doing this series of captions on former athletes.  Hope you all are too.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Because Bois Need Secrets Too

I've been thinking about doing a faux catalogue  cover for a while, but I just hadn't found a suitable photograph.  While this photo isn't perfect, I think it works pretty nicely.  Some of you may be wondering why the boi is topless.  Good question, and I'm glad you asked (having conversations with myself is a little strange, but whatever). 

After a brief time (around three years), the laws governing public nudity were adjusted to allow bois to go topless.  Chalk one up for bois' lib.  However, it is still considered slightly taboo, which adds a bit to the sexual edge of this advertisement.  And as we all know -- sex sells. 

Anyway, I don't think this is as good as my Absolut advertisement, but I'm still proud of it.  Hope you all like it.

Former Athletes -- Kris Greer

I've had this picture for a while, and it was actually the seed of the idea of a series of captions about former athletes.  Hope you all like it.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Former Athletes

I thought it would be kind of fun to do a series on former athletes.  Here is the first of a few I'll be doing over the next week or so.

A new poll

I'm a published author (under a different name, obviously). I've only had one published, but it sells pretty well, and I'm hard at work on two others which should be out within the year. I say this not because I want you all to go out and buy them (I won't even tell you my pen name), but rather to provide context.

I have friends who have been trying to persuade me to get out of my contract with my publisher as soon as possible, and to publish my books exclusively as ebooks. The rationale is that, while I would likely sell less copies, I would make almost five times as much per copy sold. Anyway, I'm not asking for your advice on that; it's a personal decision that I'm going to have to confront on my own.

No, the reason for this post is to solicit your opinions on erotic fiction. I know my work is on par with (or better than) most erotic fiction I've seen. So I ask -- would you pay for work similar to what you've seen on this and my other blog? Now, I'm not talking a fortune; I think 99 cents for an ebook of short stories is fair. For a full novel (like the three parts of my Tristan series), I'd probably charge 2.99.

My reasoning is this: I already get paid to write. Any time I take out to write these stories, enjoyable though it is, basically takes money out of my pocket. So is it wrong to explore an option to remedy that lack? I don't think so, but I'm not the person who has to make the decision here. It is you, as fans, who ultimately have the power, and I want your opinions. And so, a new poll has been put up to gauge your interest.

Thanks, and I hope you all continue to enjoy my blog (s).

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

My Other Slideshows

I plan to upload my other slideshows to scribd at some point, but I have an issue. I recently re-formatted my hard drive, and (because of some weird issue with my backup) I lost the older ones. I still have them saved as individual Jpegs, but it will take me a little time to put them back into slideshow format. So bear with me, and I'll get it done as soon as I'm able.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

One Last Test

I know I haven't been updating this blog as much as my other ( Feminization Station ).  I apologize for that.  However, it does take a little longer to make captions/pictories for this world simply because there is so much manipulation which has to be done to each photo.  That said, I'm going to try to update it a little more regularly than I have been.  I have the second part of "A Cross to Bear" almost done, and should post it soon.

Anyway, this photostory has been coming for a while.  I hadn't written it or anything, but I had this series of photos sitting on my hard drive for a while before I decided to go ahead and get something done.  I really like the premise, and I hope the pictory is enjoyable for you.

Thanks for reading!

Click here for fullscreen.

One Last Test

Saturday, September 3, 2011

He's just a little slow...

I actually started changing this photo for another caption, but when I finished it, I thought it fit the OBU quite well.  So, I went ahead and wrote  a caption for it, made a pretty background, and voila!  Hope you enjoy it.

Wednesday, August 31, 2011

The Results are In!

The results of the poll are in, and I'd like to thank each of you who voted.  Your feedback is most appreciated.  I'm sure some of you noticed that I put the poll on both of my blogs, and a lot of you probably even voted in both.  However, for the sake of expedience, I've combined the results.

25 people said that my stories are "Professional."  It came in second place (by one vote).  I was a bit surprised by this result (pleasantly) as I would have classified my writing as either "Good Amateur" or "Almost Professional."  That so many of you think so highly of my work is quite flattering. 

26 people said that my stories are "Almost Professional," making it the winner.  Again, this tells me that my writing has come a long way, and that I'm on the cusp of putting out some really good material.

12 people would classify my work as "Good Amateur," putting it in a distant third place.  Personally, this is where I would put my work.  I don't really spend any time editing or trying to polish any of it, so it lacks that little extra "oomph" to put it over the top.  However, I do believe that, with a little editing, many of my stories could be placed a notch or two higher.

Only 3 people classified my work as "Average."  This made it the second to last place finisher, and that's not altogether displeasing to me.  Call my stuff good or bad, but as long as you feel something for it (either negative or positive), I'm much happier than if you just forgot it altogether.

8 people classified my work as "Below Average."  That number was a little higher than I expected, but oh well.  If any of you who voted that way could tell me what you think makes it below average, I will do everything I can to improve it.  Either way, I thank you for your honesty.

And the stat I love most -- 0 people classified my work as "Bad."  That, readers, is music to my ears. 

Again, I'd like to thank you all for your votes, your honesty, and, most of all, for even reading these blogs.  I'll keep writing (sometimes more slowly than some would like) and captioning so long as people keep visiting my sites.

Tuesday, August 30, 2011


The release of the Omar Bell virus (or biological agent, if you prefer -- the world still isn't sure which it was, really) changed the world. Yes, that's why it's called the Great Change. But it went much farther than a simply altering the physical characteristics and mindsets of white males. Sure, that's where it began, but the effects were far-reaching and all encompassing.

For example, let's take a look at prostitution. Initially, it was thought that many bois, unable to physically perform their former jobs, would turn to the world's oldest profession. It made sense, at least on paper. Bois, with their heightened sexual needs (at first, their fluctuating hormone levels sent them into a state much like a female animal in heat), seemed a perfect fit. And at first, that was the case.

Over time, though, those bois garnered less and less interest. Simple math is the reason.

Men, by then, made up a little more than thirty percent of the country's population. Bois made up about twenty percent, and women made up the other fifty. Taking into account homosexuality (bois and women who preferred either other bois or women), that left men outnumbered nearly two to one. So they had their pick of sexual partners.

And so, over time, men quit paying for what was so readily available.

Ah, but there are always those who will seek to profit in such ways, and soon, male prostitutes began cropping up. Bois and women couldn't get enough. Prostitution was soon legalized in forty-eight of the fifty states, and their prices skyrocketed. After only a few years, only the rich could really afford them, and so, it became a status symbol. The richest bois and women would employ multiple men in such a capacity.

Strange how the world works, huh?

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

I need Feedback

Ah, another day, another poll. As usual, I'm looking for feedback. This time, I'm trying to determine where I stand in terms of how professional my writing is. So, the options are as follows:

1. Professional: It's as well-written as an average professional writer's output.
2. Almost Professional: It's close to as well-written as an average professional writer's output.
3. Good Amateur: It's not quite up to professional level, but it's a cut above other amateur writers' work.
4. Average: It's nothing special. Not bad. Not good. Just right in the middle.
5. Below Average: Most of what you read is better than my work.
6. Bad: I need to really rethink my writing style.

I know it's difficult to judge someone's work, so I only really ask for your initial impression. Don't overthink it. Also, I would prefer if you only consider my text stories when answering this poll (assuming anyone actually does so).

Anyway, thanks in advance for your input.

A Blog I like

I wanted to make a post drawing attention to a blog I've really come to enjoy reading. It's Interracial Sissy Captions . It's a fun blog, and features some sexy little pictures/captions.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Where does a boi fit into an Absolut World?

I remember in one of my first college art classes, we spent almost a week studying Absolut Vodka ads, and since then, I've always loved them. Some are subtle. Others are quite "in your face." But they're all incredibly creative. So I figured I'd make one to fit into my little world.

Originally, I had planned to have a boi swimming in the bottle, but I couldn't find a suitable photo. So I went with what you see here. Either way, I like it even though it took me a while to do. Hope you do too!

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

A Request

Hey there folks. I've never asked for source material before; I generally like to find it myself (that's part of the fun!), but I've been absolutely stumped by this. I have an idea for a caption, but I simply can not find a suitable picture. So here I am, asking for help. Let me tell you all what I'm looking for:

Basically, I'm searching for an underwater photograph of a woman. I need it to be a full body shot -- preferably in a bikini, but nude will work. I'd like for her to be swimming towards the surface, but sitting still will work as well. And I need for the photographer to be on the same level as the subject.

I know this is an odd and very specific request, but if anyone can help me with it, let me know. Thanks in advance.

Monday, August 15, 2011

The New Blog is Up!

The new Blog is up. I hope all of you will visit, follow it, and enjoy for as long as I keep posting. The link is:

The Feminization Station

A Few Stray Thoughts

I don't really like the Picassa slideshows, but I guess it's really my only option. I've been using slideshare, but apparently someone tattled on me, and they removed my slideshow. This isn't the first time, but I'm tired of having to re-post. So, I'm going with Picassa for the immediate future. If you happen to know of a better slideshow sharing site/program, please, let me know. Either way, repost of my latest picture story is here. Hope it stays up this time.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Oh, I'll just have the usual...

It's a simple picture with a simple caption, but I kind of like it.  It says so much about the state of the OBU world that bois and girls sharing a man isn't unusual at all. 

I should have a new pictory up in the next few days, and my new site should launch within the week. Once I get that launched, I'll try to finish the second part of "A Cross to Bear." 

Hope you enjoy, and as usual, thanks for being fans.

Saturday, August 6, 2011

Clinging to a Former Life...

I've had this picture done for a while, but I hadn't bothered to create a caption for it.  I really like the idea of a really feminine boi with short hair, but I find that it's so hard to find good pictures of short-haired women to alter.  The other ones I have on here I've had to photoshop their hair away, which is, I have to say, an extremely tedious process.  Anyway, hope you enjoy the caption.

An Update

I have decided to create a new site for my other work, but I will continue to update this as frequently as I can.  I haven't decided on a name yet, but I should have it up and going within the next few days.  I'll let you all know when that happens.  The site won't be as focused as this one, and will contain TG captions of all stripes, though I doubt I'll do *many* magical changes, and I will not be doing body swaps.  Anyway, that's that.  I hope you'll all come over and give it a look when I get the site up.

I also have noticed that a few of you run blogs of your own.  If you do, please put a link to your blog in the comments section of this post, and I'll put it into the links section of this site (and the aforementioned site).  I know how much work goes into making captions, writing stories, etc., and I want people to see it.  So just let me know if any of you want me to link to your site. 

Lastly, and this is a completely personal request, I used to frequent a site called "Sissy Trainer."  The person who ran that blog was extremely imaginative and talented.  Sadly, however, that blog went out of commission about a year and a half ago.  I suspect that the person who ran that blog is still creating new work, and I was wondering if any of you have gotten wind of where he/she is posting.  If not, no big deal.  But I figure if I'm averaging 2000 pageviews a day, I'd be silly not to ask if someone out there has any idea about where I can find his/her work.

I should have some new captions up here by the end of the weekend, so you have that to look forward to as well.  Thanks, as always, for being fans.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

As good a time as any...

I figure this is a good time to remind you all (especially you new folks) that I have written a few stories that aren't set in the Omar Bell Universe.  These stories can be found on Fictionmania or you can simply follow the links located on the Non-OBU page on this site.  The link to that page can be found in the top left corner of the blog.  I know I haven't been posting as frequently as I did when I started this blog, so this might be a good time to give those stories a look. 

That said, I wanted to pose a question to you all.  I have a few picture stories that aren't set in this universe (well, more than a few, truth be told), and I've been contemplating how best to put them out there.  I have my Imagefap profile, and I have this blog.  However, I don't really think these fit within the themes I've set for those two forums.  So, the solution I've been kicking around is to create another blog with a general feminization theme.  Before I do, though, I'd like to get your opinions (if you even care one way or another).  The pros and cons are as follows:

1. Posting on this blog:  Pros:  The site already exists with an established fanbase.  It would be easier, and less time-consuming.  Cons:  Feminizations outside of the OBU don't really fit within the theme of this blog, and so might confuse new or even established fans. 

2. Posting on imagefap:  Pros:  Anything goes on that site.  I have a bigger fanbase there than here.  It's easy to upload.  Cons:  No slideshows.  The blog mechanic is clunky.  Feedback is minimal.

3. Creating a new blog:  Pros: It maintains the continuity of this site.  I'd have a place to post my non-OBU stories.  Cast a wider web, so to speak.  Feminization is a popular fetish.  Racially motivated feminization is more of a niche.  Much more varied tools than Imagefap.  Cons:  It might take away from this site.  I only have so much time, and another blog might end up taking away some of the time I would normally use on this site.  Starting from scratch (with no fans, followers, etc.) can be daunting. 

I have to say that I'm leaning towards creating a new blog, but that could be my general "grass is always greener on the other side" mentality.  Anyway, feedback would be appreciated.  Thanks for being fans.

Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Catering to a new demographic...

After the Great Change, Marlboro had to alter its approach to selling their products.  This is one of the first ads they ran using the new Marlboro Boi. 

On a side note, I know that many people absolutely loathe smoking, and to those people, I do not mean to offend.  I simply thought that the Marlboro Man was such an historical symbol of (white) masculinity that it would be fun to turn that whole idea on its head.  Whatever the case, take this little parody for what it is -- just a bit of fluff that isn't to be taken seriously.

Monday, July 11, 2011

New Story

I'm trying something a little different with this story.  It is far less erotic than my usual work, but I think it's decently written.  Being as how I'm posting this in installments, please help me make each part better than the last by posting your comments. Thanks for reading, and enjoy.

A Cross to Bear
Volume One
by Nikki J

Charlie Young knelt beside the dead body, examining it. The boi was, it appeared, around thirty-five years of age – maybe a little younger, but still the worse for wear. Long blonde hair fanned out around the boi's pretty, but worn face, framing it with a halo of golden tresses. The unfortunate boi was naked, just like all of the others had been. As with the other victims, his arms were spread, and his smooth legs were pressed together, making him resemble a cross. The boi's wrists were cut, and a dried pool of blood decorated the tile floor beneath the wounds.

“The same as the others, huh?” a deep voice asked from behind Charlie.

Young didn't look up when he answered, “Yeah. No sign of foul play. It looks like a suicide, just like the other four, but...”

“Four identical suicides, where the victim ended up in the exact same position? Unlikely,” the deep voice interjected.

Charlie stood, and turned. “This one looks like a whore, too. Too many similarities for a coincidence.” He faced a tall, black man. “Damnit Harry. This sick bastard is screwing with us! I mean, what the hell are we supposed to do? No fingerprints, no hair...nothing. I just don't know what to do.”

“We'll get him, Charlie. It's only a matter of time before he screws up. They all do,” Harry answered.

“But how many more bois have to die before he does?” Charlie murmured as he pushed past his much larger partner. “I'll be back in a minute.”

The click of Charlie's heels followed him through the crime scene. A camera flashed as he navigated his way through the seeming army of crime scene investigators, uniformed police, and other detectives. Finally, he reached the stairwell, and descended a single flight before reaching the bottom floor, all the while, the details of the case racing through his head.

Four dead. All prostitutes. All bois. They seemed like suicides, but they were too similar, too clean. No, they were murders made to look like the bois had taken their own lives; that much was evident. But the why, the who, and the how...those all remained a mystery even as Charlie stepped into the dingy bathroom, and clicked on a light.

The mirror was chipped on the edges, and showed the same age and apparent neglect as the rest of the seedy hotel which had become a crime scene. The face staring back at Charlie was pretty, but tired. The long days and even longer nights had started to catch up to him. He sighed, and walked over to the lone stall, and opened its door. The toilet which greeted him wasn't the pinnacle of sanitation, but it was cleaner than he would have expected.

He turned around, slipped his panties down his smooth legs, raised his skirt, and sat down to relieve himself. When he was done, he wiped the moist tip of his small penis, and pulled his lacy thong back into place. He smoothed his skirt, and washed his hands.

No witnesses, he thought. The hotel's proprietor knew nothing. The neighboring rooms were empty. Leads were nowhere to be seen. The trail was cold, and Charlie knew it.

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” he asked his reflection, knowing the answer even as he asked. He would interview the victim's family and friends, try to find a connection with the others. Maybe he would get lucky. Probably not.

With a deep breath, Charlie clicked off the light, and exited the bathroom, and then the hotel itself. There was nothing left to do there. Let the others scour the place for nonexistent evidence. Charlie had better ways to pass the time.


Charlie closed the door, and slipped out of his heels as he entered the house. Then came his gun and badge, which he laid on the table near the door. It was late, and Charlie was tired. The interviews had been fruitless, but that had been expected. Whores had few friends and their families, by and large, chose not to claim them. No, they were the dregs of society, and would be missed by few, if anyone at all. But that knowledge only served to gall Charlie, to inevitably send the cases needling into his brain, never to be forgotten.

He reached down to the lamp, and clicked the light on. A moment later, a figure on the couch stirred, and Charlie saw his husband rise sleepily.

Rubbing his eyes, Charlie's husband muttered, “Long day?”

“You have no idea,” Charlie responded, crossing the living room, and plopping down next to Hugh, his husband. “Rebecca kick you out of the bed again?”

Hugh nodded. “You know she doesn't like us in the bed together without you.”

“Silly girl,” Charlie said. “She should know by now that I'm not the jealous type.”

Hugh shrugged, and Charlie leaned into his muscular arms, sighing. For the first time that day, he finally let himself relax. Absently, he stroked the dark skin of Hugh's forearm, and closed his eyes.

“Eight years, and I'm still not completely used to all of this,” Charlie intimated.

“Thinking about going over to the other side on me?” Hugh asked, mirth in his voice.

“Oh yes, couldn't you just see that? Me, a lesbian,” Charlie said with a slight giggle. “I think we both know how that would work out.”

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Hugh said sarcastically.

Charlie turned around, and straddled his husband. He reached down, and grabbed Hugh's hardening member. “You know I just love this big fellow far too much.” And Charlie leaned in to kiss his husband passionately. It seemed only seconds later that his panties were on the floor, and his skirt was hiked up around his hips.

Their lovemaking was short, but enthusiastic – Charlie was simply too tired for anything more elaborate. However, they were both satisfied when they came almost simultaneously – Hugh into Charlie's ass and Charlie's small penis squirting while his anus convulsed in orgasm. It was a familiar feeling for both. For almost ten minutes, Charlie lay in his husband's arms, completely limp, totally serene. But then the events of the day -- the unsolved case -- crept back into his mind, cluttering it to the exclusion of all else.


Charlie turned a knob, and the shower responded, sending a cascade of warm water over his smooth body. He stood there for a few moments, reveling in the relaxation before soaping up, and cleaning the grime of the day from his body. His hands roamed over his now-familiar body, feeling the taut smoothness of his skin, the protruding nipples of boihood, and his small penis. But his thoughts did not dwell on these things; it was normal.

Cleaned, he stepped out of the shower, and looked at himself in the mirror. Strangely, looking at his nude reflection in the mirror served to remind him just how much his body had been altered since the Great Change eight years ago. He had once been a normal man – almost six feet tall and one-hundred and ninety pounds. Charlie had fancied himself handsome then, but in a bit of a rugged way. Square-jawed with a perpetual five o'clock shadow and short black hair, he had been unerringly masculine. Now, though, he was so unmistakably boish, he was almost a caricature.

Sure, he had kept the short black hair, but his face was delicate and his entire body was smooth. At five feet and two inches, and one-hundred and four pounds, he was about average size for a boi. His hips jutted, and his tummy had a slight curve to it. His face may simply have been pretty, but his body was a gorgeous testament to boihood – all petite curves and softness.

He could have gone back to the way he had been – the cure was still available. And he probably would have if it hadn't been for Hugh and to a lesser extent, his sister wife, Rebecca. Love. He loved them both, that much was certain, but in different ways. Obviously, like most bois, he was attracted to men, but mere physical or sexual attraction is a fleeting thing. In Hugh, he had found his soulmate, and in Rebecca, he had found the sibling he had never had or knew he needed. To have changed back would have meant the end of that triangle of love. No, he couldn't do that. He could never throw that away.

And so he remained the way he was, and never regretted it for an instant.

Charlie dried himself off, then brushed his teeth, readying himself for bed. After that, he left the bathroom, and climbed naked into the bed. Ever since the change, he had preferred to sleep that way. He didn't know why, but there it was. He snuggled up against Rebecca, and quickly drifted off.


Charlie awoke the next morning to a splitting headache. Too little sleep, and too much on his mind. He was used to it. At least it was his day off. He sat up, rubbing his eyes. Rebecca and Hugh were already up – he could hear the din of conversation in the other room. He rose, and slipped on a pair of panties, some shorts, and a tank top. Seeing himself in the mirror, he thought he looked like some cheerleader headed to practice. Shaking his head at the thought, Charlie left the bedroom.

Stepping into the kitchen a few moments later, he saw his husband, Hugh, and his sister-wife Rebecca eating breakfast.

“Good morning, sleepy-head,” Rebecca said with a smile. “We thought you were going to sleep all day.”

“I probably could have,” Charlie responded, sitting down. He grabbed a piece of toast, and started buttering it. “Eighteen hour days will do that to you, ya know.”

“Oh yes, you're horribly put upon,” Rebecca said sarcastically. “Nobody makes you work that long. You choose to do it.”

“Leave it, Rebecca,” Hugh interjected. “He can't help that he wants to do his job right.”

“No,” Rebecca said, her voice rising. “I can't even voice my opinion now? I just don't think it's right that --”

“What do you want me to do?” Charlie asked. “Just ignore the murders? Maybe I should half-ass it like most of the rest of the force?”

“Or maybe you could get a different job,” Rebecca suggested with more than a hint of irritation.

Charlie was taken aback. He had never even considered changing careers. He was a cop. That was his identity. What was he without the badge, without the gun, the authority? Just a boi in a dangerous world. “I'm not quitting my job, Rebecca,” he said quietly.

“Why not? I know why you became a cop, but honestly, do you really think you're suited for it anymore? I mean --” Rebecca was interrupted.

“I think what she's trying to say, Charlie, is that this, what we have here between the three of us, doesn't work when you're not here,” Hugh said. “You're the glue that holds us all together. You come home to sleep, and when you're here, your mind is everywhere but with us. Without you, we fall apart. It's as simple as that.”

“I --” Charlie didn't know what to say. He had been a cop for his entire adult life. Sure, there had been some growing pains after the Great Change, but he had overcome it, and he thought he was a good cop. Even though the job was about as masculine a career as one could choose, he felt he had adjusted to it rather well. He loved his job, but in his heart, he knew that Hugh and Rebecca were right. Their little family was falling apart. Conflicted was an understatement. “I don't know what to say...”

“You don't have to say anything, Charlie. And we're not giving you ultimatums or anything like that,” Hugh said. “If you don't want to quit your job, fine. We – the both of us – have just been feeling...neglected, and we thought you should know.”

“But what else would I do? This is all I know,” Charlie responded.

“It's not like we need the money,” Rebecca said. “I mean, there's a reason every girl or boi wants to marry a doctor like Hugh.”

“So I'd just hang around the house and do nothing like --” Charlie was interrupted.

“Like me?” Rebecca asked, clearly offended by Charlie's insinuation.

“That's not what I mean,” Charlie said. “And you know it.”

“I do,” Rebecca allowed. “I know you're not the type to not have a job. But it doesn't have to be permanent, you know.”

Charlie didn't respond. Instead, he let the idea float around in his head. Could he be a housewife like Rebecca? Even temporarily? A break would be nice, he knew, but to permanently quit his job? That was a big step. It was a huge part of who he was, being a cop. But if it was a choice between family and the job, he didn't really have a choice. Family came first. Was it to that point yet, though? Did he have to choose? He was uncertain.

Finally, Charlie said, “I don't know.” He shook his head. “I just don't know.”

“All we want is for you to think about,” Hugh said. “Give it some thought.”

“I will,” Charlie said.

An awkward silence filled the room for almost a minute until it was broken by Rebecca saying, “Hell of a way to wake up, huh?” All three laughed, the tension draining away.


It was a good day, Charlie thought, until the phone rang. He and Rebecca had gone shopping, each trying on clothes and shoes, and finally buying a couple of outfits apiece. When they got home, the three of them shared a candlelit dinner and more than a little wine. Altogether, it was a perfect day, and it was quickly leading to a perfect night of lovemaking. The phone ended that notion.

Charlie picked it up.

“We have another one,” the familiar deep voice of Charlie's partner, Harry, said.

“So soon?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah. Same situation. Dead whore, looks like a suicide, but the body's just like the others,” Harry responded.

“Where?” Charlie asked.

“The Vista Hotel on 2nd Street. You know it?” Harry asked.

“Yeah. I'll be there in about an hour,” Charlie said. “Don't let anyone else interview the witnesses or friends this time. I don't want them spooked.”

“10-4,” Harry said, then hung up. Charlie put the phone down, and turned to Rebecca and Hugh.

“Sorry, but I have to go,” he said. Seeing the disappointment in their faces, he added, “But I've been giving some thought to what you two said this morning, and, well, this is it. Once we finish this case, I'm done. I don't know if I'm going to just ask to be transferred to a desk or if I'm going to quit altogether, but I'm done with homicide.”

“Are you sure?” Hugh asked.

“I am,” Charlie answered. “I know my priorities.”

“Okay, then,” Hugh said.

“But I have to get ready to go. I can't leave this thing unsolved,” Charlie said.


It was the same scene as the other four. This one was younger – probably mid-twenties – but it was otherwise identical. Naked boi splayed out in a cross, wrists cut – it was obviously the same killer. After about an hour of searching, the forensics team had come up with nothing. No fingerprints. No DNA. No hair. Nothing. All they could tell was that the boi had died where he lay. It was maddeningly frustrating, to say the very least.

Charlie turned to a uniformed cop, and asked, “Do we have any sort of lead on who he is?”

“Yeah. The hotel manager knows...knew him. Said his name was Willy. Willy Graham,” the man said.

“Any family in the area?” Charlie asked.

“Yeah. His mother lives a few blocks from here.”


Charlie knocked on the door, dreading his task. There was nothing worse than telling someone that their loved one was gone, much less telling a mother that her son had died. Even though it would leave him without any leads, part of him hoped that no one would answer. Even as the thought passed through Charlie's mind, the door opened, revealing a woman in her mid-fifties. Her gray hair was disheveled, and she wore a dirty nightdress.

“I'm sorry about the late hour, ma'am,” Charlie stated almost mechanically. “But I have some bad news. You are the mother of William Graham, correct?” He hated himself for being so cold.

“Yes,” she said. “Is he in trouble again?”

“I'm afraid so,” Charlie said. “He was found earlier tonight, having been killed.” He knew it was insensitive whenever he said it, but Charlie had never been good at that sort of thing. “I'm sorry.”

The woman sniffed, and a tear rolled down her cheek, but she didn't break down as so many before her had. “I suppose you want to ask some questions, then?”

“Yes, ma'am,” Charlie answered. “I need to get as much information as I can so we can find out who killed Willy.”

“Well, come on in, then,” the old woman said, turning and walking away. Charlie followed, shutting the door behind him. The old woman motioned to an old couch. “Have a seat.” Charlie did as he was bade, and the woman sat in a recliner perpendicular to the couch. “Ask your questions.”

Charlie pulled a notepad from his purse, and asked, “Do you know anyone who might have wanted to hurt Willy?”

“No. Everyone loved Willy. He was a whore, but he had a good heart,” she answered.

“So you knew?” Charlie asked, slightly surprised.

“Of course I knew. He wasn't always like that, but...Well, he was only nineteen when the Great Change happened, and he had been working construction. Needless to say, when he changed, well, that kind of work dried up. You saw him. Barely a hundred pounds if an ounce. Manual labor was out of the question. He tried other things. He tried working retail and getting a job as a secretary, but none of it worked out. The bills mounted as he was fired from job after job – I think he failed at those because he was so unhappy, and soon, we were backed into a corner.”

“I didn't know, at first. He just told me he had gotten a job, and that it paid well. It wasn't until a few months later that I found out that he had been stripping. We argued about it, of course, but he was a grown boi, and I couldn't stop him from doing what he wanted to do. Besides, the pay was great, and he seemed happier. It wasn't a year before I found out that stripping had led to other things. He began sleeping with men and women for money. I never even said anything to him about it,” the woman said, sniffing loudly. “I couldn't. How do you bring up that subject?”

Charlie knew the question was rhetorical, so he didn't answer, instead letting silence fill the air. Finally, the woman continued, “He told me he had met someone, though. It wasn't a week ago that he said that he had met the most wonderful boi, someone who didn't care about what he did, someone who could help him get back on his feet.”

“Do you know this boi's name?” Charlie asked.

“Quentin Williams,” she answered. “He's some higher up at an investment firm downtown, Willy told me.”

“Did Willy have any other friends you knew about?” Charlie asked, knowing the answer even as he asked.

“No,” the woman said. “He was a solitary boi.”

“Is there anything else you can tell me about him that might help us find his killer?” Charlie inquired.


Charlie rose, and said, “Thank you for your cooperation, and I promise that we're going to find whoever is responsible.” He handed the woman his card, and said, “If you think of anything else, don't hesitate to call me.”

And with that, he left, an old, crying woman in his wake.


What was he missing? There had to be something; everyone made mistakes, even if they were small and hard to see. This killer couldn't be different. They had a profile, sure. Black male (or possible a white male who had taken the cure), mid-thirties, and probably a bit of a loner – but profiles were only starting points. They had to be coupled with some sort of evidence; something had to be there to narrow the field.

But there was nothing, Charlie thought as he knocked rode in an elevator the next morning. A beep, and the door opened, revealing a plush office. A young, female secretary sat at a desk. She looked up, and asked, “May I help you?”

Charlie flashed his badge, and said, “Detective Young. I need to speak to Quentin Williams.” The secretary nodded her affirmation, and picked up the phone.

“Yes, Mr. Williams. There's someone from the police here to see you,” she said. A pause, and then, “Okay, I'll send him in.”

A few moments later, Charlie was led into a corner office. Inside, there was a beautiful boi sitting behind an enormous desk. He rose with a smile, extending his hand, “Quentin Williams. How can I help you, detective?”

Williams was smartly dressed in a form-fitting pantsuit. Charlie took his dainty hand, and said, “Detective Young. I'm sorry to be so blunt, but I am investigating the murder of one of your acquaintances, one Willy Graham. He –“

With a sharp intake of breath, Quentin fell back into his chair, a dazed look on his face. His hand found his open mouth, and his eyes widened. “Willy's dead? What? I don't understand. I just saw him yesterday, and he was fine,” Quentin began in a whisper, but his voiced mounted with panic.

Charlie was a little surprised. He hadn't expected that Williams wouldn't know that his friend was gone.

After a few moments, Williams looked up, and asked, “How did it happen? Was it Jermaine?”

“Jermaine?” Charlie asked.

“His pimp. Vicious bastard,” Williams said. “Jermaine Richardson.”

Charlie wrote down the name. “You saw Willy yesterday? About what time?”

“Around six or so, just after I left work. We met for drinks,” Quentin responded.

“And how did you meet Willy?” Charlie asked.

Williams wiped the tears from his cheeks. “About six months ago, I...we had a business arrangement.”

“You were one of his clients?” Charlie queried.

“Yes. I'm a lesbian. Well, I don't really consider myself one, but society does. I never asked for this to happen, and I...I just don't like men is all,” Quentin said.

“Why didn't you take the cure?” Charlie asked, genuinely curious.

“You know it only works on about ninety percent of us, right? Well, I was in the unlucky ten percent, it seems,” Williams intimated. “I don't have a choice, not like the rest of you. I'm stuck like this.” He gestured to his body.

The two were silent for a few moments before Charlie asked, “Was it only through business that you knew one another?”

“At first, yes. We met, and know. That went on for a few months. After a while, though, we would talk afterward. He really was a sweet boi, and he cared about my problems. Eventually, we became friends...maybe something more. I thought...” Williams trailed off.

“When did you last see Willy?” Charlie asked after a few seconds.

“I dropped him at his mother's house at about eight,” Williams said.

“What can you tell me about this Jermaine Richardson?” Charlie asked.

“He's a mean bastard, like I said. Treated Willy like a piece of property. He would show up sometimes with bruises, and Willy was deathly afraid of him,” Williams explained. “If I was you, I'd be trying to track him down.”


Charlie couldn't get Quentin out of his head. The other boi was so hurt, so raw over what had happened to his lover that the feeling had infected Charlie, making him that much more motivated to solving the latest murder. And so he found himself in the seediest part of town, knocking on the door of a dangerous criminal.

The door opened, revealing a hulking black man. He was shirtless, and wore only a pair of boxer shorts. His head was bald, and he sported a scruffy looking beard. He smiled, and Charlie could see gold glittering from his mouth. Tattoos covered his arms, and his voice was gruffly amused when he said, “Now, now, now...what do we have here?”

“My name is Detective Young, and I'm here to talk to you about the death of one of your...employees,” Charlie said. He was a little intimidated, but he knew that if the man attacked or became aggressive, he could have his gun out of his holster in the blink of an eye.

“You? A detective? Isn't that just precious. Which one of my bitches done got hisself killed?” Jermaine asked.

“Willy Graham,” Charlie said. “Where were you yesterday night?”

“You think I did it? Why would I go and do a thing like that? That bitch was a good earner.” He looked Charlie up and down, and said, “You would be too if you get fixed up a bit.”

“I'm not going to ask you again, Mr. Richardson. Where were you yesterday night between nine and two in the morning?” Charlie reiterated.

“I was at a Domino Club,” Jermaine said. “I was there from seven 'til four in the morning. You can ask any of the hundred or so people who saw me there.”

“I will,” Charlie responded. “Don't leave town. We might have some more questions.” And Charlie turned, walking away.

“I'll tell you what, Detective. You find out who did it, and just let me know. We won't have to worry about any of those courts or anything like that. I'll just make him disappear,” Jermaine called after Charlie. “People know not to mess with my bitches.” Jermaine went on, but Charlie ignored him. He wasn't the type to ritualistically kill anyone. No, if he was going to kill one of his “bitches,” it would be a crime of passion, and he'd be easy to catch.

“Back to square one,” Charlie muttered as he got into his car. As he drove away, the image of Willy Graham's corpse popped into his mind, and refused to fade.


Charlie opened the door to the house he shared with his family, and called, “I'm home on time for a change.” No answer. “Hey. Where are you guys?” Still nothing. Strange, Charlie thought as he looked around. He went into the kitchen. Nobody there. Nor was anyone in the dining room. Both of their cars were outside, so they had to be home. “Quit messing around,” Charlie said, a quiver in his voice. Something wasn't right.

With a little more urgency, he strode down the hall, and pushed open the bedroom door. There were no words to describe the sight that greeted him.

His breath came in gasps as he fell to his knees, and he could hardly comprehend what had happened. There was just so much blood. The bed was soaked in it. And in that pool congealed blood lay the two people he loved the most – Hugh and Rebecca. They were both naked, and their arms were splayed out to their sides, and their legs were together – a grisly pair of crosses. Four cut wrists, and two dead people.

Charlie panted, his breath ragged and his head spinning. The last thing he saw before he passed out was a sentence scrawled on the bedroom wall in blood. It read: “So close, yet so far away...” Blackness overcame Charlie's consciousness as he passed out.

Saturday, July 9, 2011

New Stories

I have just completed the first part of my latest story. It's about ten or eleven pages long right now, and should end up being three parts (or about thirty pages). I've alluded to its plot in an earlier post, but I want to reiterate that this is not at all similar to my other stories. It could less be described as erotica and more as a thriller (if a poor one). That said, I am at an impasse. My question to you all is this: should I post it in installments or should I wait until the entire thing is finished to post?

There are pros and cons for either method. Installments mean more frequent posting, but will leave you at a bit of a cliffhanger (some may actually like that, though). In addition, I think it might help me create a better story, assuming that some of you would give constructive criticism which I could use while writing the subsequent parts. Posting the story in its entirety, however, is the status quo for this blog. That's how I've always done it, and it's worked so far. The problem, though, is that with my hectic schedule, it would mean that you'd get new material far less frequently.

So, what I ask is that you post your opinion in the comments section of this post. Either way, I'll make a decision by the end of the weekend. Hope you've enjoyed my work thus far, and thanks for reading.

Friday, July 8, 2011

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Sunday, June 26, 2011

An Update

I am still working on my latest OBU story, and it should be finished this week (assuming I don't feel like it needs a ton of editing when I get finished). I'm trying something a little different this time, but so far, I'm at least moderately pleased with the result. It's a sort of detective story set about six or seven years after the Great Change. Our protagonist is Charlie Young, a police detective (yes, a boi) who is investigating a string of murders. The victims of these murders are all boi prostitutes. Hopefully, it will stimulate those of you who enjoy that type of story. I promise, though, that it won't all be murders and investigations -- I'll fit a fair bit of eroticism in there as well. Anyway, I'm trying to stretch as a writer, and this is the result. Hope to have it done soon, and I also hope that it will be enjoyable to those of you who frequent this blog.

On another note, I've noticed that quite a bit of my work is ending up in other places (just the pictures, usually attached to similarly themed captions), and I have to say that I'm quite flattered. I say this because, first of all, it shows that someone out there really likes my work. Second, these pictures appear amid pictures of real shemales. I can't help but think that my photo manipulation (in a very few cases) actually passes muster, and can be confused with the real thing. Personally, I can't see it, but I acknowledge that I am a bit harder on my own work than most people would be. Either way, if you read this blog, and want to make your own captions, feel free to use my photos -- I couldn't care less about getting credit for any of it. If you're already using it, thank you for being a fan of what I've put quite a bit of time into.

Sunday, June 12, 2011


So I finally got time to finish a little new content. I hope you all like it.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

An Update...

I just wanted to give you all an update, and let you know that I'm still around, and that I am working on some new material.  Work should die down a bit in the coming week(s), and I should be able to devote a tad more time to this blog.  However, I have been working here and there on a new picture story and a new text story.  The picture story should hit by this weekend, and the text story should follow a few days after that.  Bear with me while I try to get back into the groove of this whole writing thing.  As always, thanks for your patience and for visiting this site.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011


I'm sorry I haven't been posting very much lately (like in the past week), but I've been flying all around the country with work, and haven't had a chance to work on any new material.  Hopefully, work will die down a bit in the next week or so, and I'll be able to get back to a more consistent schedule of posting.  In the meantime, bear with me, and I hope you all are doing well!

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Friday, May 13, 2011

Sunday, May 8, 2011


I just wanted to say that I'm very pleased with the ever-increasing popularity of this blog.  I didn't in my wildest expectations think that this would appeal to as many of you as it has.

If you're new, take a look at the links in the top right corner.  They may help you get through my archive of work a little more easily.  Also, remember that your feedback is greatly appreciated, even if it's only rating the posts (though comments are awesome!).

I'd like to see more variety in my traffic sources, however, so if you run a blog, if you have a website, or if you're an active poster in a forum of any kind (in this genre of erotica, mind), please, link to here.

Anyway, thanks a ton for coming around and visiting my weird little world.

The other...boi...

Saturday, May 7, 2011

The Boi's Locker Room

Do as I say, not as I do...

I'm not completely happy with this one, but I've been working on the photo alterations for a while now, and I just wanted to move on. Hope you enjoy it.

Tuesday, May 3, 2011

Monday, May 2, 2011

A little anal sex goes a long way towards making a boi accept his situation...

Some of you may recognize this picture from a post I took down after only a day.  I told you all then that I would reuse these pictures, so here is the first from that sequence.  The caption is different, but the photo remains largely the same.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

From Soldier to Trophy Wife

I am actually really proud of this photo's alteration.  It's probably some of my best work (though it's not nearly the most I've changed a photo for my purposes).  I've been considering doing a "Before and After" post to show how I've changed some pictures, but I'm not sure if anyone actually wants to see that.  If so, let me know (in the comments section), and if there's a response, I'll do it.

Submissive or Dominant, That is the Question...

I recently read a question posed to Chirenon over at Male Protection.  He has begun a nice little photo story based in the Omar Bell Universe (he does awesome work, so check it out!). The question was thus:

"I know you've said before, Master Chirenon, that you haven't a submissive bone in your body.. but imagine the Omar Bell universe were real. Wouldn't you be converted into a boi as well?" -- Chris

Chris (the person who posed the question) is right -- the last word I'd use to describe Chirenon is submissive.  I don't want to speak for him, but I felt that I needed to make an important distinction. 

While this is a fantasy universe with outrageous situations, at the core are what I hope are reasonably realistic people.  I know I'm not the greatest author in the world, but I've tried to make each character react like I imagine a real person would.  Sure, the situation is so implausible that it seems silly, and the premise (that race is somehow important) is completely false.  But I've tried to make a fantastic setting peopled by real characters.  I hope I've been successful. 

As such, these people come in all shapes, sizes, and personalities, regardless of their gender.  Male, female, or boi, they can be as dominant or submissive as their personality allows.  I've seen huge men who are submissive and tiny women who are dominant.  What I'm saying is that how dominant a person's personality is has almost nothing to do with their physical traits.  It is a mindset. 

Sure, many of my characters become submissive, but I think that it is because their personalities are based on cultural norms.  Men are supposed to be masculine; when they are no longer men, their confidence is shaken.  I rarely go into it, but I think that many bois, after a period of adjustment, would regain their footing, and become themselves once again (albeit a boi version). 

So, to sum up this long, drawn out explanation, I think Chirenon (and those like him) would adjust to boihood, and remain the dominant partner in their relationships. 

Saturday, April 30, 2011

Poll Results

It seems that you all want more picture stories.  So I'll try to focus on doing those a little more -- they take a bit of time, not least of which is dedicated to finding a suitable set of pictures for a semi-decent story.  That said, if any of you find a set of pictures you'd like to see featured in a story, post a link in the comments section, and I'll give it a look.

Also, if you all have ideas about specific stories you'd like to see, I'm open to suggestions.  Like I've said previously, I only have a few fleshed-out ideas in this universe, so I'll eventually run out.  Either way, I'll keep posting something, even if it's only a slight variation on an existing story/caption/pictory.

Again, thanks for your participation in the poll.  It's greatly appreciated, and I hope you continue to visit this blog. 

A change of scenery can sometimes make all the difference in the world.

Wednesday, April 27, 2011


I just wanted to thank all of you who are participating in the poll.  It will prove to be quite useful as I try to focus my time on providing you all with what you want to see.  In addition, I want to encourage you to comment on my posts -- criticism or praise, it doesn't matter.  I only ask that if you do criticize, be specific about what doesn't work so I can fix it in the future.

Again, thanks to all of you for visiting this blog, and I hope you enjoy reading and seeing my work as much as I enjoy making it.

What is "normal" anyway?

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Sunday, April 24, 2011

Saturday, April 23, 2011

A New Poll

As always, I'm trying to get a feel for what people want to see.  To that end, I decided to simply ask what you all wanted to see more of.  So, if you frequent this blog, take a few seconds to participate in  the poll in the top right corner.  Hopefully, that will give me an idea of where you all want this blog to go.  Thanks in advance for your participation.  Oh, if you pick "something else," feel free to post what you'd like to see in the comments section of this post.

A Love Reborn