Our TG Caption

Well it turns out your local thrift store only had Candy Striper outfits. Lame, you were so looking forward to being a sexy nurse...

**Ah well, that's why this is the real world and not some fictional medallion of Zulo story** you think.

You bring the candy striper outfit home and prepare yourself for the change. A part of you is still doubting that this is even real, but you fight those doubts down. For once, you just want something magical to be a part, is that too much to ask?

Anyway, well aware of the rules of the medallion from all the fiction you've read on sites like Fictionmania and Big Closet, you weigh the pros and cons between just a short contact with the medallion and the clothes, or something longer.

A part of you is tempted to hold it to them longer, the prolonged contact might bring over enough of the personality of the former owner that you'd get the chance to have a peak into someone else's life.

But it's also a bit scary now that this opportunity is staring you square in the face. What if by wearing the medallion against those clothes for too long you loose who you are?

"I better be smart about this, I don't want to do anything too stupid." you say to yourself. An ansiety starts to build within you as you think of all the things that could go awry.

But you realize after a few moments that you aren't getting anywhere with cold feet. May as well bite the bullet and take the plunge. You put on the medallion and then touch it to the candy striper outfit. A slight shock immediately passes through your hand as the cool surface of the medallion touches the soft fabric of the dress. "Huh, so it is a bit like a static shock. Maybe a little stronger, not like getting an electric jolt though". Silly little details you'd always wondered about in the medallion of Zulo stories.


You pull your desk chair over in front of the full mirror hanging on your closet door and unceremoniously plump your ass down and shift your gaze to the mirror. Like a watchman, you now sit upon your watchtower waiting with keen eyes and rapt attention over the lands of your body that you know will soon be assaulted by a foreign invisible hand. Where the changes will start you know not, you only know they will come. As the minutes pass while you wait in anticipation, a tightness in your chest swells until you nearly forget to breathe. *Breathe, just breathe. Don't need to pass out now do we?*

And then you notice the first changes, it's really happening. You're almost dumbstruck, "Holy shit, this is real!" you exclaim to yourself. "No way!" you say as your hair begins to grow out and change to a purple, almost lavender color. "Huh, this chick must have been seriously color coordinated, the hair even matches the dress."

Then your face begins to soften, the chin narrows subtly and your cheek bones become slightly more pronounced and your eyes widen a bit. Then as if stung by a bee, your lips begin to pucker and swell, far more pronounced and... kissable? You lick those lush, almost glossy lips for a moment. Her eyes are like wide pools of amethyst innocence framed by long dark lashes and tapered feminine brows. She breathes out breathily and then you realize what's starting to happen.

"Ugh, stop it already. Gross! I'm not doing this to get turned on at myself!" you say. You begrudgingly admit though, that the face in the mirror is very beautiful. Whomever this candy striper was, she was hot!

Just as you're nearly lost staring into this beautifully feminine face you're now sporting you begin to feel a pressure all over your body... For a moment it feels as if the world is crushing in on you. You realize you can't even move, much like waking up with sleep paralysis which you've experienced a couple times before. The anxiety within your chest skyrockets again momentarily and you see the shadows of stars and darkness crowding in at the edges of your vision, a clear sign that you are near fainting. But fortunately, because you've felt a similar paralysis before, you're able to calm yourself down. Slowly the twinkling stars and suffocating darkness fall away from your vision. A relief washes over you, the last thing you need right now while clutching the medallion to this dress is to pass out for God knows how long.

Returning your gaze to the mirror your eyes watch in the stunned silence as your body shrinks down. That big lanky boned frame and all that body fat melting away. *Well, it's not like I was THAT fat* You think to yourself. *I was still a kind of cute guy so stop judging me* you say to your callously heartless inner critic. That trash inner voice that is always beating you down the moment you take your guard down whenever you're looking in the mirror. *Well maybe if you'd try to care about your body more and be in shape then I'd pester you less* the inner critic's voice seems to chide back. It's true though. It's not like you haven't wanted to go to the gym, but for some reason you've just never felt motivated enough to put in the work.

But yeah, in the past, more often than not you've felt at least partially disgusted by the person you'd see looking back. But there's also always been a self love there too, like this part of yourself that is always just loving you for who you are. It's just sometimes that voice is hard to listen to over the other one that is always ripping you a new one over how you need to get back to the gym if you ever want to be happy about who you see in the mirror. But there's also always been another voice within that you never really could understand, *It doesn't really matter, it's not like you're going to ever be excited about seeing this mug in the mirror* it would seem to say.

Well this time, for once, you are excited at what you are starting to see there. Your skeletal frame is now very petite, and the fat around your waist and on your arms has all but entirely melted away; with just enough left to leave your skin looking delicate, soft, and supple. And finally you feel like you can start to move again. The paralysis has subsided and you start to run your hands over your newly sculpted body.


And then a faint tingle is felt within your chest, followed by a tremor of excitement flowing over you. The transformation has now shifted gears on towards the main event. *Oh shit, it's happening, I'm growing them! I'm really growing breasts!" you exclaim.

At this point you have stripped fully naked, but still clutching the candy striper dress to the medallion. Some part of you still wanting to maintain that connection. You know you don't need it to complete the physical transformation anymore, but for some reason that obvious knowledge is being suppressed, off on a side burner somewhere in your subconscious.

A giggle practically bubbles out of the depths of your soul somewhere. You watch intently as your boyish pecks become not so boyish anymore, and decorated with large silver-dollar sized areola. A chill runs down your spine and goosebumps across your entire body, your nipples pop out like pencil erasers and then slowly a mound of soft flesh begins to build behind them.

You've got a mad boner *down there* and subconsciously reach down to stroke the last vestiges of manhood left in your body. You realize what you're subconsciously doing and blush at yourself, then tentatively reach up at the pronounced nipples on your chest. God it's been so long since you've had the chance to play with some breasts. It's been a long dry spell since your last relationship with a girl, and dates lately have all just been meh.

But now, you can have all the fun with them you want, and it's your body! "Shush you, I'm not some wanton slut, nor am I some carnal grabby douche!" you say to your overactive carnal ego. *Geez, it's like having a child that's never grown up... except it's still me, a part of me anyway.* "Still though, I've always wondered how these would feel..." you say aloud. Conscious you're practically talking to yourself, but this is pretty much your norm these days. "I wonder if everyone talks to themselves like this?" you muse. *Or am I just a crazy freak?* you retort silently.

A cool breeze from your ceiling fan draws your attention back to your exposed chest. Your can almost feel your breasts expanding outwards. "Wow, this girl is stacked! No, scratch that, *I* am stacked!" you say as the perky breasts on your body blossom outwards to a splendid "I want to grab and hold those" size. "Hmmm, double D maybe? I'm not sure, though, I'm so much smaller now and these things look massive on me."

You smile in admiration and a girlish sense of pride flows subconsciously over your body. Perhaps alarms should be going off inside somewhere, but strangely there is only this giddy feeling of almost excitement bubbling up within you. The large breasts draw your gaze in again and you bounce up and down a bit, watching how they sway almost hypnotically. You reach up to them and cup them softly with your hands.

And then, after the first few tentative touches cupping and caressing the supple flesh, you take your middle finger and brush your left nipple, circling around it and then flicking it back and forth gently a few times. Should you be so good at this already? Because it feels REALLY good, like your hands know exactly what they are doing... Another tremor runs through your body, this time seeming to stop somewhere below your navel and you feel your pelvic muscles clench reflexively.

A deep aching need begins to build from within you, quite the opposite of wanting to slide your dick in a hole somewhere railing against it wildly. Your body is telling you what you now want, and as if in response to that carnal knowledge you feel a tremor shudder across your pelvic region.

You thought your body was already looking feminine, but with a loud *crack* and *pop* you look down and watch as you see your hips have just expanded outwards. You turn slightly around and look down over your shoulder in the mirror. Your ass too, damn, it's getting all bubbly and jiggly and your now very feminine hands with their slender fingers give it an appreciating squeeze... "Uh, am I really sure I'm not some protagonist in some TG fap fest?" The curves on your body are now starting to get into the extremely feminine and gorgeous territory. "Because damn!" you say looking appreciatively at your ass, hips and hourglass waist. "This is real right? Not some dream I'm going to wake up from?"

You painfully pinch yourself. *Doesn't hurt to check, can never be too sure* "Well if I am dreaming, I still don't have control over any of this. A lucid dreamer is basically a God of their own dream world and I can't do shit." And just to prove it to yourself you try to imagine yourself flying in the air. *Nope, still earthbound, guess it's not a dream then*


Right then, as you're questioning the reality of your experience, a tingling jolt of pleasure in your groin drops you to your needs. "Ah shit, that, this, this is intense. Holy shit they never tell you how intense this feels in the stories. Oh my God, I'm so going to cum!"

Already your hard member is much smaller and petite than usual. A part of you giggles at the sight of it. *Oh look how adorable it is* "I could enjoy putting a cute little bow on it if I didn't already know the little guy will be gone very soon." *wait, what was that?* You realize your left hand is still gripping the medallion.

*Oh* you realize inwardly. You can feel it, an almost girlish side to yourself, as if she was a silent observer enjoying all this exploration and is now making herself known within you.

"But is this me, or is it *her*?" You whisper aloud, thinking of the obviously gorgeous and very girly former owner of this candy striper outfit. *Just enjoy the ride* she seems to say within you. Not really an actual voice that is heard, but you imagine it, her whispering with the hint of playful foreboding.

You decide to keep holding the outfit to the medallion for now, it hasn't even been thirty minutes yet, it's not like you've been keeping it in contact for hours. "I'm just imagining things. Fuck, this is just my twisted carnal self's fantasy. Ugh, I may as well just accept it as just one of my regular hormone fueled fap fest fantasies I like to indulge in, except this time come to life. I mean who am I kidding? Certainly not myself. I read stories on Fictionmania and Big Closet, and fap off to TG caption sites all the time. I knew this was coming..."

And then you feel it, you don't even realize when it had started because you've been so busy doing that stupid self-talk psychoanalyzing shit while at the same time madly fapping what is left of your junk as you stare at the gorgeous girl you are blossoming into in the mirror. *Oh my God, I not only want to be her, I want to fuck her* you think to yourself. It was then, as you were stroking your little member thinking about this little hottie in the mirror that you reached a finger back behind your balls and noticed it, a WETNESS, a slit **holy shit! holy shit!** beginning to open.

A soft moan escapes from your lips and as it does so you can't help but look up at the girl in the mirror, obviously ravenous with need as she fingers herself, and think about what those perfectly pouty lips would look like wrapped around a massive cock. A thought that is quickly reframed as you realize again that YOU are that gorgeous girl in the mirror, and you begin to wonder what it would be like to have YOUR perfectly pouty lips wrapped around a massive cock. Somewhere deep within a part of you practically purrs with pleasure at the thought.

The lines are starting to blur now, your old self, your female self, and this girl in the mirror whose body clone and possibly parts of her personality the medallion has gifted you from the activation of it's magic with her discarded clothing. A part of you almost feels dirty, like you're stealing her body. *But it's not stealing her body, this is MY body, it's just changing to a copy of hers* you inwardly exclaim in defense at your almost guilty thoughts. Still though, a part of you feels as though this act borders on non-consensual theft of a part of her identity. *Maybe next time I'll find someone to consensually swap with, or perhaps I'll just get brand new clothes that never belonged to anyone else.*

"But fuck, she is so beautiful, so fucking hot! I really *love* this body!" The excitement at being in such an attractive body, and the guilt over the near internalized taboo of the situation is driving you through a few mental loops. Is feeling dirty about this turning you on even more? *No, that is sick, what the fuck is wrong with me?* you inwardly ask.

Somehow you're not exactly cumming but there's loads of clear fluid oozing out of your diminished cock. *Your pretty little girl cock* You giggle again (or was it the girlish part of you?) and finally set the candy striper outfit down so you can stroke your breasts at the same time as you play with your little member even more... as well as THAT, that almost taboo opening noticeable with the faint hint of wetness against the cool air.

*Shit, I need a better view of this* you think. Quickly you rip the mirror off the brackets holding it to your closet and brace it awkwardly against the shelf holding your TV and gaming console in front of your bed, right up in front of the TV. Better than anything on Netflix you chortle, the girlish playfulness like you're doing something secretly naughty bubbling up within. *It's good to be naughty* she practically coos to your inner being. A mental image of your female self and this girl whom's body you now have seem to have merged. *Oh great* you inwardly sigh, knowing you're losing to this inner minx of a she-devil that is now you're imaginary shoulder temptress.

With a leap and bound you are on your bed, this time facing the mirror so that you can get a full view of what is happening down there. At this point you look like some insanely hot trans girl that belongs on a porn site or Friendlyfaves with thousands of followers. *Well there's an idea* you think deviously. With this kind of body, forget your day job. "Holy shit, I can so be free of that hell." You mutter in realization. You start to pose seductively, as if teasing an imaginary audience behind a voyeuristic camera, an audience with a secretly exclusive view into your risque little adventure in deviance and debauchery. The imaginary she-devil version of yourself on your shoulder is practically swooning.

"Stop it, focus! Now's not the time for that!" you say as you slap your cheeks. Curiously you return your gaze to the growing slit behind your balls... or wait, where are your balls??? "Oh my God, are they gone already?" You feel around down there, but the sensitive little fellas are no where to be found. At some point, during all that primping and posing they must have slipped inside--your ballsack is empty!

And then, even as you realize your ballsack is now empty, a dull aching pain is felt behind the area. Like some hidden region that is branching out within, and then... "Fuck, that hurts!" You scream as you nearly double over in pain from the tremendous cramping in your abdomen.

Your voice, you realize, is sounding very much like a young woman with a sugary sweet contralto or soprano, and nothing like the baritone "brotone" you are so accustomed to.

And then very swiftly, like a tsunami that cascades in after the absence of the sea, your pain quickly shifts to pleasure. *Oh my God, oh my god* "Oh my God!" you scream, your little member is twitching madly as your hand is rapidly stroking it while the other keeps going back from one nipple to the other, and then down to your growing slit. The waves of pleasure build up unlike any pre-climax you've felt before. Sure there is the focus on your groin, but it's also everywhere, washing over your entire body, even your toes are curling with pleasure at this point. It's not natural in the slightest, you can feel tickling pleasure sensations as what seems like thousands of new nerve endings coming online not just within your cock but behind it within your pelvic region too. With its last vestiges of virility your pretty little girl cock squirts out cute little torrents of clear fluid before slipping out from between your fingers.

You look at the clear mess of fluid on your abdomen. Touching some you bring it up to your nose, it almost smells sweet and a part of you is tempted to taste it. *No, that's still gross* you think. "I can't taste my own cum..." you almost whisper. But your cock is shrinking away rapidly, what if the medallion's curse strikes and you get stuck and never get the chance to taste your own cum again? "No, no, no, what the hell am I thinking?!?" *Do I secretly want to be stuck like this? And that... you look down at the cum glistening on your pretty little manicured fingers, and then into the mirror at the girl with the clear fluid all over her gorgeous breasts and tight little stomach, perhaps the most beautiful girl you've ever had the pleasure of playing with your cock who is now debating licking the cum in her hand. And just like that something *clicks* inside you. You NEED to see this girl lick that cum, such a sweet little innocent face that you watch as it shifts to something very sexual with a smirk of her adult debauchery.

She may look young and sweet, but she's not THAT young, certainly not with that high class luxurious body. She looks at you through the mirror and smiles as she licks her hand clean like the dirty little secret slut she truly is. You almost absent-mindedly reach down to your cock, which at this point is more of a phantom limb. It's barely the size of your pinky finger now--no, not your OLD pinky finger, your new tiny little girly one.

You watch in fascination as it continues to shrink, meanwhile the empty sack that held your testicles seems to be parting and reforming around the slit that had already begun opening. Down, down, down your little flacid member goes until nothing is left but a little nub, which is soon enclosed protectively by the lips of your labia majora and folds of the labia minora that your flesh that used to be your ballsack and surrounding area has reshaped into. It's such a pretty little pussy. It BELONGS there, your inner girl-self affirms. This is how you were ALWAYS MEANT TO BE. Inwardly, she, you, we, us--ugh, maybe you have spent too much time talking to yourself... Either way, she is purring... I am purring. I'm happy with this? Why do I feel so happy with this?? Should I feel alarmed that I'm loving this experience so much?

Wanting a better view of the final remnants of the transformation you grab the mirror again, this time propping it against a pillow right in front of you as you spread those delicate lips and see your swelling member finally finish it's journey of metamorphosis into the butterfly that is now your vagina, a tiny little clitoris resting happily in the midst of the petals of your very own beautiful little flower. You brace yourself, knowing you want, no NEED to touch it. But also knowing that this is your new pleasure button, and that as soon as you start--it may just rock your world. There will be no going back from this precipice, what is done and experienced cannot be undone.

You bite your lips in anticipation as you reach for the forbidden fruit. Slowly your finger reaches out. Slowly your inner female self takes a bite from the fruit she has plucked from the tree. And "Eyahahaha.." your feminine voice moans out startlingly. "Too dry, and wow that is sensitive!" you exclaim. Your slit is wet and already flowing with the juices of arousal. You stroke your fingers across your labia to lap up some of the juices and give your hand better lubrication. As you do so you instinctively thrust a finger in.

Your eyes boggle out momentarily. "Huh, didn't realize how much I wanted something inside me..." you start, and instinctively push your middle and index finger in deeper. And you can feel it inside you. That little nub on the outside is just the tip of your clitoris. There is so much more within that is thick with arousal. Instinctively you branch your fingers out in a 'V' shape and begin to massage the engorged crura (a word you would learn about later) within. That brief exploration of your clitoris sending shockwaves out to all the nerve endings it is connected to, did a pretty great job of awakening your awareness to the iceberg of arousal that was just under the surface and branching out into the engorged structure of tissues underneath--like the roots of the flower needing just as much love and attention as the parts of it above the surface.

You never really knew much about women's anatomy before, just some motions and techniques your past girlfriends had taught you for pleasuring it. But feeling it firsthand... ahahaa let's just say the first hand experience is far more educational of what you knew you didn't know before now than you ever realized. Your body is now thick with arousal, practically commanding you on how to pleasure it.

As you continue to massage with your fingers it happens instinctively again, you feel your muscles in the area clamping down and squeezing tight. The pressure against your hand reminds you of your clitoris that is now demanding attention, and this time, not out of curiosity. You take your wet fingers out of your slit and remembering how sensitive it was, you carefully spread the folds of your labia open wide this time. Gently you begin to trace circles around the little pleasure buzzer. Your last girlfriend made sure to teach you this move well. *Thank you Sadie!* you moan, grateful to her instruction that you are now taking full advantage of. Too bad it can't be your tongue. *Damn, I would love to go down on that pussy!*

You start to imagine it, going down on this girl, but quickly it is your old self going down on her, and then it is him going down on you. *Well that's a weird fantasy* you think. "But it's kinda hot, because you know he would love you unconditionally and hold you close in his strong safe arms and... *wait, huh?* LOL, why are you imagining your past self as some beefy hunk instead of the cuddly teddy bear he truly was? "Wait, past self? I'm still me, this isn't permanent." The male identity within you rears up in some kind of nonchalant "This is how it is because I said so" defiance.

"Oh really?" you almost playfully jest. You think you can resist all this? You move your hand back to massaging your breast and nipple while your other hand remains down below circling your newly minted clit. You simply stay that way for several minutes, enjoying your body and every button, every little pinch, squeeze, *PLUNGE* or caress that it asks for... Somewhere in the fog of your mind you realize there is a woman moaning loudly, obviously in the throes of enjoying her sex.

But it doesn't take long before some growing unsatisfied itch begins to bother you. Like cold water a driving need washes over your entire being. You need something inside you, something MORE, and NOW!

You now know you need to come and that the next goalpost is screaming for something long, hard, and thick inside you. "Fuck, this is everything I've dreamed of, but fuck, oh no, no, no..." you look around frantically for something, anything to put inside that is larger than your tiny little fingers.

"Oh God, oh fuck..." You can't help it, in frustration you plunge your fingers deep inside again and move your other hand down to continue massaging your clit. "Yes, oh fuck, yes, yes, yes, stick it in deeper, fuck me, fuck this little slut..." somewhere along the line you realized you not only were fantasizing about a big meaty cock inside you, but a man, oh dear God you need a man inside you. Even now you can imagine him forcefully thrusting into you with carnal desire, holding you down as you squeal in wanton need. It is all you want, his desire, his carnal desire to have you, to ravish you. Faster your fingers move, your body now bucking wildly. You move your hand back to your breasts and squeeze them while pinching your nipple almost painfully.

And through the fog that has rolled in with the tide and crescendo of waves of pleasure you hear her scream out in joy. It's that woman that you could distantly hear from before--again. You smile as the waves keep crashing over you, again and again and again.

Soon her eyes flutter open as the newly minted woman that you are gathers her senses and the bearings of her surroundings. *Oh wow, I might get addicted to that... hell, I might already be addicted to THAT* you think wistfully as latent lapping tremors of pleasure still wash over your being. Yet to your chagrin and perhaps a bit to your surprise there is still a deep ache within, a carnal desire now awakened within the well of your soul that still thirsts in a hungered disappointment.

"Fuck, am I even a boy??" You muse. *Was I ever?* you almost whisper to yourself.

What kind of man even thinks this way? You realize that in this moment, your entire being is screaming in all GIRL. If your inner world were painted with rainbows, every color in the rainbow would be feminine, female, woman. And the only thing resisting is your brain, or perhaps more accurately, the conditioning in your brain. It's like you can envision all the family and friends part of the culture of shame you were raised in, and somehow all of their disappointing glares bearing down on you all at once for failing to be the boy and man that you were supposed to be.

You shake your head and slap your cheeks "Ah fuck that shit, stop thinking that way. It's probably just my distorted view of reality from tuning into too much toxicity on social media anyway. I don't need any of that bullshit programmed shame for just wanting to enjoy my body, and if any of them think otherwise, fuck them!"

---

Snapping your awareness back to the present and sexy body you are wearing you smile. "Besides, it's play time!" you say, quickly reaching for the candy striper outfit. "I can't wait to see how hot I look in this!"

First the bra, it takes some fumbling, and you realize it may help to hang your mirror back up where it belongs on the closet. As you finally finish getting dressed you give yourself a thorough once over in the mirror and a spin to check out your back side to boot.

"Aw geez, this girl was totally my type." There's this cute innocence to her face and you almost feel dirty for the little jill fest you had earlier. Embarrassed your cheeks flush and you slightly look away, with one hand casually twirling her hair almost as if out of habit.

"Well now, now that that's all behind me I can get back to why I started all this in the first place. To the hospital!" You say to yourself, as if trying to convince yourself that this is still all about your altruistic desires to do some good in the world. Well, even if there is a bit of self indulgence in there, that doesn't mean you can't enjoy it while you enjoy helping others out as well, right?

Quickly you gather up your things, as well as a few bits of pre-owned clothing you picked up from the thrift store. In your mind your plan is childishly simple, a part of you realizes this, but for some reason it just feels right anyway. Go to the hospital, find someone terminally ill and in need, help them into a better body, a health body they are happy with. Easy enough right?

It's your first time though, so you'd like to keep it to just one person's case and then come back home and review what went well or not. No need to be too risky by getting overinvolved with too many cases at once.