In a room
The sign reads
"Welcome all new travellers.
To continue you must go through a series of doors.
After going through you will pick a costume. You will then become a half- human and half that creature.
After a week(100 mins a hour,20 hrs a day,10 days a week) has passed you may morph and get another costume. To start of with you will only be able to become 40% human to 60% human.
If you put on a costume you will then become that creature, be teleported to it's home town and have to wait a week before being able to morph.
After 50 costumes you may change into one of your other costumes and become 30% to 70% human. When changing costumes you must wait at least an hour before you can change costumes again.
100 different species/gender costumes allows you to gender-morph and become 20% to 80% human
200 different species costumes allows you to combine costumes and become 10% to 90% human
400 different species costumes allows you to return to your world with no more morphing
And 800 different species costumes makes a polymorph and allows you to morph outside of this world.
Also if you have a costume like a centaur then the human part will always be human and is counted towards the human percentage.
Any gender/species transformation magic of yours can only change your gender(if you have at least 100 costumes) and the animal part to a different animal.
When you change into a different costume (that you already have) you may teleport to that species home town but you will have the week penalty where you have no costume changes.
If you die while wearing a costume you will be reborn at the local inn (or appropriate location ). If you have more then 100 costumes you will lose the costume you had when you died and go to an appropriate place for your next costume.
If you fail to make it out in 100 years(100 weeks in a year) one of your possible forms will be chosen and you will be permanently stuck in that form(apart from magic) until you die. Also there will be no possibility of going back to your world.
Also, one final note: should you take a female form and become pregnant, you won't be able to change your gender until the child is born, though the other aspects of your form may change (the child will change to match.) That is all, and good luck!
You realise that you have to do what the sign said to do and go through the doors and grab a costume.
Alternatively you could use the key system to determine the room
Written by Catprog on 11 February 2004
Normal Land
You go through the door.
All of a sudden it slams shut and with no handle on this side it appears that you are stuck.
There are two more doors however and both of them have a sign on them saying
Costume room for
Element: Land
Type: Normal
Gender: ????
So which door do you want
Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004
Male Normal Land
You go through the door.
All of a sudden it slams shut and with no handle on this side it appears that you are stuck.
There are five costumes in this room, all of them male, all of them are normal land creatures.
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Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004
Ball python
“It feels rough,” you say to yourself, eyeballing checkered diamond-shaped scales etched across the iridescent scales of the outfit. The suit clings to your dry skin as you step, one foot at a time, into the tight suit, pulling it up as you extend the length of the bunched up material.
The excitement of your next transformation can be sensed deep within your core; building energy within you, as if this essence had been generated by the suit. You begin to feel your skin tingling as your bare flesh wiggles inside the tight lining of the suit. The leather-like skins unfolding to the will of your heavy limbs, almost molding to your form.
Splotches of brown and black are segmented between each polygonal scale running along the length of the magical costume, a tail weighs behind you, heavy with muscle. That’s when you begin to feel a gently swaying, as you gain control of your tail; the cloth pulling your new limb tightly against your body. The waistband tightens around your waist to compensate, the compression nearly winds you as you begin to panic.
“The transformation’s beginning already?” You say to yourself aloud, one arm still completely out of the slick suit beginning to overtake your body. “O-oh!” you can barely contain your surprise. Deep ridges begin to checker along your skin, slowly making their way up to your sides, tingling as the pattern tickles its way along your smooth skin.
Your arms have become rough: a tapestry of diamond scales trailing laterally down the length of your forearms. The material can be heard, pulling tightly around your frame. These newfound sensory organs begin to alter your perception of the room around you, the vibrations of the bustling city can be heard with pristine accuracy through the soles of your feet; you begin to feel the ground slipping beneath you. Your arms becoming sensitive and tingly as if you had pins and needles. Your vision begins to juxtapose various different color palettes that the environment seems to have, though you just naturally seem to be able to differentiate your ultraviolet from your infra-red visual sensors.
Your pits open wide as you take in a deep breath of all the scents surrounding you. Bright colors fill your mind as your Jacobson’s organ is awash in the aroma. The room around you begins to spin, black spots begin to take up your vision.
A chair in the opposite corner of the room catches your eye; you begin to stumble towards it. The anxiety weighing heavy in your chest holds you back as your heavy legs begin to merge into one continuous tube, your attempts to trudge becoming impossible by the heavy weight of your body.
The muscles on your stomach struggle to expand and contract to help you slither forward, your scaley arms reaching out for the chair as you tumble to the ground. The length of your muzzle can be seen in your peripheral vision; it distracts you as you stumble to catch yourself with your hands, still losing your conscience.
Your skin begins to feel tight and firm as the suit finalizes the transformation, your joints almost seem to squeak as you shift your arms around, futilely clawing your way to another piece of furniture, or at least anywhere to sit.
Your body seems to guide itself down to the floor. You lay yourself down gently, minding all the objects around you as to not hit your head, the ground creaks underneath you as your heavy python rib-muscles lay heavy on the floor. The final thing you remember seeing before falling asleep is the thick scaley eye caps lining your vision, tinting your environment a darker hue, matching the deep yellow and browns of your wavy scale pattern.
Written by Driftingdragon on 30 November 2019
Strip Club
A dull rhythm droned in the background, whining treble sings a twisted techno melody. Brightly saturated neon lighting flickers on and off in your peripheral vision, a blinking rainbow of advertisements. Your eyes quickly flicked open and you find yourself in an opulent room with a deep purple color palette. Curtains, couches, tables, pillows, and much more adorn the gigantic empty drawing-room. Large fluffy pillows lined the dyed leather upholstery, the long thin fibrous hairs clumping together in all directions. The clumps stir, due to the fan in the opposite of the room; the gentle wind blows across your smooth scales.
The brown iris of your eyes grows thin as your waking eyes adjust to the bright flashing array of lights.
“This penthouse is amazing!” You say to yourself as you look down at your transformed body. You adore your serpent body, the long muscular ribbon of a spine holding your structure together, under piles of defined stretches of muscle. You take notice of the cream white suit you adorn, the sleeves perfectly tailored to fit your serpentine body.
A door opposite from you marked by a sign “EXIT”; a heart-shaped threshold flashes brightly with hot pink lights. The hot air is filled with the stuffy aroma of sex; the molecules cling to your forked tongue as you flicked it in the air, your sticky spit splashing onto the collar of your fancy suit. The sound of music begins to fade into focus as you regain your understanding of the surroundings. Though you clearly know that you’re not in the room that you once stood in.
This realization almost instantly snaps you out of your haze, driving you to spring up and look around your room for some kind of clue to the adventure you have picked out this time. Mere moments later an assistant bursts through the ‘EXIT’ door and peeks her head around, before meeting eyes with you. A weary smile spreads across her face, and her quiet squeaky voice begins to speak.
“Hello, Pimp Daddy” a woman adorning a tight black dress stands half-way in the doorframe. “You’re needed for your 3 O’Clock,” she said, clutching a clipboard close to her bust. You can’t help but take notice of her bust; how it’s way too big for her top.
“Okay, let them know I’m headed there soon..-ly!” you say, nervously. The female giggles as she exits the room, when she turns to leave, your eyes fall to her plump ass, pulled upwards tightly by the tightness of her black latex dress, shining beneath the sterile light fixture.
You begin to search through the room to find any form of identification. “Is this a lounge? A cafe? A bar? Maybe a-?” Your eyes fall to a deep purple colored pole. The glaring light reflecting down the long length of this thick structure; instantly you begin to understand. Your eyes widen as you realize that you’ve landed yourself a gig as the manager of a strip club.
A pile of papers sits on the table, your scaley hands reach towards the loose stack and turn them over. “(STRIP CLUB NAME) Est(DATE)” you turn the paper over once more to reveal an image of you standing in front of an immaculate building with flashy banners displaying the same name. A tall mirror behind a large king-sized heart-bed meets your stare, you instantly confirm that the individual on the advertisement is you.
All the anxiety you felt earlier suddenly melts away into excitement once more, the possibilities you can do with this kind of career are endless. You spend most of the day thinking of the benefits and alterations you’d do in this lifetime in order to live your perfect life this time around.
Written by Driftingdragon on 27 December 2019
Dancer
You’ve grown accustomed to this lifestyle well within the mere week that you’ve been here. The daily check-ins with your staff are a breeze to you, as you walk through the winding hallways of your establishment. Every day spent here you realize how grateful you are to have chanced yourself upon such an amazing costume. One that finally puts you in control; instead of working for people, others have to hear the final word from you now.
Today you’ve decided to mingle with a particular lady who had been catching your eye for the past week. She was one of your erotic dancers, another naga-type snake much like yourself. Her smooth scaley body a pale ghost white morph. Her skin appears as if it’s in shed, magnified in intensity by the beaming lights from above as the stage manager’s steady hand guides the lights directly over her floating slither.
The feathers of her extravagant boa sparkle brightly in the spotlight, adorned with glitter. You realize that you must have her. The pristine diamond-shaped scales glistened as her cylindrical body presses hard against the marble floor, propelling her reptilian body forward.
You approach the woman, feeling confident of the amount of return you’ve received thus far in your wallet. Your confident towering slither catches her eye as you reach the half-way point of the bar. To your perception, it seems to be slow motion, how a smile spreads across her lips almost perfectly in synch to the beating of your shoes upon the tile floor of your building. You know exactly what to say.
“You know… Your smile has been lighting up the room all night and I just had to come to say hello!” her eyes look you up and down, she shakes the ice from the bottom of her glass of whiskey. After a moment of forcing you to wait, looking you up and down slowly, she consumes the final swig of her drink, before vocalizing uncomfortably, and clearing her throat.
“Hey there dearie, Good seein ya round.” She says, not parting her eyes from the drink in her glass. You observer her thick synthetic eyelashes fluttering in your direction; almost captivating.
“It’s a nice day meeting anyone working in my bar who’s as beautiful as you.” You can tell your words have struck a chord with her, she looks in your direction finally. Her flashy green eyes almost give you an invitation to hang around with her. Instinctually, you begin buying drinks for the two of you, filling up on the alcohol, and wanting to be a bit irresponsible with your money.
That night you two find yourselves taking a Lift back to your place, drunk and loose with each other, you both stumble into your living room, clutching tightly to each others bodies. You know what this means. Your slithering bodies grasp at your clothes, throwing them to the ground haphazardly as to rush the stripping process.
Your smooth scales rub together, twisting and turning in one another’s bodies, the rough textured scales feeling nice, cool, and slippery against each other. You feel a pressure building near the pressure just below your tail, a thin slit of a scale presses firmly against a similar slit of the female’s. She unhinges her jaw in pleasure, vocalizing in pleasure as the hardness just behind your slit massages her soft ventral scales. She begins to go crazy, rubbing her own soft scales against yours; her python body wrapping around yours, her sheer girth nearly double in size than yours. Her piercing white eyes stare into yours, the slits opening to fill the entire circular iris of her eye.
The scent molecules of a female ready to breed fills the air, your flickering tongue laps up her beautiful molecules, flying from her feathering clothes, draped over her muscular reptilian scales. The night you spend with your friend means the world to you, being able to show her this part of your life, you fall asleep without any troubles.
The next day, unbeknownst you blink your eyes awake.
“Nice night hon?” you ask aloud.
Your eyes cannot function with this amount of sunlight, you await her response. “You’re amazing Roxy.” You feel around the bed. “Roxy?” your hands clutch at the empty sheets next to you, looking around and sensing your environment, your vibration-sensing hearing organs don’t detect anyone else in your apartment!
Written by Driftingdragon on 29 December 2019
STD
After realizing you’ve risen alone, you leap out of bed, considering the possible damage this one night stand could have left you in under the long term. You fully understand the repercussions of being caught under these circumstances. The anxiety begins to well up in your stomach, weighing heavy like a chilling block of ice, growing colder rather than melting in the warmth of your stomach.
It doesn’t take you long to notice a kind of crawling sensation on your body, running laterally up and down the checkered patterns of your dark brown scales. A simple black dot runs across the lighter brown-tan colors of your scales. The movement frightens you, leaping to your feet, you trudge around the room, looking for the contact information of the individual who had spent last right with you.
“Roxy was it?” You think to yourself as you search some of your soiled clothes, crawling with small black mites.
You enter the shower in hopes to wash them off in the shower before you return to the bar this evening. Standing in the shower alone you can’t help but to ponder your decisions to bed that woman last night, you haven’t even checked if he had stolen anything.
“An appropriate trade for these little pesky assholes..” you say to yourself, as you scratch the areas where the tightest clothing rest on your body. You continue to yourself, spatting in discomfort as you discuss with yourself how upset you are over this situation. You cope with this by playing out the scenario multiple times, minutely editing some of the logistic facts in your or her responses to prototype various different scenarios.
Your anger seethed so quietly to yourself, that you had even considered firing her then and there, right in front of everyone. The option of humiliating her just as much as she did for you sounds good. Though you’re not too sure how good that would look to the patrons.
During your self enlightement over the weekend, you ulimately decide to simply converse with her. You plan to simply confront her during the week, once you see her again during work, mainly because the time you had to figure out a plan had ran out. But from then on you had mentally prepared yourself to have this serious conversatoin with Roxy, come monday.
Written by Driftingdragon on 31 December 2019
New Costumes
You leave immediately prior to your morning routines, making your way to work with the quickest possible efficiency, as to catch up with Roxy as soon as possible. The normal route to your job never seemed to take as long as it took today; you spent your morning worrying about Roxy and why she could have just ditched you like that, you should have known better!
When you enter the club that evening you barrel through the entrance, craning your head around to search the room of the familiar stripper who comes there every night: Roxy. You approach the bartender, a familiar face that you’ve checked in on multiple times this week.
“Evening Charles.” You say to him, the neatly pressed suit he wears rustles, as his attention is now occupied by your presence.
“Evening..” he replies quietly, not trying to speak out of turn.
“Have you seen Roxy?” The bartender looks as you confused, he clutches a sparkling glass in his hand, a work out rag in the other hand, turning the glass over to clean it. You pound your hands on the table, intimidating your servent as your booming voice shakes some of the furniture in the room. “Roxy!... Roxy.. The girl who works here. You know… the uhh… dancer.” your voice lowers, looking around at the filled room, now setting their sights on your rowdy behaviour.
The bartender’s now slinking behind his bar, submissively. His eyes lowered glances at you, before glancing over towards the wall of the bar. Your eyes meet his; guilt. A look that seems familiar to you. The bartender then looks over at the opposite side of the bar, directed towards the stage of the establishment.
Your gaze follows the gaze of your worker. You find Roxy on stage once again, performing, racking up her money’s worth of a paycheck from the floor of the stage. That doesn’t stop you from approaching her during her break and having a conversation about the whole situation.
Upon having a long deep talk with the woman, you’ve come to realize that your conversation with Roxy made you reconsider the entire emotional standpoint and call this a fair trade, deciding to search her closet for a set of new clothes as to make up for the infection of migratory crabs.
She slithers through her high rise condominium, leading you past wall-sized glass windows. A large wooden double door lies just within the threshold of her master bedroom, in the near distance you can see the master bed laid directly in the middle of the floor, taking up the majority of the space in the center of the room.
Your eyes shift forward to meet the enormous doors of the walk-in closet. The walls are lined2 with various hues, saturations, and values of outfits, a multitude of different styles meant to be lazily or pristinely juxtaposed atop one another to create the daily dress-up routine of your local hooker.
Various textures, materials, and styles of clothesline the walls, cut deep underneath hanging shelves along the walls of the closet. Those too were stuffed full of boxes, fur lined clothing, accessories, hat boxes, and much more. The
Written by Driftingdragon on 02 January 2020
The end (for now)