Forced To Go Outside - Shorts TF
Tags: Inanimate, Clothing TF, Permanent, Object TF, Caption, Objectification
DescriptionIf you want to make a suggestion or have an unique idea? Join the Discord Server. Maybe there is a giveaway so don't miss it! Psss the uncensored versions are there as well!I delted it by accident so this a reupload!FORCED TO GO OUTSIDE - Shorts TFSunlight streams through your half-close…
I delted it by accident so this a reupload! FORCED TO GO OUTSIDE - Shorts TF Sunlight streams through your half-closed blinds onto your gaming setup: controllers, empty energy drink cans, and chip bags sitting on the coffee table. The monitor shows a new game named Battlefield 6, which was in open beta. College summer break stretches before you like an endless playground of free time and zero responsibility to play games. The door bursts open without warning. Your older sister barges in, bringing the scent of fresh shampoo and coconut body lotion. Her brown hair bounces with each confident step, cut in that perfect bob that frames her face better than any portrait. Brown eyes narrow at the disaster zone of your living space. "Jesus fucking Christ, when was the last time you showered?" She wrinkles her nose, surveying your room. You grip the controller tighter. "Didn't you learn to knock?" "Hey, bro, let's go outside. The weather's perfect, you know. Not too hot for your soft ass but not cold enough to call it autumn." Her lips curl into that familiar smirk that makes you want to throw something. You refuse to look up but catch her reflection in the television screen. The white t-shirt clings to her curves, completely soaked through. No bra underneath. Her black shorts hug her thick thighs, leaving nothing to the imagination. Heat rushes to your face. "What the actual fuck are you wearing?" She laughs, twirling in place. "What? Is there a problem? Did you see something interesting?" Her voice drops lower. "Maybe if you go with your super hot sister, you'll get real bitches instead of whatever digital girlfriend you're grinding for." The controller creaks under your grip. Ignore her. Keep playing. She'll eventually leave. "Fine. Be that way." Something cold and wet hits the back of your neck. A fine mist sprays across your skin. "What the hell?" You spin around, dropping the controller beside you on the couch. "What was that?" Your sister stands there, bottle in hand, expression unchanging. "Just a little motivation." The tingling begins at your fingertips. Subtle at first, like pins and needles after sleeping wrong. You stare at your hands. The skin darkens, shifting from your natural tone to deep obsidian. The texture changes, becoming smooth, almost rubbery. "What... what the fuck did you spray on me?" Panic rises in your throat. Your sister leans against the doorframe, watching with clinical interest. "Something from my biochem friend. She's been developing transformation potions. I volunteered to test some of her works." "But not me!" Your voice cracks. You attempt to stand, but your legs feel disconnected, foreign. "You weren't using your body for anything productive anyway." The sensation intensifies. Your clothes grow heavy, pressing down with impossible weight. Breathing becomes difficult. Each inhalation shallower than the last. Your heart pounds frantically before... nothing. The rhythm stops completely. "Nnnngghh!" The sound escapes your throat, but it sounds wrong; it sounds like fabric rubbing on itself. Your body begins to flatten against the couch cushions. The compression forces air from your lungs in a prolonged hiss. Your legs tingle intensely before contracting inward. Toes merge with feet. Feet dissolve into ankles. The process continues upward, stopping at mid-thigh. The sensation mirrors in your arms, fingers melding together before disappearing entirely. Your field of vision narrows, consciousness pulling inward. Skin cells transform into textile fibers. Bones liquify. Organs dissolve into nothingness. Your awareness spreads thin across what remains of your body. Heavy footsteps vibrate through you. Giant hands descend, grasping what used to be your sides. The sensation feels alien fabric against skin. Your sister lifts you up to her face, examining her handiwork. "Well, bro, I hope you like my idea. I knew your lame ass wouldn't want to go out to chill, so I made you my shorts." Her smile widens. "Now you have to go with me. Thanks to my friend from university, she even gave me more test potions if I feel like it." You attempt to scream, to curse, to beg. Nothing emerges except the slightest ruffle in your textile form. "Oh, nothing to say? Alright then, let's put you on." She tosses you to the floor. Air rushes through your fibers before you land with a soft thump. Her hands grab you again, pulling you open. Your consciousness stretches with the fabric. She steps into you, one leg at a time. The sensation of skin against your interior surface overwhelms your senses. You travel upward, guided by her hands, until you're pulled snug around her voluptuous thighs and ass. "Hmm, you are small. No wonder." She flexes her thighs experimentally. The movement stretches your material tight. The sensation shoots through your fabric consciousness, strangely pleasurable despite the horror. You feel every curve, every dimple of her skin. The warmth of her body penetrates your fibers. Her scent surr
