Become (MF, hypno, noncon, gender traitor - 917 words)

*Feminist academic Rachele accepts an unwise publishing deal.*

[(First published by me at AllTheseRoadworks.com)](https://alltheseroadworks.com/2023/07/12/story-become/)

As always, this story represents my kinks, not my politics.
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Rachele was an academic in the field of women’s studies, but had trouble finding anyone willing to publish her latest book on era-defining women throughout history.

She was approached by a rich businessman who she had seen attending several of her lectures. He introduced himself by the name Kyle, and asked her, “Which do you think is more powerful, words or pictures?”

“Words,” she said. “Pictures can capture a moment in time, but words can convey more complex ideas and inspire further thought.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “And we’ll see who’s right. I’m going to publish your book, with a top-shelf promotion budget, and personally arrange to have enough copies bought to make you a New York Times bestseller. We’ll make sure every young woman in the English-speaking world gets a copy of your book. And in return, you pose for one photo of my choice, you do whatever I require to make that photo perfect, and I have the full rights to use that photo any way I like, including as the author photo in your book.”

She dithered. She suspected from the way he was looking at her that he intended the photo to be pornographic. But she wasn’t ashamed of her body. And the opportunity to be a best-selling author - to be read by an entire generation - was intoxicating. She agreed, and signed the contract.

His first requirements for her were horrifying. “In the photo, I want you to be blonde and big-titted. I’ve already scheduled and paid for your breast enhancement surgery. Show up at the hospital in a week. Whether you keep them after the photograph is up to you.”

The contract was firm - she would owe substantial money if she backed out - so she got the surgery. She felt weird and slutty with her new fake tits. She felt - correctly - that friends who had once looked her in the eye were now constantly distracted by her boobs. None of her old clothes fit, and she felt like the ones she bought to replace them made her look like a prostitute. But it wasn’t the clothes, she knew - it was her. She had whore tits now. Once she dyed her hair blonde as well, the look was complete.

The photo shoot was a week after her breasts had healed. As she had suspected, Kyle told her he wanted a photo of her “acting like a slut”. He had a pretty big-titted girl present as a photographer, and a demeaning piece of lingerie for her to wear that exposed her boobs, which he paired with black stripper heels.

Kyle undressed and gave her directions. She knelt, and sucked his cock as he gripped her hair firmly. Then he had her strip and masturbate for the camera. Finally, he fucked her cunt, before ejaculating on her face and breasts. Through it all, the photographer took photo after photo.

It wasn’t too traumatic for Rachele. Kyle was quite attractive. His cock was satisfyingly hard and filling. It was even quite arousing, she admitted to herself, to be commanded and told what to do. She orgasmed loudly as he was thrusting into her pussy, and kissed him and thanked him shyly when he was done. She was blushing, of course - it was strange enough to do this was a stranger, let alone in front of another woman who was taking photos - but she couldn’t say it hadn’t been pleasurable.

Her book came out the following month. The photo Kyle had chosen to keep was of her on her knees, servicing his cock. It appeared, embarrassingly, as her author photo in her book, paired with the stark word in black lettering, “BECOME”. Kyle also had the photo plastered across billboards citywide, and all over the internet, promoting her book, again with that word “BECOME”. He had posters made of the image and, strangely, they sold, almost always to women.

Rachele spent a lot of time looking at that image. A lot of women did. That was because Kyle had done something very special to it - a new process his company had developed. Subtle patterns of pixels out of alignment, barely perceptible lines of flaws in the image, keyed to the very subtle differences between the female eye and the male eye, drew women’s gazes in, enrapturing them, making them suggestible. They would become entranced by that image of Rachele kneeling, fake udders bared, dressed like a whore, mouth full of cock, and they would gaze at it for hours, as the word “BECOME” bored its way into their brain...

Millions of women did read Rachele’s book, although often no further than her author photo. They did not come away from it with an understanding of great women through history, but rather with a deep need to get fake tits and blonde hair, bare their bodies, and service men’s cocks. Rachele had indeed reached a generation... and transformed them into submissive bimbos.

Rachele no longer cared. She spent her days rubbing her lovely naked plastic tits and crawling from man to man to suck their cocks. She was so eager to become that girl in her photo. She was collaborating with Kyle on her next book, which would be called “The Role of Women”, and would just be pictures of her kneeling, crawling, or lying on her back naked, with fresh deposits of cum on her face, breasts, and leaking from her pussy and anus...

(END)