When A.I. Leads To T.V. By Throne (22 Pages) (Patreon)

WHEN A.I. LEADS TO T.V.

by Throne

© 2019-2035 QoS Comix All Rights Reserved

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to Devinwhitegurl@gmail.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

WHEN AI LEADS TO TV by Throne

"This is incredible," said Mort. "That fruity oddball Peabody, who we hired to work on our Artificial Intelligence program, solved the ancient spellcasting formula. I mean, the program he wrote for the AI system did it."

"That's great," said Lenny. "Except that we don't know what invoking the spell will unleash."

"No problem. All we do is tell Peabody that, since he provided the way to do it, he should have the honor."

"Honor? It's a spell of transformation. Who knows what it could do to that swishy egghead?"

"Exactly. To him. Not to us."

Lenny nodded. "Well, when you put it that way, it's a good idea. He takes all the risks and we reap the rewards."

"Right. Of course, we might not be able to tell if it changes him, because he's so weird already."

"Really. With his plucked eyebrows and the way that he's forever using tinted lip balm."

"Yuck." Mort made a face. "That stuff is like one step short of being lipstick. I'm pretty sure the guy is some kind of a fairy."

"Agreed. With his colorful shirts and tight pants. Maybe he likes to play dress-up. Imagine him in panties and stockings."

The two young men laughed. Peabody had often been the target of cruel remarks they made, though never to his face. But their condescending attitude toward him made it clear how little respect they had for the genius with the strange personal habits. He was due back from lunch any minute, so the two guys put on serious faces and waited. When he returned, they were quick to spring their plan. Soon they had the translation in front of him. Peabody's program had put it into phonetic English, so it could be read simply by pronouncing the groups of letters that formed equivalents of words from some lost language.

Mort told him, "Just read what's on the screen."

"We're going to leave the room," added Lenny. "To make it easier for you to... um... concentrate."

"Oh." Peabody's bland face puckered with thought. He pushed his large glasses up the bridge of his long nose. "Well, you're the bosses."

He sat in front of the screen on which the text was displayed. The other two hurried to absent themselves. From the next room, they watched through a small observation window. As Peabody mouthed the guttural words, the air around him seemed to thicken. Then it visibly swirled, with him at the center of a vortex. Streams of color appeared, circling around him until he was obscured from sight. Mort and Lenny stared with open mouths and wide eyes. When Peabody ceased speaking, the whirlpool slowed down, gradually grew transparent, and then was gone. He stood up and turned to the window. He still looked the same, except that his small hands were glowing.

"Hey, fellows," he said in his reedy voice. "Come on back in here."

The two who had tricked him looked at each other. They weren't sure if it was safe. But when Peabody repeated his words, they were compelled to obey. The two of them fell into lockstep as they reentered the room and stood before him.

Peabody asked, "Did you two leave me alone while I read that, because you thought I might get hurt?" They nodded. He focused more intently on them. "And have you been having private laughs over the fact that I'm somewhat... effeminate?" Again, they showed agreement, even though they tried not to. Coruscating ribbons of energy extended from the speaker's fingers and touched the paralyzed listeners. "Well, maybe you wouldn't think it was so funny if you learned to enjoy it yourselves."

He smiled, took a tube of lip balm from his pocket, and freshened up his mouth with it. This time, instead of being pale pink, the stuff was a darker shade of the same color. The two frozen figures waited anxiously to discover what would happen next. It didn't take long for them to find out. Peabody put away the compact tube and pointed at them. The fluctuating illumination from his fingertips grew. It touched them here and there. They could feel it tingling their skin. Then, to their horror, they saw their clothes dissolving. Peabody smiled. He continued his manipulations until they were naked. Mort and Lenny could see each other. Both of them had an average amount of body hair and their penises were nothing to be ashamed of.

Peabody said, "Let's give the pair of you a new look."

As the light from his hands turned yellow, it removed all body hair, wherever it touched them. Soon, before their startled gazes, they saw each other left smooth and pink all over. It was an unsettling sight. Peabody smiled his approval. Then he aimed one hand at each uncovered crotch. The light grew orange. He jiggled his hands and the owners of the lab, turning their eyes down, were astonished to witness their genitals shrinking. Their cocks were reduced to mere nubs, about the size of the final joint on a thumb, and their balls shrank to proportionate size. The sight made them whimper and sob. Peabody snickered.

"Don't you like being naked? Hmmm? With your teeny wienies visible? Well then, how about if I cover you up? I'm still learning to use my new abilities, but I think I can do what I'm thinking of, because I have such strong mental images of what I want to see.

After all, I'm one of those crossdressers who you obviously despise so much."

He licked his tinted lips and his brow furrowed in concentration. First, he directed the mystical energy from both hands at Mort. It shifted into a rainbow of colors. Miraculously, a pair of silky red panties appeared, as if they were being painted onto Mort's pelvic region. They were a perfect fit, nice and tight, accenting the fact that his male parts had been reduced to almost nothing. Peabody moved to one side of him and considered his rear end, which was still rather flat and masculine. The empowered one nodded and Mort's buns swelled. His hips widened. His thighs grew and his calves became shapelier.

"Not bad," Peabody opined, "except that now your top half is out of balance with the lower parts. But that's easy enough to fix, using the talents you two caused me to acquire."

He held his hands at arm's length, palms flattened. Waves of color flowed toward Mort's chest, causing him to grow a pair of breasts the size of grapefruits, tipped with prominent nipples and wide aureoles. The transformed man goggled at his new and unwanted acquisitions. Next, Peabody gifted him with a cropped camisole top in lavender green. It buttoned down the front and was well filled by Mort's new boobs. It was a bizarre sight, with him appearing male from the neck up and very unmanly everywhere else.

Peabody decided, "Your new name is Marla. Let me hear you introduce yourself."

Mort's mouth opened but what came out was high, soft and sultry. He said, "Hello, there. I'm Marla."

Next, Peabody turned his attention to Lenny. He performed similar actions, putting him into a shiny gold thong and a tube top. The latter was stretched out as his chest enlarged into twin cantaloupes. Peabody eyed them both before making Mort's bust the same size as Lenny's, then adding more inches to each one's backside and hips. As a finishing touch, he gave them both tall flashy heels, along with the ability to walk in them as if they'd been doing it for years. He had the pair strut around, thrusting out their busts and swaying their hips.

"There you go," Peabody congratulated himself. "A couple of dream girls. Marla and -- let's call Lenny -- Leanne. I want you to remember your male selves, so I'm letting you keep your dicks."

"But... but..." Lenny's voice was the same as Mort's. "They're so tiny."

"Of course. You'd look silly with your former bulges down there now." He paused, then offered, "Who wants their hair and face done?"

Though they were obviously trying to remain silent, the two curvy males bounced up and down on their heels and waved at Peabody. It made their new tits dance.

"Me, me, me," Mort squealed. "Me too," piped Lenny.

Peabody took a few moments to formulate what he would do to their hair and faces. He smiled as he went to work, his fingers moving nimbly, just in front of their features. Eyes were boldly outlined, lashes grew long and thick, noses shrank, and lips pillowed up and up and up, after which they were given color. Mort's mouth was made bright crimson and Lenny's was turned bold magenta. The two of them checked each other and were plainly upset. Then Peabody had their hair lengthen somewhat and styled it into pixie cuts. Mort's hair was a gaudy yellow and Lenny's became flaming orange.

"I don't want to be a girl," Mort whined.

"You can't leave us like this," Lenny protested. "It's like we're a couple of bimbos."

"Heh, heh." Peabody was enjoying himself. "Bimbo drag queens," he clarified. "Ones who have had marvelous boob-jobs and butt enhancements."

"You have to change us back," Mort insisted.

"Do I?" Peabody shook his head. "I don't think so. Maybe you'll both be more accepting if you share a hug."

Under his fixed stare, the made-over guys stopped letting their concerns show. With softening expressions, they took Peabody's advice as a command. Opening their arms, they moved into a tight embrace. It made those two sets of fat knockers press together.

"See?" Peabody said. "Isn't that better? Now let's see a nice deep kiss, with lots of tongue."

Mort gagged. Lenny's lips were twisted into a grimace. Even though they hated what they had to do, their controller's power made them give in. Opening their mouths, they locked lips and swirled their tongues all over each other. When they were allowed to separate, they were on the verge of tears.

Peabody chuckled. "Where I'm taking you next, you won't be allowed to act so disgusted. How about this? I'll permit you to be as sickened as possible by what you do, but not to show it outwardly. Won't that be amusing? I mean, for me."

He gestured toward himself, and his rather nerdy attire was turned into something more stylish. It made him look a lot less like a loser. Then he motioned toward empty air and a portal appeared. Through the opening, everyone could see a dimly lit tunnel stretching ahead. Peabody ushered the recipients of his revenge into the curious passage. They walked forward, appearing confident but with hints of distress behind their eyes. When they emerged, a minute later, they were in an alley. Stepping out of the shadows, they found themselves across the street from a club that had a modest sign over the door, which announced that it was called simply T.F.

Peabody explained, "That stands for Tranny Fanny's. It's not wise to include the full name, not with guys like you two used to be wandering around the city, and possibly making trouble. Let's go in and have some fun."

"If you say so," Mort responded uncertainly. "It's not like we have a choice," Lenny amplified.

They passed through the plain door and found themselves confronted by a burly security person, who was a man in a tight yellow dress that was covered by large red polka dots. He had on a towering wig and garish cosmetics, as well as long artificial finger nails.

Examining Mort and Lenny, he said, "You girls are new around here but I can see you'll fit right in." He checked their crotches. "If the MC decides to have a pintsize pecker competition, you two will definitely win it. Mind giving me a peek?"

Peabody answered for them, saying, "I'm sure they'd be happy to do that for you, Vulva."

The heavy queen peered at Peabody and said, "Whoa. Petal. I didn't recognize you without your usual wig and face and tits. What's the occasion?"

"I'm helping my new friends here get acquainted around the club."

"Well, I'm sure they'll be a big hit."

Peabody told his companions, "Show the nice lady what you've got. Don't hide your candy."

Blushing vividly, the two involuntarily feminized males lowered their lingerie in front, allowing their miniaturized members to be shown off. Vulva leaned forward, made-up eyes wide and painted mouth in an exaggerated smile.

She concluded, "There are customers inside who will love those micro-pickles you're sporting. Have fun being fondled, sisters."

Peabody coaxed his charges to pass through a second door, which they had no choice but to do. Beyond that was a spacious room with a low ceiling. There were colored lights overhead and tables along the walls. A bar occupied one corner. Music played, with a strong beat but low volume. Some cross-dressed patrons were moving to the rhythm in the middle of the floor, being eyeballed by nattily attired men at the tables. When the music stopped, the exhibitionists moved among the seated customers, interacting with the them. As another tune began, some of the dancers returned to the center of the room, but many stayed with men who had struck up conversations with them.

Peabody said, "I'm going to the bar to get myself a drink. You two get out there and show off what you've got. Or should I say, what I gave you? Do like the other airheads. When the music stops, go and say hello to those nice gentlemen. Tits out, Marla. Shake your ass, Leanne. Send out some heavy sex vibes."

With their minds in turmoil but their faces placid, they did as they were told. When AI translated the ancient spell, it had given Peabody not only the power to turn them into convincing TVs, but also to control their minds. He took a seat at the bar and ordered himself a drink. His stool had a chairback and was quite

comfortable, as he relaxed and watched his two victims make their walk of shame around the center of the floor. They swayed to the music, licking their lips and fluttering their curved eyelashes. Peabody's last words to them dictated the way they were humiliating themselves.

Mort whispered to Lenny, "We have to get out of this somehow. I can't stay stuck in this outrageous body."

Lenny hissed back at him, "Those guys at the tables are ogling us with bad intent. What do they want to do to us?"

"Whatever it is, it won't be good."
"But I feel drawn to them. Like I want to make them happy."

"Me, too. It's that damned Peabody. He's compelling us to feel that way."

Against their will, they began to move closer to a table where two middle-aged men leered openly at their curvaceous figures and trashy appearance. Mort turned away from them and rolled his butt. Lenny pulled back his arms, to give his melons added prominence. The two dancers faced each other and ground their pelvises together in a lewd display. Then the music faded. They glanced toward the bar, from where Peabody smiled and nodded, then motioned for them to visit the interested parties. Feeling nauseated inside, but smiling nevertheless, the guys sauntered over to the table.

Mort leaned over, to show off his heavy rack. The buttons of his abbreviated camisole threatened to pop. "Hi, I'm Marla." He sounded like the birdbrained bimbo he resembled.

Lenny puckered up his already fat lips, crossed his arms under his considerable bust, and lifted his jugs higher, so they strained his tube top. "I'm Leanne. Do you like my outfit? I mean, what there is of it?" He giggled mindlessly.

"You girls look terrific," said one of the men. "I'm Duke. Why don't you sit on my lap, Marla, and we'll talk about the first thing that pops up."

"And I'm Ray," said the other man. "Come here, Leanne, so we can get better acquainted."

The real males pulled back their chairs. Mort sat on Duke's thighs. Lenny straddled Ray's upper legs and planted himself there, facing the pleased patron. Mort glanced around the room and saw another crossdresser, one who wanted to be there, slipping under a table to free a smiling customer's cock. Lenny spotted it too. They watched as the kneeling tranny engulfed that man-meat in her lipstick-bright mouth. Duke and Ray noted where their attention had shifted.

"You girls like what you see over there," suggested Duke. "Don't you?"

"And you'd like to get in on some action like that yourselves," added Ray. "Wouldn't you?"

The helpless twosome wanted to disagree, to get up, and to head for the exit, as fast as they could in their fuck-me shoes. Instead, they rubbed their tits against the guys and acted coy, tittering and squirming their asses. This was the most awful situation of which they could conceive. Instead of trying to explain that they were straight and didn't want any of what was occurring, they ran their tongues over their lower lips suggestively. Then Mort stuck two fingers into Lenny's mouth, upon which his buddy sucked so hard that it hollowed his cheeks. Then Lenny poked his thumb between Mort's thick lips, which instantly sealed themselves around it, so he could suckle like a baby with an especially large pacifier. The picture they made was perversely erotic. Their hands went to each other's boobs and played with them through their thin coverings.

Inside their heads they heard Peabody's voice. "Go on, you dumb, fat-titted, tramps. Give those guys what they want. Stop flirting and start sucking on their dongs. They think you're just a couple of cock-hungry sluts with a big appetite for spunk."

How could Peabody be communicating that way? His powers must still be growing. When they looked toward him, he had one hand on his knee, with a forefinger pointed at them. The tip of that finger glowed, though not enough for others to spot. Tiny flecks of light trailed from it. When they reached Mort and Lenny, they went straight to their nipples and between their legs. As they arrived, the guys were seized by overwhelming lust. A second stream of firefly-like specks came and entered their mouths. Under the colored lights of the club, they were seen only by their recipients. As they landed on the waiting tongues, they provoked oral cravings.

Peabody's disembodied words urged, "Get down under the table, you cocksuckers. It will make those itsy-bitsy dicks I gave you feel so wonderful, the whole time you have full-size tools in your mouths. And don't worry about any gag reflexes, because I've eliminated those. You're both very capable of giving deep-throat like you're addicted to it. Get busy. I'll be watching."

Barely able to believe what they were doing, both eased off the laps they had been occupying and repositioned themselves on their knees, under the table. With a minimum of help from the seated men, they got those cocks free. Seeing full-size ones, even in the dim light where they were, reminded them that their own had been reduced to laughably small dimensions. Their boobs rubbed against the men's legs. Mort and Lenny got their mouths into action, doing all the things they used to love having girls do for them. It took them to their deepest level of humiliation so far. The men held the heads that were between their legs and occasionally spoke instructions.

"Suck just the head for a while."

"Kiss your way from the root to the tip... slowly."

The fellators' disgrace knew no bounds, particularly because they were visible to those at other tables and the bar. At that moment, they would have paid generously for a concealing tablecloth. Their ordeal stretched out through the next several numbers that played on the sound system. Despite any background noise, each of them could hear themself and the other making wet mouth sounds. Then the two men being serviced showed signs that they

were nearing their climactic moments. Mort's stomach clenched. The muscles in Lenny's lower back tensed. Neither of them wanted what was about to happen to occur. Simultaneously, the seated figures spurted their cream. With no alternative, the kneelers gagged down as much of it as they could. Not until the satisfied pair were fully soft, was permission given by Peabody, to release them and get out from under the table. The two transformed guys stood up shakily. Their lips and chins had semen on them.

Peabody whispered a command that only they could hear. It was unthinkably disgusting. With most of the people in the room still watching, Mort and Lenny stepped toward each other, brought their faces close together, and locked lips for a prolonged kiss, with plenty of tongue twisting and semen sharing. Their audience was so appreciative that spontaneous applause erupted. At another signal from Peabody, they broke off the kiss and curtsied to the room.

Moments later, while they were still trying to figure out what to do next, Peabody appeared by their sides. He said, "I spoke to the owner and told him that you were available to give a private show in one of the rooms upstairs. Once I mentioned how miniscule your peckers are, he contacted some of his regulars who are big fans of little dicks on sissies. They'll all be gathered and ready to see you perform, very soon."

"Perform?" Mort squeaked.
"You mean like lip-synching?" Lenny asked in a wispy voice.

"Well, there will be lips involved," Peabody told them.

He took each of them by a hand and walked them to a curtain alongside the bar, behind which was a door. There was a flight of steps, at the top of which was a hallway, with doors all along either side. Unable to refuse, they went to the end of the corridor. The waiting door was ajar. From behind it they could hear voices exchanging comments. Inside, there was a bed in the center and chairs along the walls. All of the furniture was expensive.

Speaking out loud, Peabody said to his two charges, "Say hello to these nice men. Let them get a feel for who you are."

'Get a feel' turned out to mean 'take a feel', as the appreciative half dozen attendees pawed their prey's buns, squeezed their titties, and grabbed their groins, to marvel at the extreme smallness of those male parts. Mort and Lenny writhed under every touch. Unfortunately for them, to the men it seemed like they were enjoying it, especially because they couldn't wipe away the dopey smiles they wore. No one would believe that they weren't really TV bimbos.

Another man entered. He was tall and very butch. Pebody put a hand on his shoulder and said to the others, "I think you all know Dave, our host and the owner of this fine establishment."

There was a murmur of agreement. Those roving hands didn't stop their explorations of the bulging boobs and butts, or the diminutive dingles.

Dave announced, "We have something extra special here this evening. Marla and Leanne will be giving us a super-hot performance. First they're going to strip each other, so you can better appreciate their assets."

Mort and Lenny turned to Peabody for help. Instead, he simply echoed Dave's words. Mortified to be seen doing it, they each removed the other's minimal coverings. The panties and thong came off last. When they were naked and the onlookers got their first close-up view of what had been hidden below their waists, there were gasps and exclamations.

"Their bits are so barely-there."
"They could jerk off with tweezers."
"With no pubic hair, their junk looks so immature."

Peabody pointed out, "What's especially interesting is that they can be stimulated and feel wildly aroused, but they can't get stiff and it would be almost impossible for them to finish. We're talking about immeasurable frustration, with all their sexual energy being channeled elsewhere, like to satisfy men such as yourselves."

Dave interjected with, "Right now, Marla and Leanne have something delightful to show us. They're going to get on this bed and try to reach orgasms, even though they know it's probably not going to happen."

That was when Peabody mentally sent instructions to the naked pair. They got onto the mattress, with Mort facing the head of the bed and Lenny pointed toward the foot. Then they started kissing each other, their mouths still messy. They licked each other's lips. Next, they moved on to necks and shoulders. Soon they were burying their faces in cleavage and spiritedly mouthing nipples. That last form of contact started them wriggling like snakes. Had Peabody made those erogenous zones hypersensitive? The watchers were fascinated. All too soon, Mort and Lenny had their faces lined up with the waiting genitals. They licked those teeny balls and easily took them completely into their mouths. Then they concentrated on the shortened stalks, now barely protruding at all. No matter how they nuzzled and lapped and suctioned, it was to no avail. They even tried tweaking nipples while gobbling mini-cocks, but all it achieved was to mount frustration to impossibly high levels. They held onto each other's hair and moaned, begging their partner to try harder.

"It might be possible to push them over the finish line with some anal intrusion," Peabody opined, "but I wouldn't want to force them into trying that. Instead, I'll wait to see if they ask for it. Not unless those two beg to be taken from behind will I allow it."

Mort and Lenny were desperate for relief, yet just the thought of being drilled up the tunnel of love froze their voices. How could they ever ask for such a thing to be done to them? At the same time, how could they not plead for it, if there was no other way to reach sexual nirvana? It was a nasty double-bind. The two of them rearranged themselves so they were face-to-face once more.

"Wow," said one of the onlookers. "I'd love to see the two of them go down on Big Mike together. Imagine them taking care of all that dark meat."

"How about bringing the Tease Twins in to keep them turned on, hour after hour after hour?"

"Get them matching glory holes." "Cover them with cooking oil."

"Make them gain about a hundred pounds each. Turn them into chubby love pets."

"Pump up those lips a whole lot more."

Mort and Lenny were rattled to hear all those thoughts. Was there a chance that any of them could become reality?

As if reading their minds, Peabody said, "You know, Marla and Leanne are up for anything. Very submissive. Would love to be spanked every day. And they're into financial domination, so they'll be signing over all their assets to Dave, in exchange for being allowed to live here, upstairs over the club, so they can enjoy their preferred lifestyle from now on."

Mort and Lenny wanted to object, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, they hugged and kissed and burbled, as if their fondest wishes were being granted. They gushed out streams of enthusiastic words. Once their money and property were all gone, how could they even hope to escape this madness? And with

Peabody in possession of all his supernatural skills, it would take a miracle to save them. If only they hadn't disparaged the unmanly computer whiz behind his back, and treated him poorly to his face. Their male selves would vanish from public, never to be seen again. From now on this club, T.F., Tranny Fanny's, would be their world.

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