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Patreon Exclusive Female Shapeshift 3: MTF Lingerie (Patreon)

Published:
2025-07-03 21:37:10
Imported:
2026-06
Tags:
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Content

Multiple MTF shapeshifts to women in black lingerie and impersonating them to whoever enters the house.

Files

Previews only

Patreon Exclusive Female Shapeshift 3: MTF Lingerie

Multiple MTF shapeshifts to women in black lingerie and impersonating them to whoever enters the house.

Comments

PJC92

What's the prompt for this one?

Possession and Shapeshift Hub
>>179642907

Sorry for the late response, I don't have the prompt for all of them but this is what I could find: A quiet, intimate family room at night. Soft lamplight glows from one corner, casting warm shadows across the couch and carpet. The hum of the house is low, still — everything feels paused, like a breath held too long. Lounging in a sprawl of casual confidence, is your best friend Carlos — 18, in a black t-shirt and jeans, sneakers still on. His legs are wide, his posture relaxed, but his is startled when he hears the sound of a door knocking. But Carlos exhales—and then it starts. Not with a glow. Not with a shimmer. No magic trigger. He just… starts to change. His head dips forward slightly, as if dizzy. When he lifts it again, his expression is different. Jawline softening. Cheekbones lifting. Lips thickening and parting slightly, touched with a subtle gloss of moisture. His brow arches. His features realign with eerie precision—older, feminine, composed. Beautiful. Long, voluminous dark brown hair spills down from his scalp in a sudden cascade, falling across his shoulders in styled waves. His shirt tightens—then tears, dissolving into lacy black lingerie that clings to a rapidly shifting form. His chest swells, full and heavy, the lace cups rising to support new weight with a seductive bounce and jiggle. His torso tightens, waist cinching inward while his hips expand out against the couch. His jeans ripple and vanish entirely, replaced by matching lace panties that hug her hips and barely conceal smooth, shapely thighs. Her legs cross instinctively. Her skin smooths into a flawless golden tone. Her arms shrink and soften. Fingernails extend just slightly, painted. Her posture adjusts — not tentative, not shy — but playfully dominant. She doesn’t move from the couch. She doesn’t need to. She’s her now. Or at least, some jaw-dropping, lingerie-clad version of her. She shifts her weight, crosses her legs. A breathy chuckle escapes her lips as she glances down at her new form, inspecting her chest with her hands, then back at you with slow, deliberate heat. “Welcome home darling, how do I look?” She leans in, smirking with wicked delight.

shawn

if it's alright to ask which generator, did you use?