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  "description": "A dark little volunteer service that turns people into useful tools for the next year in exchange for some credit in society…if they can remember to get turned back later. \n\nCommissioned by a-lycotonum\n\nIf you want to get a commission for yourself, keep an eye on my journals and bluesky https://bsky.app/profile/dracthewriter.bsky.social for updates on when I'm open.\n\nAlways eager to see comments, so please leave one if the mood strikes you.\n\nEnjoy.",
  "description_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'>A dark little volunteer service that turns people into useful tools for the next year in exchange for some credit in society&hellip;if they can remember to get turned back later. <br /><br />Commissioned by a-lycotonum<br /><br />If you want to get a commission for yourself, keep an eye on my journals and bluesky <a href=\"https://bsky.app/profile/dracthewriter.bsky.social\" rel=\"nofollow\">https://bsky.app/profile/dracthewriter.bsky.social</a> for updates on when I&#039;m open.<br /><br />Always eager to see comments, so please leave one if the mood strikes you.<br /><br />Enjoy.</span>",
  "writing": "[b][u][center]Transformative Services\nFor a-lycotonum\nBy Draconicon[/center][/u][/b]\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nLisa looked up from her phone again, glancing around the waiting room to see if anyone else had been called back. Nobody had; the clock had barely moved another five minutes, and the receptionist on the other side of the room - likely a permanent member of the Selective Services, considering the way that her fur looked glossier and better cared for than some - continued to give the same dead-eyed stare to her computer as she had from the start. Lisa shook her head, looking away from the panther and back to her phone. \n\n[i]It’s such a waste of time…[/i]\n\nDespite her annoyance, she was glad that was the only thing she felt. Some of the others gathered in the waiting room - a frat boy to her right and a sorority girl to her left - were both reacting much worse. He was shaking in his sports jacket, while she was constantly twirling her hair in nervous spirals. Neither of them were okay. Compared to that, she’d take being irritated rather than being that on-edge. \n\nThen again, she probably had quite the advantage. \n\nLisa chuckled, shaking her head as she flicked from social media over to the notice that popped into her email last night. It was as simple as it was frank. \n\n[i]Report to your local Selective Services: Transformed Division tomorrow for assignment.[/i]\n\nShaking her head, Lisa occupied herself by scrolling through it again, even though she knew what it said. ‘Selective Services’ was some kind of draft, as far as she knew. People got a bonus for submitting themselves to the lottery, so everyone did it, but most people didn’t get called up. It was some kind of volunteer work, she knew that much; if you got called up, you were supposed to report to the local branch and submit for work based on what your latest testing said you were good at. \n\n[i]Probably why these two are so freaked out,[/i] she thought, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the jock as he hugged himself around the middle. [i]I bet these two haven’t seen a single A in their lives…[/i]\n\nThe lower your grades, the more likely you were to be lumped into the Labor Transformation Division instead of something cushier and easier. Lisa had no doubt that she was due the latter; considering she was on the honor roll, how she’d managed to graduate high school with honors and was in advanced placement in college already, she doubted that anyone would want to waste someone like her working in the fields or wherever else the Labor groups went. She’d be turned into something more interesting, more fitting for her. Might even meet someone that met her standards, for once. \n\n“Lisa Bonds?” the panther said. \n\n“Hmm? Oh, that’s me,” she said, standing up and putting her phone in her pocket. “Anything you need from me?”\n\n“Not really, dear; all the paperwork is digital these days. Unless you forgot anything that needs updating from when you signed up?”\n\n“No, that should all be fine.”\n\n“Wonderful. Through the door, then, that’s a good girl.”\n\nShe let that pass; no point in pissing off the staff. \n\nStill, she smiled as she walked through the sliding glass doors at the other end of the waiting room and entered the grand corridor of the facility. She’d always wondered just what it was like to have a different body; she’d find out shortly if it was as good as she’d imagined it to be. \n\nStill, even her anticipation took a back seat to the sheer scale of the facility. The Selective Services: Transformed Division was more like a campus than a single facility. Now that she was inside, it felt like it went on forever, stretching out as far as her eyes could see and still not quite stopping. Lisa almost wondered if the building was bigger than the college campus. It might just be. \n\nShe followed the signs for ‘Intakes and Injections’. The email had been quite clear as to the process. She was supposed to sign in, go for her injection, and then report for orientation, where the transformation would begin. Lisa had already internalized all that and had every confidence that it would go just fine. \n\nPassing down the shiny white walls, she kept spotting her reflection on other glass doors and windows. It felt like she was walking alongside a different her, a version of herself that wasn’t going to get transformed and would continue life as a human. She imagined that person would have ended up somewhere different, likely somewhere less advanced - after all, having some Selective Services work on your resume was quite impressive. Should be, considering how you were giving up your body that you were born with to get it. \n\n[i]Of course, I put in the work, so it shouldn’t be that bad for me,[/i] she thought, pausing at a t-junction and checking the signs. [i]I should be getting into the research section, or maybe the delivery group, at worst. I’m too good a student to waste on the lower-end stuff.[/i]\n\nLisa turned right, followed by the blond flash of her reflection in the glass. She couldn’t help but be reminded of how much shorter she was than the average person, perhaps only five-foot-one, and how the reflection kind of taunted her with that. Maybe the transformation would grant her a little bit of height for the year. \n\n[i]Maybe I’ll get lucky enough to get an owl transformation,[/i] she thought as she kept walking. [i]Get assigned to the night shift as a lab assistant or something. That would be just about perfect, considering they get compensated at a much higher rate…[/i]\n\nAnd she thought that she’d look good as an owl. A soft beak, fluffy ankle bands and talons, feathers that were gorgeous, soft, and quiet: it would be a perfect look for someone like her. She’d look the ace in class that she’d always been. \n\nFinally, she found the right room. Rapping her knuckles on the I&I door, it opened almost immediately. An older man waved her forward, pulling his lab coat on as he stepped out from behind a desk and gestured toward an exam table in the middle of the room. \n\n“Lisa Bonds, correct?” he asked, his salt-and-pepper hair bristling as he reached for her chart. \n\n“That’s me. I’m looking forward to this.”\n\n“I doubt that anyone really does, ma’am, but I appreciate the willingness.”\n\nShe sat down, pulling one sleeve up. Her skirt fell down to her ankles, a sensible thing, and her flats kicked back and forth as her feet hung over a foot above the floor. The doctor walked over to her, pulling a tray of injections over. \n\n“How many of those am I going to have to take?” she asked, wincing as she imagined dozens of needles. “I’ve never done this before, so -”\n\n“Just one.”\n\n“Then why -”\n\n“Because everyone gets something different, girl. You’re here for what we choose, based on your grades. So, shut up and let me read the chart.”\n\n[i]Rude,[/i] she thought, but kept her mouth shut. No point in pissing off the staff, as she’d already decided. \n\nThe doctor looked down at her chart. He was completely quiet as he flipped through the pages on the clipboard, sometimes going back and forth. Lisa bit back the urge to brag about her grades, even going so far as to literally bite her tongue to keep from giving into the temptation. The last thing she needed was her doctor thinking that she knew better. \n\nFinally, he put the clipboard down and picked up one of the syringes. Flicking the side and squirting a bit of the solution out the tip, he pushed her sleeve up further and lined the needle up with her upper arm. \n\n“So, what am I getting?” she asked, a tiny smile creeping up the side of her face. “Something on the night shift? Research work? Delivery?”\n\n“Labor,” he said. \n\n“What?! That - that’s impossible. I just - I have straight-As, I graduated top of my class in high school, and - wait, wait, I didn’t say - you can’t -”\n\nThe needle slid in and the heat of the injection spread under her skin a scant second later. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the clear liquid running into her, imagining it already spreading through her veins and carrying the transformative genome packages through her body. The needle came free a second later, the skin healing up instantly, because of course it did. All the transformations carried a regenerator in them, one that kicked in before the actual transformation did. \n\n“Why?” she whispered. \n\n“You really think you’re that special?” the doctor said, shaking his head and pushing the tray of needles away. “Everyone’s pushing for straight-As these days. There’s so many straight-A students that we gotta do a lottery for anyone getting the cushy stuff. Hell, some of them are flat-out bribing their way in.”\n\n“But I didn’t - I worked hard!”\n\n“Then hard labor should be easy for you, shouldn’t it?” The old man shook his head. “Anyway, get your ass to orientation. Room O12.”\n\n“...”\n\n“Get going, girl. I got twenty more injections to do before the end of the day.”\n\nShe hopped down from the table, her head spinning. What…what had just happened? How…how…\n\n#\n\nOrientation started thirty minutes later. In the meantime, Lisa had been joined by the jock and sorority sister that she’d shared the waiting room with. They nursed their arms the way that she was desperately trying not to do. \n\n[i]I’m not like them,[/i] she thought as their orientation officer took the stage on the other side of the auditorium. [i]I’m not some sports-brained idiot or some party girl bimbo. I worked for this. I tried. I really tried.[/i]\n\nShe felt like her heart should have been pounding through her chest, but either some transformation had already occurred - strengthening her heart and lungs - or the regenerator in the injection was keeping her from stressing her body too hard. She hated it. At the very least, she should be allowed her own emotional reactions. \n\nIt didn’t help that she was trying to spot what kind of transformation she was going to get. Labor had a collection of different things, usually equine or bovine, or something in that region. Farm animals, hard-working beasts, things that had strength and stamina and not a lot of anything else. She kept touching her arms, checking her hands, looking at her face. Had something changed? Was she losing anything? Gaining anything? \n\nShe didn’t know, and it scared her. \n\nThe woman on-stage cleared her throat, forcing Lisa to look up and pay attention. \n\n“The thirty of you have been selected for the Labor Division for the coming year. Those of you that do well can leave by summer break next year; those of you that fail to live up to expectations will be kept for a second year until you’ve done enough to justify your transformation and volunteer work,” she said, speaking in a clipped voice with her hands behind her back. “In a few short minutes, your transformations will begin. There is no stopping it now; the genome packages in your veins are irreversible once applied, and only degrade over time. If you try to find a way to turn back before a year is up, you will only mutate yourself into a hybrid; if that happens, then the transformation may actually become permanent, so we recommend that you don’t attempt anything stupid out of desperation.”\n\nLisa gritted her teeth. She wanted to lash out, to shout at their orientation officer for what they’d done. This wasn’t fair. She wasn’t supposed to be here. She wasn’t - she had worked hard. She wasn’t an idiot like the others. They were wasting her brains and - \n\n“I understand that some of you are not happy. Rest assured, that will be fixed in a few short minutes.”\n\nLisa shook her head. Even if she became something else, she wouldn’t - \n\nA sudden spasm rocked her arm. She almost punched the chair in front of her as every muscle seized. Before she could try and figure out what it was, the same spasm locked up one of her legs, then her back. \n\n“Ah…ah!”\n\n“It seems that we’ve begun. I suggest that everyone find an open space. As fast as possible.”\n\nThis was the real thing. Lisa all but threw herself to the ground, not daring to stay in her chair. Someone else started shaking behind her but didn’t react as quickly; they suddenly arched their back, shaking and sliding on their seat. They spasmed, their head cracking against the back of their chair. The regenerator would take care of any injury, but it wouldn’t be pleasant to say the least. \n\nMeanwhile, she was on all fours, her arms and legs supporting her as muscle groups clenched and released. Her clothes were already feeling tighter, her top getting pulled taut around her shoulders. Clench, release, clench, release; with every new tension burst, her muscles were growing, getting thicker along her back, her abs pulling tighter to her stomach and core. Her legs shook, her thighs and calves fluttering like a painless Charlie horse cramp was running through them. \n\n“Nnngh…”\n\n“Ugh…”\n\n“Ah…ah…”\n\nPants and huffs and whimpers filled the auditorium as different people were struck down by the transformation. Lisa could barely catch her breath as the expansion spread, running from her muscles to her spine. It felt like someone had seized hold of the back of her neck and her hips and was slowly pulling both of them further and further apart, dragging her out, making her bigger, taller. \n\nCrack. Pop. Crack. Pop. \n\nAs she stretched, something pushed at the back of her waistband. Reaching back with one shaky hand, she managed to pull at her skirt just enough to get it clear of the rising bump that would become her tail. She remembered that much, at least, and - \n\nRIIIP!\n\nHer shoulders finally punched through her top, ripping through her shirt without any further resistance. Her bra went next, popping and snapping as her new muscles broke it. It fell in two pieces, hitting the ground as her breasts swung free and - \n\n“Nnngh…fuck…”\n\nHer voice was…lower? Not masculine, but lower, and it briefly distracted her from the infernal itch that started just under her skin. She reached for her throat - was it longer? Just a little, her neck longer than it had been, but…but it was the fur that was growing in that really caught her attention. \n\nIt was bristly, but not in the way a pig would be - thank god, she didn’t think she could have handled being a sow - but not in any attractive way. She pulled her hand back, her fingernails already thickening and darkening, going a dull gray and becoming blunter than they had been. The backs of her hands were covered in a similar dull gray fur, as bristly as what was growing out of her face, neck, shoulders - \n\n[i]Donkey…they’re…they’re making me into a donkey.[/i]\n\nA hysterical laugh nearly escaped her. She clamped down on that, refusing to lose any more dignity. She had to…had to…\n\nHer head ached as her jaws stretched out, her skull warping inside her skin. The transformation was painless, but no less disturbing as things popped, cracked, and pulled inside, healed over instantly, adjusted for, compensated for, but - \n\nHer ears pulled up along the sides of her head, her lips pulling back over a longer jaw. Her teeth felt flatter, more like grinding powerhouses rather than the multitude of different kinds of teeth she had before. Her arms, thick and burly, felt like some brawny farm-woman’s limbs rather than her delicate hands from before, and - \n\nRIIIIP!\n\nShe arched her back as she felt her hips rip through her skirt, and further down, she felt other pressures. Her sensible flats were ripping at the sides, her feet slowly growing rounder and larger as they became hooves. Still gasping for breath, shaking from head to toe, Lisa reached out for support. Her fumbling hand eventually found a chair that had already been kicked down, and she forced herself up to something like a kneeling position. \n\nAll around the room, other students were changing just like her. The sorority woman was completely naked now, her chest blossoming outward, her breasts falling forward and surging to a size that any milk-maid would have envied. Her hips were wide and her ass thick as she fell back on it, her legs spread so far apart that her pussy was completely on display and - \n\nAnd it was changing, swelling, a black line merging between her pussy and her asshole in a teardrop shape that framed both holes perfectly. They swelled, puffing up and becoming more prominent. Lisa could feel the same thing happening to her, her sex and her anus pushing out, becoming harder and harder to hide between her legs. Her underwear pressed tight to both of them, rubbing over the swelling, sensitive holes, and - \n\nAnd off to the side, she saw the jock. Just as naked as them, but with a swelling sheath between his legs. Lisa looked away as she saw the head of his cock starting to emerge, flattening as it went; she didn’t want to see that. \n\nAs she dragged herself upright, her shoes ripping off her new hooves in the process, she tried to focus through everything. She might be naked, but - but she was still herself. She might be a donkey, but…\n\nBig. Thick. Strong. She could feel the power in her muscles. If she could just…if she could just try hard, be smart about it - \n\n“There is another piece of orientation for all of you,” the woman on stage said. “If I could have your attention up here once more, we will complete it shortly.”\n\nLisa looked up before she could stop herself. She felt the weight of her breasts and the heaviness of her rump as she moved, the curves bigger, thicker than they had been before. She tried not to think about the way that her panties were pulled tighter and tighter around her pussy and asshole, how both of them were flush against the fabric and standing out in stark relief - \n\nAnd then she stopped thinking. A pulse of light illuminated the stage behind the orientation officer. It shot straight through her head, burning through thoughts as it went. \n\nPulse. Another sharp shock, one that left her slack and limp. Her arms slumped, relaxed as could be. \n\nPulse. \n\nPulse. \n\nPulse. \n\nBy the sixth pulse, she was drooling from her muzzle and from between her legs. All thought had disappeared, replaced with a vague need to…to work. To work hard. To do what she was told. To follow orders. \n\n[i]Dumb beasts don’t think.[/i]\n\n“Dumb…beasts…don’t…think…”\n\n[i]Dumb beasts follow orders.[/i]\n\n“Dumb…beasts…follow…orders…”\n\n[i]Dumb beasts work hard.[/i]\n\n“Dumb…beasts…work…hard…”\n\n[i]Dumb beasts breed hard.[/i]\n\n“Dumb…beasts…breed…hard…”\n\n[i]Repeat.[/i]\n\nAnd so she did, falling deeper and deeper into her new shape. \n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n[b][u][center]The End[/center][/u][/b]\n\nSummary: A dark little volunteer service that turns people into useful tools for the next year in exchange for some credit in society…if they can remember to get turned back later. \n\nTags: F/solo, M/solo, Nudity, Transformation, Human to Anthro, Human to Donkey, Donkey, Wet, Animal Genitalia, Embarrassment, Unfair, Hypnosis, \n",
  "writing_bbcode_parsed": "<span style='word-wrap: break-word;'><strong><span class='underline'><div class='align_center'>Transformative Services<br />For a-lycotonum<br />By Draconicon</div></span></strong><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Lisa looked up from her phone again, glancing around the waiting room to see if anyone else had been called back. Nobody had; the clock had barely moved another five minutes, and the receptionist on the other side of the room - likely a permanent member of the Selective Services, considering the way that her fur looked glossier and better cared for than some - continued to give the same dead-eyed stare to her computer as she had from the start. Lisa shook her head, looking away from the panther and back to her phone. <br /><br /><em>It&rsquo;s such a waste of time&hellip;</em><br /><br />Despite her annoyance, she was glad that was the only thing she felt. Some of the others gathered in the waiting room - a frat boy to her right and a sorority girl to her left - were both reacting much worse. He was shaking in his sports jacket, while she was constantly twirling her hair in nervous spirals. Neither of them were okay. Compared to that, she&rsquo;d take being irritated rather than being that on-edge. <br /><br />Then again, she probably had quite the advantage. <br /><br />Lisa chuckled, shaking her head as she flicked from social media over to the notice that popped into her email last night. It was as simple as it was frank. <br /><br /><em>Report to your local Selective Services: Transformed Division tomorrow for assignment.</em><br /><br />Shaking her head, Lisa occupied herself by scrolling through it again, even though she knew what it said. &lsquo;Selective Services&rsquo; was some kind of draft, as far as she knew. People got a bonus for submitting themselves to the lottery, so everyone did it, but most people didn&rsquo;t get called up. It was some kind of volunteer work, she knew that much; if you got called up, you were supposed to report to the local branch and submit for work based on what your latest testing said you were good at. <br /><br /><em>Probably why these two are so freaked out,</em> she thought, glancing out of the corner of her eye at the jock as he hugged himself around the middle. <em>I bet these two haven&rsquo;t seen a single A in their lives&hellip;</em><br /><br />The lower your grades, the more likely you were to be lumped into the Labor Transformation Division instead of something cushier and easier. Lisa had no doubt that she was due the latter; considering she was on the honor roll, how she&rsquo;d managed to graduate high school with honors and was in advanced placement in college already, she doubted that anyone would want to waste someone like her working in the fields or wherever else the Labor groups went. She&rsquo;d be turned into something more interesting, more fitting for her. Might even meet someone that met her standards, for once. <br /><br />&ldquo;Lisa Bonds?&rdquo; the panther said. <br /><br />&ldquo;Hmm? Oh, that&rsquo;s me,&rdquo; she said, standing up and putting her phone in her pocket. &ldquo;Anything you need from me?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Not really, dear; all the paperwork is digital these days. Unless you forgot anything that needs updating from when you signed up?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;No, that should all be fine.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Wonderful. Through the door, then, that&rsquo;s a good girl.&rdquo;<br /><br />She let that pass; no point in pissing off the staff. <br /><br />Still, she smiled as she walked through the sliding glass doors at the other end of the waiting room and entered the grand corridor of the facility. She&rsquo;d always wondered just what it was like to have a different body; she&rsquo;d find out shortly if it was as good as she&rsquo;d imagined it to be. <br /><br />Still, even her anticipation took a back seat to the sheer scale of the facility. The Selective Services: Transformed Division was more like a campus than a single facility. Now that she was inside, it felt like it went on forever, stretching out as far as her eyes could see and still not quite stopping. Lisa almost wondered if the building was bigger than the college campus. It might just be. <br /><br />She followed the signs for &lsquo;Intakes and Injections&rsquo;. The email had been quite clear as to the process. She was supposed to sign in, go for her injection, and then report for orientation, where the transformation would begin. Lisa had already internalized all that and had every confidence that it would go just fine. <br /><br />Passing down the shiny white walls, she kept spotting her reflection on other glass doors and windows. It felt like she was walking alongside a different her, a version of herself that wasn&rsquo;t going to get transformed and would continue life as a human. She imagined that person would have ended up somewhere different, likely somewhere less advanced - after all, having some Selective Services work on your resume was quite impressive. Should be, considering how you were giving up your body that you were born with to get it. <br /><br /><em>Of course, I put in the work, so it shouldn&rsquo;t be that bad for me,</em> she thought, pausing at a t-junction and checking the signs. <em>I should be getting into the research section, or maybe the delivery group, at worst. I&rsquo;m too good a student to waste on the lower-end stuff.</em><br /><br />Lisa turned right, followed by the blond flash of her reflection in the glass. She couldn&rsquo;t help but be reminded of how much shorter she was than the average person, perhaps only five-foot-one, and how the reflection kind of taunted her with that. Maybe the transformation would grant her a little bit of height for the year. <br /><br /><em>Maybe I&rsquo;ll get lucky enough to get an owl transformation,</em> she thought as she kept walking. <em>Get assigned to the night shift as a lab assistant or something. That would be just about perfect, considering they get compensated at a much higher rate&hellip;</em><br /><br />And she thought that she&rsquo;d look good as an owl. A soft beak, fluffy ankle bands and talons, feathers that were gorgeous, soft, and quiet: it would be a perfect look for someone like her. She&rsquo;d look the ace in class that she&rsquo;d always been. <br /><br />Finally, she found the right room. Rapping her knuckles on the I&amp;I door, it opened almost immediately. An older man waved her forward, pulling his lab coat on as he stepped out from behind a desk and gestured toward an exam table in the middle of the room. <br /><br />&ldquo;Lisa Bonds, correct?&rdquo; he asked, his salt-and-pepper hair bristling as he reached for her chart. <br /><br />&ldquo;That&rsquo;s me. I&rsquo;m looking forward to this.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;I doubt that anyone really does, ma&rsquo;am, but I appreciate the willingness.&rdquo;<br /><br />She sat down, pulling one sleeve up. Her skirt fell down to her ankles, a sensible thing, and her flats kicked back and forth as her feet hung over a foot above the floor. The doctor walked over to her, pulling a tray of injections over. <br /><br />&ldquo;How many of those am I going to have to take?&rdquo; she asked, wincing as she imagined dozens of needles. &ldquo;I&rsquo;ve never done this before, so -&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Just one.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Then why -&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Because everyone gets something different, girl. You&rsquo;re here for what we choose, based on your grades. So, shut up and let me read the chart.&rdquo;<br /><br /><em>Rude,</em> she thought, but kept her mouth shut. No point in pissing off the staff, as she&rsquo;d already decided. <br /><br />The doctor looked down at her chart. He was completely quiet as he flipped through the pages on the clipboard, sometimes going back and forth. Lisa bit back the urge to brag about her grades, even going so far as to literally bite her tongue to keep from giving into the temptation. The last thing she needed was her doctor thinking that she knew better. <br /><br />Finally, he put the clipboard down and picked up one of the syringes. Flicking the side and squirting a bit of the solution out the tip, he pushed her sleeve up further and lined the needle up with her upper arm. <br /><br />&ldquo;So, what am I getting?&rdquo; she asked, a tiny smile creeping up the side of her face. &ldquo;Something on the night shift? Research work? Delivery?&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Labor,&rdquo; he said. <br /><br />&ldquo;What?! That - that&rsquo;s impossible. I just - I have straight-As, I graduated top of my class in high school, and - wait, wait, I didn&rsquo;t say - you can&rsquo;t -&rdquo;<br /><br />The needle slid in and the heat of the injection spread under her skin a scant second later. Her jaw dropped as she stared at the clear liquid running into her, imagining it already spreading through her veins and carrying the transformative genome packages through her body. The needle came free a second later, the skin healing up instantly, because of course it did. All the transformations carried a regenerator in them, one that kicked in before the actual transformation did. <br /><br />&ldquo;Why?&rdquo; she whispered. <br /><br />&ldquo;You really think you&rsquo;re that special?&rdquo; the doctor said, shaking his head and pushing the tray of needles away. &ldquo;Everyone&rsquo;s pushing for straight-As these days. There&rsquo;s so many straight-A students that we gotta do a lottery for anyone getting the cushy stuff. Hell, some of them are flat-out bribing their way in.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;But I didn&rsquo;t - I worked hard!&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Then hard labor should be easy for you, shouldn&rsquo;t it?&rdquo; The old man shook his head. &ldquo;Anyway, get your ass to orientation. Room O12.&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;...&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Get going, girl. I got twenty more injections to do before the end of the day.&rdquo;<br /><br />She hopped down from the table, her head spinning. What&hellip;what had just happened? How&hellip;how&hellip;<br /><br />#<br /><br />Orientation started thirty minutes later. In the meantime, Lisa had been joined by the jock and sorority sister that she&rsquo;d shared the waiting room with. They nursed their arms the way that she was desperately trying not to do. <br /><br /><em>I&rsquo;m not like them,</em> she thought as their orientation officer took the stage on the other side of the auditorium. <em>I&rsquo;m not some sports-brained idiot or some party girl bimbo. I worked for this. I tried. I really tried.</em><br /><br />She felt like her heart should have been pounding through her chest, but either some transformation had already occurred - strengthening her heart and lungs - or the regenerator in the injection was keeping her from stressing her body too hard. She hated it. At the very least, she should be allowed her own emotional reactions. <br /><br />It didn&rsquo;t help that she was trying to spot what kind of transformation she was going to get. Labor had a collection of different things, usually equine or bovine, or something in that region. Farm animals, hard-working beasts, things that had strength and stamina and not a lot of anything else. She kept touching her arms, checking her hands, looking at her face. Had something changed? Was she losing anything? Gaining anything? <br /><br />She didn&rsquo;t know, and it scared her. <br /><br />The woman on-stage cleared her throat, forcing Lisa to look up and pay attention. <br /><br />&ldquo;The thirty of you have been selected for the Labor Division for the coming year. Those of you that do well can leave by summer break next year; those of you that fail to live up to expectations will be kept for a second year until you&rsquo;ve done enough to justify your transformation and volunteer work,&rdquo; she said, speaking in a clipped voice with her hands behind her back. &ldquo;In a few short minutes, your transformations will begin. There is no stopping it now; the genome packages in your veins are irreversible once applied, and only degrade over time. If you try to find a way to turn back before a year is up, you will only mutate yourself into a hybrid; if that happens, then the transformation may actually become permanent, so we recommend that you don&rsquo;t attempt anything stupid out of desperation.&rdquo;<br /><br />Lisa gritted her teeth. She wanted to lash out, to shout at their orientation officer for what they&rsquo;d done. This wasn&rsquo;t fair. She wasn&rsquo;t supposed to be here. She wasn&rsquo;t - she had worked hard. She wasn&rsquo;t an idiot like the others. They were wasting her brains and - <br /><br />&ldquo;I understand that some of you are not happy. Rest assured, that will be fixed in a few short minutes.&rdquo;<br /><br />Lisa shook her head. Even if she became something else, she wouldn&rsquo;t - <br /><br />A sudden spasm rocked her arm. She almost punched the chair in front of her as every muscle seized. Before she could try and figure out what it was, the same spasm locked up one of her legs, then her back. <br /><br />&ldquo;Ah&hellip;ah!&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;It seems that we&rsquo;ve begun. I suggest that everyone find an open space. As fast as possible.&rdquo;<br /><br />This was the real thing. Lisa all but threw herself to the ground, not daring to stay in her chair. Someone else started shaking behind her but didn&rsquo;t react as quickly; they suddenly arched their back, shaking and sliding on their seat. They spasmed, their head cracking against the back of their chair. The regenerator would take care of any injury, but it wouldn&rsquo;t be pleasant to say the least. <br /><br />Meanwhile, she was on all fours, her arms and legs supporting her as muscle groups clenched and released. Her clothes were already feeling tighter, her top getting pulled taut around her shoulders. Clench, release, clench, release; with every new tension burst, her muscles were growing, getting thicker along her back, her abs pulling tighter to her stomach and core. Her legs shook, her thighs and calves fluttering like a painless Charlie horse cramp was running through them. <br /><br />&ldquo;Nnngh&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Ugh&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br />&ldquo;Ah&hellip;ah&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br />Pants and huffs and whimpers filled the auditorium as different people were struck down by the transformation. Lisa could barely catch her breath as the expansion spread, running from her muscles to her spine. It felt like someone had seized hold of the back of her neck and her hips and was slowly pulling both of them further and further apart, dragging her out, making her bigger, taller. <br /><br />Crack. Pop. Crack. Pop. <br /><br />As she stretched, something pushed at the back of her waistband. Reaching back with one shaky hand, she managed to pull at her skirt just enough to get it clear of the rising bump that would become her tail. She remembered that much, at least, and - <br /><br />RIIIP!<br /><br />Her shoulders finally punched through her top, ripping through her shirt without any further resistance. Her bra went next, popping and snapping as her new muscles broke it. It fell in two pieces, hitting the ground as her breasts swung free and - <br /><br />&ldquo;Nnngh&hellip;fuck&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br />Her voice was&hellip;lower? Not masculine, but lower, and it briefly distracted her from the infernal itch that started just under her skin. She reached for her throat - was it longer? Just a little, her neck longer than it had been, but&hellip;but it was the fur that was growing in that really caught her attention. <br /><br />It was bristly, but not in the way a pig would be - thank god, she didn&rsquo;t think she could have handled being a sow - but not in any attractive way. She pulled her hand back, her fingernails already thickening and darkening, going a dull gray and becoming blunter than they had been. The backs of her hands were covered in a similar dull gray fur, as bristly as what was growing out of her face, neck, shoulders - <br /><br /><em>Donkey&hellip;they&rsquo;re&hellip;they&rsquo;re making me into a donkey.</em><br /><br />A hysterical laugh nearly escaped her. She clamped down on that, refusing to lose any more dignity. She had to&hellip;had to&hellip;<br /><br />Her head ached as her jaws stretched out, her skull warping inside her skin. The transformation was painless, but no less disturbing as things popped, cracked, and pulled inside, healed over instantly, adjusted for, compensated for, but - <br /><br />Her ears pulled up along the sides of her head, her lips pulling back over a longer jaw. Her teeth felt flatter, more like grinding powerhouses rather than the multitude of different kinds of teeth she had before. Her arms, thick and burly, felt like some brawny farm-woman&rsquo;s limbs rather than her delicate hands from before, and - <br /><br />RIIIIP!<br /><br />She arched her back as she felt her hips rip through her skirt, and further down, she felt other pressures. Her sensible flats were ripping at the sides, her feet slowly growing rounder and larger as they became hooves. Still gasping for breath, shaking from head to toe, Lisa reached out for support. Her fumbling hand eventually found a chair that had already been kicked down, and she forced herself up to something like a kneeling position. <br /><br />All around the room, other students were changing just like her. The sorority woman was completely naked now, her chest blossoming outward, her breasts falling forward and surging to a size that any milk-maid would have envied. Her hips were wide and her ass thick as she fell back on it, her legs spread so far apart that her pussy was completely on display and - <br /><br />And it was changing, swelling, a black line merging between her pussy and her asshole in a teardrop shape that framed both holes perfectly. They swelled, puffing up and becoming more prominent. Lisa could feel the same thing happening to her, her sex and her anus pushing out, becoming harder and harder to hide between her legs. Her underwear pressed tight to both of them, rubbing over the swelling, sensitive holes, and - <br /><br />And off to the side, she saw the jock. Just as naked as them, but with a swelling sheath between his legs. Lisa looked away as she saw the head of his cock starting to emerge, flattening as it went; she didn&rsquo;t want to see that. <br /><br />As she dragged herself upright, her shoes ripping off her new hooves in the process, she tried to focus through everything. She might be naked, but - but she was still herself. She might be a donkey, but&hellip;<br /><br />Big. Thick. Strong. She could feel the power in her muscles. If she could just&hellip;if she could just try hard, be smart about it - <br /><br />&ldquo;There is another piece of orientation for all of you,&rdquo; the woman on stage said. &ldquo;If I could have your attention up here once more, we will complete it shortly.&rdquo;<br /><br />Lisa looked up before she could stop herself. She felt the weight of her breasts and the heaviness of her rump as she moved, the curves bigger, thicker than they had been before. She tried not to think about the way that her panties were pulled tighter and tighter around her pussy and asshole, how both of them were flush against the fabric and standing out in stark relief - <br /><br />And then she stopped thinking. A pulse of light illuminated the stage behind the orientation officer. It shot straight through her head, burning through thoughts as it went. <br /><br />Pulse. Another sharp shock, one that left her slack and limp. Her arms slumped, relaxed as could be. <br /><br />Pulse. <br /><br />Pulse. <br /><br />Pulse. <br /><br />By the sixth pulse, she was drooling from her muzzle and from between her legs. All thought had disappeared, replaced with a vague need to&hellip;to work. To work hard. To do what she was told. To follow orders. <br /><br /><em>Dumb beasts don&rsquo;t think.</em><br /><br />&ldquo;Dumb&hellip;beasts&hellip;don&rsquo;t&hellip;think&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br /><em>Dumb beasts follow orders.</em><br /><br />&ldquo;Dumb&hellip;beasts&hellip;follow&hellip;orders&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br /><em>Dumb beasts work hard.</em><br /><br />&ldquo;Dumb&hellip;beasts&hellip;work&hellip;hard&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br /><em>Dumb beasts breed hard.</em><br /><br />&ldquo;Dumb&hellip;beasts&hellip;breed&hellip;hard&hellip;&rdquo;<br /><br /><em>Repeat.</em><br /><br />And so she did, falling deeper and deeper into her new shape. <br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><strong><span class='underline'><div class='align_center'>The End</div></span></strong><br /><br />Summary: A dark little volunteer service that turns people into useful tools for the next year in exchange for some credit in society&hellip;if they can remember to get turned back later. <br /><br />Tags: F/solo, M/solo, Nudity, Transformation, Human to Anthro, Human to Donkey, Donkey, Wet, Animal Genitalia, Embarrassment, Unfair, Hypnosis, <br /></span>",
  "pools_count": 0,
  "title": "Transformative Services",
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  "rating_name": "Adult",
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      "name": "Sexual Themes",
      "description": "Erotic imagery, sexual activity or arousal",
      "rating_id": "2"
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  "submission_type_id": "12",
  "type_name": "Writing - Document",
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