Raygun Stepfordization (Patreon)

An overworked lawyer decides she'd rather be a 1950s housewife.

Commission for Smokey. They were inspired to write a caption based on the art:

She wanted to go to the gym with her wife. She really did. This was the fifteenth time in a row she had to turn her down, and she felt terrible for it. But just one look at the mountain of case notes on her desk reminded her how much work she still had to do before court tomorrow morning. She’d be up all night dealing with them, and then she’d have to do it all over again the following night, and again the night after that... And there’d never be any time for her wife. Unless...

There was the ray gun, stashed away in her drawer. She didn’t have a clue where it came from, or who created it, but when she had found it laying on the ground outside her office just last week, she felt compelled to bring it home with her. The instruction booklet showed just how simple and easy it was to operate. Just aim it at the target, pull the trigger, and...

In that instant, all of the stress and weariness was zapped out of her. She felt not just refreshed, but clean. Like her mind had been scrubbed of all the bad and sad thoughts she was having. And on top of that, there was a feeling in her chest; a growing wave of pleasure, accompanying a rather notable swelling of her breasts. She squeezed them and had to fight back a lustful moan, but it wasn’t long before her attention was pulled elsewhere. Her hair, defying gravity, was swept up into the air and restyled, as if by magic. Or rather, by atomic age science. She didn’t even have time to see the resulting hairdo before her suit was reshaped. The long sleeves receded, her jacket vanished, and her pants melded together into a skirt, which soon billowed out. Soft, fluffy petticoats appeared out of thin air between her legs and the newly created dress, filling out her skirt into the most feminine silhouette imaginable. 

She held a hand to her forehead and breathed a sigh of relief. The transformation was quick and intense, but it left her feeling like a brand new woman. She tried to think about her job, and all that came to mind were images of dishes to be washed, clothes to be folded, floors to be vacuumed, and meals to be cooked. There was a large stack of papers and binders on the desk, but they weren’t really important, so into the trash they went. Once that was done, she found herself thinking about her darling wife. She felt positively dreadful about not going to the gym with her, but there was something she could do to make it up to her... And what kind of housewife couldn’t whip up a feast for her spouse at a moment’s notice? 

I'm especially proud of the first two panels, they do a lot of heavy lifting in getting the characters' relationship, thoughts and actions across without any dialogue.

Note how I shortened her arms in the final panel, compared to the pencils, after being carried away by the oven mitts. I also "zoomed in" on panel 4 for more dramatic effect. 

Hope you enjoyed! Pencils, inks and reference images follow.