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Clipped Into the Pinkrooms (Bocchi TG)
🕑 Added 2025-09-11 00:12:51 +0000 UTC
The following footage was considered lost media for ages, a rumor that followed a specific youtube channel for ages. Generally seen as a bad 4chan ripoff of The Backrooms, the Pinkrooms was an unpopular offshoot that barely gained popularity outside the initial thread, a new one popping up every now and then from some user claiming they had fallen in. One problem was the lack of consistency, some describing it as an endless women’s aisle, others an endless mall with generally feminine stores, another an empty tea party in lavishly feminine rooms in a mansion that made no sense.
The only commonalities were all the posters insisting they had been guys, at least before they had exited, the usual mockery and slurs following for what seemed like pure fetish posting. Mysteriously, in the original post it linked to a youtube video that no longer loaded. More bizarrely the date of said deleted video predated the original Backrooms post, leading most to call it fake since it seemed to be deleted soon after posting. But after much searching we’ve managed to find a copy of the original which we will now share for the first time in years.
“Hello hello encampment endeavorers, my urban underlings! Hope you’re ready for some thrills and a lot of unregulated tubing, today’s abandoned adventure is at the Cristo Water Park!”
A small intro plays with copyright free temp tracks, the vlogger’s past escapades playing out, an encounter with police in a park, a shot of him running away from some blur in an abandoned building at night, climbing a rusted fence, hopping over a rotted through staircase. He’s a tall muscular guy, thick mountain man beard and a natural ginger, a far cry from how most people these days remembered him if true. He’s had a rather simple set up, camcorder in one hand, two connected go pros to give his pov and a shot of his face for reactions.
“For the enthusiasts out there, this place is even more infamous than Action Park, one of the earliest water parks in the states before a string of deaths finally closed it for good.”
Shots of various empty or puddled pools shown, the roof worn through and leaking.
“Figured I’d come after some rain so the water part’d be here.”
It was your usual urban explorer content, a cut to a tall tube slide before another cut to what was clearly not the same slide but a smaller one of similar color they had tested beforehand. The camcorder was a bit muffled and blurry due to a waterproof bag zipped up around it, the vlogger in a pair of swim trunks and a white undershirt.
“So let’s dive into what this place has in stor- SHIT SHIT SH-”
As he slides down the tubing dislodges, a clear gap opening, concrete far down enough to hurt even if it didn’t kill you visible in frame if you paused, though the frame his toes are about to cross through, a bright pink flash blots out the screen, only his screams and a hazy wave of static following until the sound of a sudden splash.
“KFF KFFF Fugghk shit I got water runoff in my mouth I got it in my… Why does it taste chlorine-y?** What am I…? Where am I…?”
In an instant he had been teleported from the run down ruins of a real abandoned water park to a massive room from some indeterminate time period, mainly 50’s-80’s in architecture, the tiled sides all filled with gently lapping water. Weirder still was the light streaming in from the side, a hazy hue of dusk that was far too bright, giving a pure white outline to the light shading everything unnaturally. It was like a warmer fluorescent light, sterile yet warm, the vlogger looking completely lost.
“This isn’t the park. Where the hell is this? HELLOOOOO?!”
His voice echoes around as he slips back into an almost dead man’s float, waiting for a response. The tentacles of hair floating behind him spread out in the water, a ripple going higher than expected as his left eye starts blinking furiously.
“HELLOOOO! ANYOOOOONE?!”
He drags himself back to standing, rubbing at his eye with his free hand. His hair is dripping though a brief comparison from earlier already shows it’s shaggier, the rather scraggly back halfway down his neck like some kind of mullet. A brief discoloration is also faint in the water though the odd lighting and camera quality make it hard to make out if any obvious changes to the color happened yet.
“Shit. Did I fall a level lower? But why would it be warm? Why are the lights on? The fuck?”
The next few minutes are wordless as he gets out of the pool, walking away. It doesn’t take long for goosebumps to form, then shivering. There’s a few cuts here, shots of damp linoleum, a bright white window up close that has no gap for opening, no sign of giving when he pounds on it. For a moment he pauses feeling winded. When he got out of the pool, the semi translucent cloth made it clear he had a bear-like covering of hair on his chest, now amidst the shivering it looks sparser.
More walking, more rooms with gently lapping water, no noise beyond his own foot steps and small splashes in the more waterlogged rooms. A few times he has to adjust the headset for the go pros, tightening it, more hairs rubbing against the viewfinders, bare patches of cheek showing through during the cuts as he grumbles and rubs his left eye. He can’t see his own eye but it’s grown puffy, redder. It’s not clear but his eyes look, well not dilated but as if the sclera had expanded, a larger ring of blue jaggedly forming in lines. There’s a growing sense of desperation, the camerawork getting more shaky as he frequently was rubbing himself and flicking his hand as if something was sticking to it.
“It’s not possible, it’s not fucking possible. I’ve been walking for an hour it just keeps going and going and I’m fucking freezing. Fucking shirt keeps chafing too fuck fuck fuck!”
Any pretense of the happy go lucky persona’s gone, visibly shivering as he’s walking. His shirt is sticking awkwardly to his body, nipples clearly red from constant dampness and movement, the shirt bunched up around them leaving some of his waist visible. His navel is patchy now, and the sleeves of it look a bit looser than before
Another montage of walking, occasional stumbles interrupting. More nervous twitching and scratching as he moved through room after room. Odd rooms full of slides with no entrances, infinity pools fenced off, water spouts running endlessly in a flooded room. He moved much slower in the flooded areas, the sloshing water not exactly deep enough to slow him, but it was clearly comfortable, the shivering lessening. Eventually it cuts to a shot of him placing down the camcorder, angling it so it has a clear line of sight of a somewhat bubbling pool, steam rising up.
“Fuck it. I don’t care if something's in the water even if my eye’s sore as shit. Anything’s better than the cold. Just gotta- Ooh yeah that’s nice…”
He jumped in, coughing from a bit of water in his mouth but that soon subsided. His form slumps back and then a slight time lapse occurs. If it wasn’t sped up it would be hard to notice, but the spread of hair floating back can be seen growing out like some kind of octopus spreading its tentacles. Every now and then it goes back to regular speed either when he clears his throat or other noises. Using playback and amplification it becomes obvious he’s moaning, unaware of the red leeching from his hair, his muscles subtly shrinking, his face gradually swallowed by a pink curtain. He just floats there until something suddenly shifts, the serenity cutting to him splashing about as choked grunts and raspy clears echo around.
Eventually he climbs out though it’s hard to see what exactly is happening, the vlogger on all fours. While it’s not visible, the sounds echoing around were rising, whatever water he had swallowed accidentally taking effect. As he tries to cough out what can be assumed to be his Adam’s Apple, his lengthier hair’s redness drains onto his white shirt like reds and whites in the wash, streaks of pink dyed in. After a few more phlegmy hacks a notably thick splatter noise echoes, the gasps that escape sounding like a completely different person, a much meeker, girlier tone replacing their gruffer showman voice. It takes a few moments before they seem to realize what’s happened.
“What? No no I can’t sound like plfft! What’s this pink- GAHH! NO NOOOO~ (two minutes of unintelligible screaming. Echoes peaked the mic too much to transcribe.)”
It takes a while to calm down, though perhaps that’s the wrong word. They begin hyperfocusing on details about themself, a clear sign of anxiety on their heterochromatic eyes as they inspect their now hairless body, pinching a flabbier bicep before narrowing down their focus to their hands and feet. A quick cut later and they’ve remembered the camcorder, grabbing it as they begin filming close up shots.
“I-I have to believe someone will find this or I’ll go c-crazy. This is so fucked up. I don’t know where I am but this water. It’s always damp and I was soaking for a while s-so my hands and feet felt weird. I thought it was cause of the cold or maybe just that pruny thing that always happens. Get all wrinkly y’know? B-But it’s um the opposite… Like there’s this soft smooth layer underneath and the water’s just making it… l-like a riverbed stone er…”
As he tries to find the words he shows one of his hands, zooming in on the ridges of paler flesh, nails jutting out, making a fist to try and make a point only for a gasp to interrupt. Much like a sponge being wrung, water squirts out, the hand visibly shrinking as whatever tanned flesh was left smoothens to the paler stuff, water running down the covering of the camcorder as well as it drops to the ground.
“Shit shit no they’re changing fuck I really think I… Nngh my feet. I thought my legs felt a bit rubbery a-and I kept stumbling for no…”
He gives a glance to the display panel, his lower legs in shot, especially his feet which were visibly feminine from constant contact with the pinkrooms water. He bends over with a hard to place look. Worriment? Curiosity? Excitement? It doesn’t take long for him to grab his lower calves and grip them, lightly at first as if checking for something. The flesh seems a lot more malleable than what should be possible, clear bends and warps in the structure to minimal pressure. After a few test squeezes, each one accompanied by a chipper, fluttery sigh, they suddenly squeeze hard, shrieking as their ankles pop, a sluggish clump of mass squeezing up and bulging out their calves as they suddenly shrink, their whole body toppling back into the water.
From there it’s thrashing and moans, a freeze frame play by play showing the rest of their pancaked height from the calf shrinkage pumping up higher, whatever kicks caught in frame growing curvier by the frame. Over the course of the splashing, a few manage to knock the camera into a better angle as their newly plumpened legs stop kicking, their fidgeting dying down to a float as a murky cloud of white spreads through the clear water. It was clear that their legs had been utterly feminized, and without their hips to match, said thighs squeezed the obvious bulge in their swim trunks as a few final gasps followed further murkying of the water.
After the moaning died down, it took a few tries to get out, the vlogger clearly unsteady on their new legs, a few groans following as they stared at themselves. A few cuts follow, cutting from him curled up in a ball to groaning about something unintelligibly as they fidgeted with their swim shorts. Their hair was now ass length and fully pink, just like their bunched up top. Swim trunks looked stringier too, the legs rolled up as they squeezed against their enlarged thighs. As they walk to their dropped camcorder, it’s more of a waddle, clearly some kind of disconnect between their hips and legs as they start mumbling to themselves. It’s uncertain how much time has passed.
“This can’t be happening this can’t be happening this can’t be happening.”
It was like a mantra as they stumbled in circles, their other eye puffed up, streaks of blue present. The earlier eye is now all blue and larger, lashes bushier, their formerly blocky eyebrows pink and slim. Every now and then their jaw clicks causing a stutter, their lower jaw angling awkwardly before another pop slips it back into place. A few rounds of this and it becomes clear how their facial shape is rounding, and soon enough he’s back to shivering before a louder pop forces out a moan.
“Nngh why did that… No this is wrong. G-Gotta get back. Gotta find… Shit shit shit.”
The next chunk is devoid of camcorder footage, only the go pros recording as they try to retrace their steps back with their previous recordings as reference.
The shifts here are subtler and only pop out with some skipping ahead. The widening of their other sclera, the filling out of cheeks and plushening of lips. Said lips became more evident as every few rooms that louder kind of pop would pause their scrambling, the vlogger always biting their lips to try and restrain a moan. The camera wobble gradually shifts, going from an awkward stumbling that had replaced their smoother gaits, into a more oscillatory motion. While not obvious immediately, it’s clear their hips are shifting to match their thighs, and their gradual feminization is sinking in based off the dead stare on their now unrecognizable face.
Their pace picks up, clear anxiety taking over, their demeanor growing more fidgety. It’s unsure just how intense the shifts are though they do keep rubbing at their face throughout its changes, a few times the sockets visibly shifting as they massage the bridge of their nose, but more and more it's their clothing they fiddle with. Every now and then they pause a bit to catch their breath, looking down as the PoV camera gives glimpses of their body. Their nipples are the obvious attention getters, thicker, larger and redder every time they look down, the cloth tangled around as their shirt looked more like a thicker crop top, most of their navel displayed. The only other prominent bulge is their groin, the trunks riding up around it as their face looks constantly flushed.
More cuts, countless more rooms flashing back, a full sway now to their movements, more shivering. Any glimpses we get of their body show a softened physique, their hiking and camping honed musculature chilled away. Every now and then there’s distant roaring, the vlogger usually collapsing into fetal position even though it was shown to be some of the larger rooms’ water features earlier. Any scrap of confidence seems to be gone.
A critical moment happens a few cuts after, the lighting of the entire endless swimming area making it impossible to track time beyond what’s shown, but judging by the degradation of muscle it had to have been at least another hour. It happens while they’re hugging themselves, mumbling a pep talk about not giving into the cold, that all they have to do is find where they entered and then they’d be safe. In a moment of self reassurance, they hug themselves too hard, collapsing their shoulders inwards as they fall to the ground, the mic peaking too loud to make out anything but the slight gaps in their orgasmic screeches, the pov shot hovering down as what looks to be moving globs of flesh roll past their burgeoning chest.
There’s a bit of choked confusion, a few more gurgles and crunches followed by their hands shooting backwards out of frame before a juicy sounding pair of bursts follows. At this point the front of their trunks squeezes, their cock peeking out the top as the mic continues to peak, their hips thrusting upwards for a few seconds before their movements turn more tense.
“Uhhhngh mmmgh it ahhlways RRGH why can’t I-I-”
Their thighs squeeze a little, one hand trembling as it slides down towards their throbbing member.
“So c-clooohse juuust have to-”
While meaning to stroke it, their clumsy hand instead slaps against their tip, not very hard, but enough for what happens next.
GLSSSH
This time the peaked screaming lasts for minutes, an expulsion of white bursting upwards and flowering out, their cock no longer visible as it clearly recesses inwards, the trunks gaining a white hemmed microskirt accoutrement as the dark material pinkened visibly. Over the course of the internal thrashing their hands hug their core slimmer, more bloating in their chest, no sound available from the intense peaking till eventually the crackle of audio fades to exhausted pants as he slowly fishes out the camcorder.
We cut to its perspective, set far back as the vlogger meekly walks into frame fully, slowly turning around, their figure nearly all feminized, breasts at a firm b and barely a hint of anything masculine left besides their bulge. Their shirt had fully transitioned into a bra, the final bunches of fabric twisting into a tie on camera, a look of apprehension as they walk back to the camcorder before a horrified screech garbles their reaction to their current self.
They start running, camerawork loose and uncontrolled, desperate sounds echoing though they quickly have to stop, peeling off their bikini bottoms to reveal a half shrunken member. From then on it’s more of a deliberate fast walk, the bottomless vlogger flinching, their apple-sized tits jiggling in their loose bikini top whenever they move too fast, having to compromise between desperation and consideration not to accidentally squeeze in the last of their masculinity. Finally he reaches the starting room, focusing his camcorder on the unnatural slides at the center, delirious laughter echoing as he sets it down.
“E-Either this works or I’m screwed. No way out. This’ll all undo itself b-but I’ve gotta get wet again before I… get wet forever…”
From there we get the camcorder’s static shot as he carefully floats on his back, cooing a bit when he first hits the water, but his attempts to keep his chest and cock dry seem to work. There’s a bit of awkwardness at a linoleum barrier around, but after a bit of finagling, he reaches the slide. From there it’s a careful bit of shimmying, no obvious entrance to the plastic construction as he slowly climbs up the corrugated bits sticking out. A cut to them successfully on the top of it, holding onto a central pole as they start to jump, shaking the structure, dislodging a bit of it to have a similar gap as to the one he had fallen through in the first place.
“I DID IT I DID IT! YES YES YES Y-”
He crawls in only for the whole structure to totter more, his inwards pushes getting frantic, legs kicking as he slides himself inside, the whole structure shaking as skin squeaking against plastic fills the room, clear sounds of scrabbling and some shouts that are illegible from inside the slide. More squeaking, more banging against the tubes, the noise getting louder as a slow squeak echoes, the slides shaking once more before a frictional note echoes out and then-
SPLASH
For half a minute there’s nothing, no source to the splash, nor sign of the blogger. Then bubbles, barely noticeable on a first watch until they get more frequent, growing frothier, two new flotation devices dragging “him” back to the surface near where he started. They really are massive now, and the poor vlogger is clearly half-dragged by them, the two melons filling every inch of his bikini, a despondent look on his face, but one that’s also horny.
“I’m stuuuuhck here!”
A clear mania is filling him, the vlogger half-floating as they spread their legs, eyeing their throbbing member.
“Hehehehehhhh~ I-I’ve been soooo turned ahhhn since it’s just been stuck… in there. A-And if I touch it even sliiightly it’ll NNGH g-go ihhhhn for good. Buhhht I thought I could gooo~ bahhck! I thought I could uhhhndo it buuuht hehehe there’s no way out and i’m so g-giiiirly I-I juuust gottaaah- MMGH?!”
As he talked his fingers hovered over it, lightly poking one of his balls and shuddering, another press following as they slipped inside himself. Needless to say the audio was garbled, the vlogger’s cock hastily fingered inside as the water clouded over their moaning, delirious form, the new girl clearly relishing every bit of her new body as she shamelessly put on a performance worthy of a porn star, only interrupted by a suddenly loud booming voice-
POOL CLOSED FOR MAINTENANCE
“Wait wha-”
Suddenly her and the camera are falling, her pleasure interrupted rudely by reality seeming to drop her back in, the half-naked girl landing ass first into an inflatable pool, the camera bag dangling from a tree branch as it films from above.
“Huh? Wait, th-this is my house?! I’m back? YES I DID I DID IT I’M OOOOUT!”
A moment passes, her smile faltering, the adrenaline fading.
“Wait…”
She pats herself down, looks around, getting angrier.
“YOU MEAN ALL I HAD TO DO WAS BREAK THAT FUCKING SLIDE AT THE START AND I’D HAVE BEEN-”
MEMORY CARD FULL
That’s the end of the video, too much effort for a prank, too lewd for a movie deal, far too detailed to be some spur of the moment shitpost. Weirdly enough the final form looked exactly like a massive youtuber known for her bikini clad videos of guitar covers and a well-known shut-in who vaguely answers “I don’t wanna ever end up back in… n-never mind um h-here’s my rendition of the new Demon Slayer-” in a number of her livestreams when pushed. There had been some controversy years back when she had apparently taken over the channel from her “brother” and deleted all his older videos.
Does that mean the pinkrooms are real? Is there a glitch in reality that won’t be satisfied unless it turns whoever stumbles into it into a girl? We may never know, but if you compare the end of that video to her last video thumbnail… We’ll let you decide.
