FREE TG/TF Story: From Man to FEMALE Mannequin!

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“Hey. Hey!

Zach looked up from his phone, a well-practiced bored sneer already creasing his upper lip. On the screen, the newly-taken photo glowed back at him, as hilarious as it had been in real life.

“What?”

“Didn’t you see the damn sign?” The young-looking chick scowled at him.

Of course I saw the fucking sign… Zach sighed internally to himself. Pretty hard to miss…

Outwardly though, he just drawled out a clearly ironic “what sign?”

The girl was short, kinda pretty in a late-teenage way, with this close cropped, green-dyed hair and a cute babyface that probably would’ve driven some of the guys Zach knew wild.

At least, it would have, if her eyes hadn’t been hidden behind two tiny, round glasses with smoked lenses. Glasses that made it seem as if her skull had two great, gaping holes in it.

Holes that were now trained angrily on him.

“It’s right there, jerkoff.” She waved one tiny hand at the huge, red stenciled lettering almost smacking Zach right on the schnozz.

NO PICTURES, it read.

It was simple. To the point, with a camera with a line drawn through it for emphasis. There was no way Zach couldn’t have seen it.

But there was also no way that Zach could have possibly heeded it.

Not when the insides of this store were just so friggin’ hilarious.

He’d spotted the place as they were wandering the backstreets of their small city, looking for a bar Johnno had read about. “They” were Zach and his work buddies, a small little cadre of guys who’d known each other through high school and now all worked together in their town’s main employer, the huge paper manufacturer by the city limits.

It was a dumbass job, even in the white collar departments. The sort of dumbass job that made you wanna unload on Friday evenings, pile out to a club, knock back a few beers, get buzzed and – ideally – wake up the next morning with no memory of what had happened. So when Johnno had suggested the new bikini bar, in that part of the town they barely ever went to, all the guys had jumped at the suggestion.

And Zach had been pumped, too. Especially after his breakup with Kayleigh last year. What single, 26-year old guy wouldn’t want to spend his evening hanging around with a bunch of super-hot chicks with their titties barely covered?

Then they’d wandered down that narrow backstreet, and he’d seen the store, and all thoughts of bikini girls had vanished from his mind. He’d even had to tell his buddies to carry on while he got a closer look.

That’s how hilarious this place’s main display was!

“Well?” The girl asked. “You gonna get lost now or what?”

Very slowly – slow enough that he knew it would annoy her – Zach raised his eyebrows, assumed an innocent expression.

“It’s a free country, right?” He made a show of looking around. “I don’t see any cops coming to arrest me for the awful crime of taking photos.”

Even behind her dark glasses, Zach could tell the girl wanted to punch him.

What’s she wearing those for, anyway? It’s practically dark outside…

Probably thinks she’s cool.

“This is private property. My private property. And assholes like you are most certainly not welcome here.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Coz you’re drunk.”

She looked surprised when Zach shook his head, a cheek grin on his handsome, tanned face.

“You know that’s bull turds.” He murmured softly.

He lowered his own hipster glasses, peered over the top of the frames at the girl.

“It’s because I’m straight.”

And male, he wanted to add, but he decided not to go down that route just yet. Judge the reaction on this one, first.

And, by the way the girl first froze, and then began to crease her face into a bona fide scowl, he figured he’d hit a nerve.

“Listen, jerk off…”

“Ah, c’mon.” Zach gave her that roguish smile of his, the one that usually dazzled girls. “No more pretending, huh? I mean, just look at this place.”

He threw his arms wide, indicating the empty store, but it was a pretty useless gesture.

There was no denying just how gay this place was.

There were pride flags hanging from the sign out front, so many of them that they obscured the name. There was pink and purple lighting – what a recent article in his newsfeed had informed him was “bisexual lighting” – and natty, punky stickers covered in vintage LGBT slogans.

But none of those were what had drawn his eyes in the first place, or made him pick up his phone and start snapping away.

In the glass storefront windows were the most hilarious mannequins Zach had ever seen.

They were all female, their plastic bodies pushing out at the chest and curving in around the waist to give a false impression of femininity. Golden, black, and red nylon wigs perched expertly on their heads.

But it was the way they were dressed, and the way they held themselves, that really stood out.

All of the mannequins were dressed in leather bondage gear, some with leather caps, some sporting whips, one with a gigantic black dildo sticking out in front of her.

They were arranged in poses that made it look like they were touching each other, or spanking, or otherwise about to engage in some seriously gay girl sex.

The dildo girl even had a set of leashes clasped in (or rather cleverly tied around) one plastic hand, leading to collars on the necks of two kneeling mannequins dressed only in crotchless orange panties.

Plastered to the display wall behind these unusual mannequins had been abrasive posters, covered in slogans like ‘BITCH OR BUTCH?’ and ‘SHIT FOR QUEENS AND WHORES’.

It had been hilarious. So funny, so out of place for their normally conservative city that Zach had stopped in amazement. And when he peeked in the door, he’d found the madness continued inside.

Which is where he’d been when this girl caught him as he took shots of two blonde mannequins artfully arranged so it looked like one was eating out the other.

The very same mannequins he was now posed in front of, arms spread apart like he was about to ascend into heaven.

“There’s nothing wrong with this place, dipshit,” the young girl growled, her hidden eyes now focused like dark lasers on his face, “except for dipshits like you who get tanked, come in here and start acting like dipshits. First Amendment, this ain’t breaking any laws.

Now. Get. The. Fuck. Out. Dipshit.”

As she kept her hidden eyes trained on him, Zach pulled a theatrical sad face. He pleading raised his phone again.

“No time for one last picture? I just seen one I really like.”

The girl took a deep breath. When she spoke, her voice was low, dangerous.

“Listen, OK? I can do things to you that you wouldn’t believe. Either you get the fuck out now, or I swear to God I’ll-”

With infinite calm, Zach angled his phone towards her. Took a picture, his phone making a fake clicking noise.

“S’OK, I got it now,” he grinned. “One pic of a real-life ugly dyke.”

“THAT’S IT!” The girl screamed at him. The sudden volume of her voice, the way it filled the whole shop cut through Zach’s buzz, made him feel slightly worried.

Whoa… hey! It was just a joke

Before he could speak, though, the girl pointed one finger right at him. Her face glowed with rage, her body trembled.

“I warned you!” She shouted in a voice far too loud for her tiny frame. “I warned you, but you wouldn’t listen, just like all the other dipshits!

Well, guess what, King Dipshit? I’m not just some ordinary girl you can fuck with. I come from a goddamn powerful family. My great, great grandma is famous…”

She leaned forward until Zach could see himself reflected in the black lenses of her glasses, a nasty grin spreading across her features.

“Wanna know what her name was? What my family name is, dipshit?”

“Listen,” Zach nervously held up his hands, “it was just a joke, OK, Little Miss Crazy Woman? You want me outta here, fuck it, I’ll-”

That was as far as he got.

As he was speaking, the girl reached up, took hold of the edge of her glasses. Gave him a sweet, yet predatory smile that sent an involuntary shiver up Zach’s spine.

“Nah,” she giggled. “Not even close. My name is…

Medusa!”

The dark holes vanished, the glasses whipped away. In their place, two fat, yellow eyes laughed into Zach’s, their pupils golden, almost seeming to glow with light. As the girl laughed, Zach held up his hands to block that awful sight, tried to yell…

And then he saw it and the sound died in his throat, died away to nothing but a whimper.

OhmyGod… what the fuck is happening?!

Before his eyes, Zach’s hairy, masculine hands were changing.

“One look,” the girl whispered, hooking her glasses back over her ears with a smile. “One look is all it takes…”

Her grin grew wider.

“And you’ll never be a man again!”

In horror, Zach watched as his big, manly hands shrank down until they were small and dainty, the wrists becoming narrow and delicate, his fingers turning slender.

“Wait!” He gasped. “No… please… make it stop!”

The girl just sighed and shook her head.

“I can’t,” she said. “Even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. So.”

She shrugged.

“Deal with it, dipshit.”

Zach was shrinking now. As his arms began to shed their muscle and hair and become all slender and willowy, he became aware that his body was getting smaller, going from a manly 6ft2 to a girly 5ft5 in seconds.

At the same time, there was a feeling like someone was tightening a length of rope around his midriff. His waist suddenly became narrow, even as his hips began pushing outwards, curving out either side of his slender new body.

As Zach gaped at these changes in helpless shock there was a tremor beneath his shirt, and then his chest started to expand, rising up, getting bigger and bigger, until Zach was suddenly the proud owner of a pair of large DD cup breasts.

“Help!” He screamed as he ripped open his shirt and stared at the big, ripe new titties now dangling from his frame. “Johnno! Somebody!”

But nobody came.

Instead, Zach heard a click behind him. He glanced frantically over his shoulder and saw the girl was now stood by the newly-closed door, a key held up in one hand.

“Don’t waste your breath,” she shrugged, turning around the closed sign and flicking off the overhead lighting with one fluid movement, “this glass is soundproofed. No-one will hear you.

So scream all you like, huh?”

And scream Zach did.

He screamed as his butt shivered and expanded, becoming round and pert and peach like.

He screamed as his short dark hair suddenly exploded out his crown, fell in a dark waterfall past his cheeks, past his shoulders, until it flowed down his back all the way to his sexy new bum. He kept right on screaming as it shimmered and turned bright blonde, holding up a strand with his slender new fingers as he did so.

And he screamed as the Medusa girl’s curse got to work on his face, changing who he was forever.

Even though the sensation was painless, he could feel the flesh on his face twitching, warping, pulsing and reorganizing into something very different.

There was a tickle in his nose, which suddenly reduced in size, turning into a small, adorable button.

There was pressure in his lips, which quickly plumped up until they were all pink and pouty.

There was a feeling like someone was filing his bones, and his cheekbones got sharper, even as his face widened, his eyes became big and innocent, and long, dark lashes began fluttering in the corner of his vision.

He was so caught up in what was happening to his face that he didn’t even notice the way his shoulders were narrowing down until they were slender and girly.

Didn’t even notice as his legs became long and smooth and slender and sexy.

Didn’t even notice as his clothes suddenly aged into rags and fell off his body, turning to dust on the floor.

It was only when the changes reached his penis that he suddenly let go of his newly transformed face.

Dangling between his legs, his little buddy gave one last twitch, then rolled back up inside him, pulling his balls with it. He gave a girly squeal and scrabbled for it, but it was too late. His dick was gone, leaving only smooth skin in its wake.

For a long moment, Zach gaped at the new space between his legs, waiting for a vagina to appear, for the pussy to form that would signal his final transformation into a girl.

Only it didn’t.

Instead, something much worse happened.

As Zach stared at his groin, the flesh slowly began to change color, turning from pink to a sort of dull gold.

At the same time, it seemed to lose its softness, becoming strange and hard and unyielding, no longer supple or capable of movement.

He looked up at the Medusa girl, feeling even more scared now than he had before.

“What… what’s happening?!” He squeaked in an unfamiliar, female voice.

The girl calmly leaned back against the door, folded her arms, taking her sweet time about it. As languid as you please.

“We-ell…” she said, drawing the words out, “I mean, I did tell you I was descended from the Medusas, didn’t I?”

“So?” Zach said quickly, hoping to hurry her up. He could already feel this strange, hard gold patch starting to spread around his hips, make its way lazily up his stomach.

“Soooo…” the girl said, slower than ever, mockingly slow. “Didn’t you ever read about my ancestors in school? They didn’t exactly get famous for turning men into women, did they?”

No… even in Zach’s frantic state, his mind knew the girl was right. No, what did they turn people into again? Was it… was it…?

“Stone!” He suddenly shrieked, looking down at his female body, aghast.

“Haha! Yep!” The girl laughed.

She smiled as female-Zach hesitantly tapped the spreading gold patch on his skin, frowning as he did so.

“I don’t have much use for a bunch of statues, though. No way. I prefer to turn my victims…

…into mannequins.”

As she said the words, Zach realized the gold indeed wasn’t stone. It was plastic. The plastic he would be forced to exist in for the rest of his life.

“NO!” He shrieked. “No, you can’t-!”

It was already too late.

Even as Zach wailed and screamed and cursed the Medusa girl, he could feel his body seizing up.

As his hips turned to plastic, he discovered he could no longer move his legs properly, leaving him only able to walk like a lazily-made clockwork doll.

As the plastic spread up his torso, he saw his brand new breasts freeze solid and turn hard. He tried to breathe in and suddenly found himself coughing as his lungs stopped working, then disappeared, and his insides became nothing but a solid limp of plastic.

Nononononono… this can’t be happening!

But it was.

In no time at all, Zach’s legs lost their humanity, became the detachable, moveable legs of a mannequin.

His shoulders started to freeze. He held up his new hands before him with a cry, and watched in mesmerized horror as they shivered once, stopped moving, and froze permanently into their new position.

With the last mobility in his ankles, he lurched around to face the girl who did this to him, moving like a drunken robot about to fall over.

“I’ll kill you…” he gurgled, his throat already seizing up, his vocal cords vanishing.

She smiled sweetly at him.

“You don’t have time,” she said.

She was right.

As Zach opened his mouth to speak, his lips suddenly stopped moving. Froze into their new, pouty position. Then the inside of his mouth was suddenly filling with something very thick and very solid that he wanted to spit out, and then his teeth and tongue and… and everything vanished, and he had no inside of his mouth left at all.

His long blonde hair shimmered, before losing its luster – if not its color – and becoming strands of expertly-brushed nylon that looked like hair, but weren’t.

The last things to go were his eyes.

As the last of his newly-female face froze into position, Zach turned two helpless, pleading, innocent eyes on his tormentor.

Please… he thought.

Fuck you, the girl mouthed back at him.

Then his vision dimmed, went slightly gold, and Zach realized with a last feeling of terror that he could no longer move his eyeballs. Could no longer move anything.

Although he was still able to think, to see, he was no longer human. He was a mannequin now.

A big-titted, female mannequin.

“There,” the girl purred, at last pushing off from the doors, “isn’t that better?”

With a shit-eating grin on her youthful face, she slowly walked over to Zach, who tried to turn away but couldn’t.

“Look at you now, dipshit,” the girl whispered when she at last stopped in front of him. She gently reached up and brushed a loose strand of nylon hair out of Zach’s eye. “Big improvement, no?”

At her touch, Zach wanted to flinch. To push her away. But of course he couldn’t.

He was little more than a statue now.

He couldn’t even alter his facial expression to show her how disgusted he was.

As these thoughts went through Zach’s plastic brain, the girl moved her head slightly, looking him up and down. Zach got the impression that, behind her dark glasses, she was letting her eyes drift over his female figure.

“You’re perfect,” she murmured at last. “Just what I’ve been looking for. I’ma put you right in the front window, part of the main display.”

With a smirk, she reached up and suddenly squeezed Zach’s big, plastic tits. To his horror, he realized he could still feel whatever she did to his new body.

“I’ll dress you like a little slut,” she whispered, gently pinching his frozen nipples. “I’ll put big dildos on you and make you wear nipple tassels and put you on display for all the world to see. And you know what else?

I’ll make you the one exception to my ‘no photos’ rule. Everyone in town will come and take pictures of you, and point at you, and laugh at what a stupid girl mannequin you are.

And you? You won’t be able to do a goddamn thing but stand there and let them laugh.”

At last, her hands dropped from his breasts. She stood back, sighed up at Zach with a smile.

“Well…” she murmured to herself. “Time to get to work.”

Then she suddenly picked Zach up, slung him under one arm, and carried him toward the display case.

“We’ll get you in the window first,” she muttered as she went, “and then we’ll dress you.”

And Zach?

All he could do was lie there, frozen in position, that lusty little pout on his unmoving girl-face even as his brain screamed and wailed with fear.

Five years later, that expression is still there. That comical look of lust that everyone notices as they pass the store, the one that makes them point at the busty statue that used to be Zach, even as he tries not to cry inside, unable to close his eyes, unable to look away. Unable to be a bad boy ever again.

Sometimes, his old friends pass the store. Each time, they wonder uneasily about what happened to their buddy, the guy they used to know who drunkenly stopped to take pictures of this place once and was never heard from again.

They even stop and stare sometimes at the big breasted mannequin on all fours, dressed in her little pink tutu, her lips set in a pouty simulation of desire, as another mannequin in the tableaux kneels behind her, ready to fuck her senseless with a strap on.

Sometimes, as they look at her, they even get the uneasy feeling that they can faintly hear their old friend screaming.

*

Like what you’ve read? Check out my other tale of weird and non-human transformations School of Swap, or try my collection of short stories Trapped as a Girl!

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(photo credit: Pixabay. Used under a public domain license)

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