Manikin? Man, I can!

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Manikin? Man, I can!

If you had told me my future, I would have never believed you.

My past was nothing to really talk about. Single child, named Mat Connor, no real friends, a dead-end job, an inability to take care of myself that resulted in me being in pretty bad shape by the time I reached 50.

In fact, while I was celebrating my 50th birthday I keeled over and ended up in the hospital.

Waking up in the hospital would have been the norm after such an event, but where I woke up didn't look like any hospital I had ever seen, but my location was of secondary consideration to the fact I could not move.

I laid there, wondering if this was due to what had happened last night, had I had a stroke?

Eventually a man came into the room carrying clothes. I would have raised an objection had I been able, since they were clearly womens clothes.

What happened next was life-changing, as the very first item the man put on me - a pair of panties - told me several things. First, he was dressing me with a professional and clinical detachment, like you would putting clothes on a store manikin. Second, even though I could not move, I felt everything as he brought the panties up my legs. And last, I realized I clearly now had lady parts as the panties reached their destination and the sensations confirmed my fears.

The panties were followed by stockings, then heels, and then the man dressed the rest of me.

Two feelings competed for my attention during this process. The first was the dislocation I felt as each piece touched my now clearly female body. The second was simply pleasure, great enough that I can recommend to anyone that if a lady says you can dress her, do it, as if she gets the same feeling I did you will leave her just as breathless as you might have taking her clothes off.

But I could also tell he felt nothing, as if I was nothing more than a doll, and it was his job to make me all dolled up.

But soon he was done, and he signalled to someone outside the door.

Two more men came in. One was older, maybe as old as I was a few hours ago, the other looked like he was in his early twenties.

The older of the two said, "See, son, we have succeeded in building you the perfect girlfriend"

"I have seen machines like this before," the son replied.

"Not quite like this, son" the old man stated, "there is in fact a human brain inside that artificial body"

"That sounds worse." the son said, "you are telling me some poor girl is stuck inside there, helpless?"

"Now son, it isn't like that. She was dying, and we gave her a second chance at life." the older man stated.

"Prove it," the son replied.

The old man pushed a button on a device he held in his hand, and suddenly, I could move.

In fact, I almost stumbled, not being used to wearing heels, but the younger man caught me by the hand.

"Whoa. Thanks." I said to him with a smile.

"You are quite welcome," he said, "Do you understand what has happened to you, what my father intends to do with you?"

"I don't really remember, but I guess I was dying, and they saved me, putting me in this body? And from what he just said, it sounds like I am supposed to be a gift to you, a companion?" I asked.

"More than a companion. But I have no interest in a slave" he replied.

"Well, I have no interest in being a slave," I said, looking at the older man.

“I promise you, we did not make a slave. We wanted a woman with a full free will.” the old man said, “Why don't you show her around the place, and see for yourself“

Something in the way he looked at me made me realize I was still holding the younger man's hand.

And that doing so was . . . pleasant.

Before I could really process that, the young man took me out of the room.

We went in silence down a hallway and then up a set of stars, and then the young man showed me a large mirror, giving me my first look at my new body. I was dressed like I could be going to a business meeting, with a black skirt, a black blazer, a white blouse with a bow at the neck, white hose and black heels. I was still processing my new look when the young man turned to me and asked "I guess we should introduce ourselves. I am called Marcus, what can I call you?“

Seeing myself as a girl made me realize I really could not go by Mat anymore, but I drew a blank on what to call myself.

Finally, I said, ‟Since I am your present, why dont you name me‟

He looked like I had hit him, so I quickly added, ‟I have been given a chance to start over, so I need a new name, and I just can't seem to think of one. So help me out‟

He smiled, and then said, ‟How about Belle, like from the fairy tale?‟

I grinned, and asked, ‟Does that make you the Beast?‟

‟Better than being Gaston‟ He replied.

With that, he took my hand again and led me to a kitchen, and got someone to make us some food.

While we ate, I took the time to try and understand the situation better. It was clear to me that Marcus found me attractive, but was unsure of what to do about that since he was also worried that I might not feel free to say no to him. As for myself, I realized that the biggest feeling I had was a sense of freedom, as if being a girl meant I had put down a heavy weight I had been carrying my whole life. That feeling, plus the fact I was attracted to Marcus, was forcing me to evaluate my life differently.

Then I decided to share everything with Marcus.

Once I started talking, it all poured out of me - my empty life as a guy, being reborn as a girl, and finding it wonderful, even my attraction to him.

I waited for him to tell me he was disgusted by me.

Instead, he sighed, and said, ‟Thank you for being brave enough to share that with me. Let me do the same. My family started out as gangsters in Europe. That is the only word that truly would describe them, even if they would have claimed they were giving order and safety at a time when the governments could not. At some point, they came to America, and did the same things they had done before, all in the pursuit of power. And they have succeeded, as you can probably tell by this castle and the technology responsible for your rebirth. My father is a perfect example of my ancestors, the only thing he considers important outside of power is his legacy - which is why he has been so desperate to get me first a girlfriend and eventually a wife, desperate enough to sponsor your rebirth.‟

‟You don't seem to be the type to need such extreme methods.‟ I said.

‟You might be surprised‟ he responded, ‟Come to my room, and I will show you‟

Once more we held hands, as he led me deeper into the castle, then upward until we got to his room. He pulled a large chest out of a closet and opened it, showing me that it was full of beautiful dresses.

He looked shy, and then said, ‟These belonged to my mother, who died when I was a child. I . . . I sometimes put them on. It helps me remember her.‟

I squeezed his hand, and said, ‟I haven't had a chance to wear pretty dresses, or actually anything other than the outfit I was dressed in just before I met you, but these look wonderful, and if wearing them sometimes makes you happy - well, I think I like the idea of you being happy‟

He looked deeply into my eyes, smiled, and said, ‟I think my father got something right with choosing you‟

It's possible we would have kissed at that moment, but a blaring alarm spoiled the mood.

Marcus and I raced down to the lab where I had woke up, but the man who had dressed me blocked the door, saying, ‟I am sorry, Marcus, there has been an accident‟

“It's my father isn't it?“ Marcus asked.

“Yes, He made the attempt to repeat the process that resulted in the young lady here.‟

“Why would he do that?“ Marcus inquired.

“He had discovered he had cancer a couple of months ago. So he had basically a double of himself made. Once we knew the young lady was successfully transferred, he wanted to use the double, so he would live long enough to see you married. But something went wrong. I am sorry, Marcus, but he's dead.“

***

That was two months ago. Marcus is still grieving, but he says I make it better. He also says he loves me, the person inside this manufactured shell.

And I love him too.

I may have started out my life as a depressed dude, and definitely did not see becoming a woman coming, but I am healthy, pretty, and loved.

If that's my future, it's a pretty good one.

END

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Comments

Rare Twist

Daphne Xu's picture

This story's twist ending was, I think, unprecedented for me: a tragic twist ending to a heartwarming, friendly story. I wouldn't be surprised if a organized-crime rival sabotaged the process once it was used on the father himself.

No doubt there are ethical concerns about the process. I'm sure that I would be glad to be alive and well.

I'm not surprised that you chose the picture that I chose.

-- Daphne Xu

Belle

Emma Anne Tate's picture

The perfect fairy-tale heroine . . . Great choice for a name!

Lovely vignette, Dot!

Emma

I thought it worked

the name just felt right.

thanks for the comment, hon, huggles

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one would hope so

make an interesting story for the kids: Mommy is part machine!

thanks for the comment, hon. huggles!

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alive is always good

thanks for the comment, Alan, huggles!

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Cyborg Or Android?

joannebarbarella's picture

She has all the attributes of a compassionate and caring human and she loves Marcus.

that is an interesting question, Joanne

a cyborg is usually a human who has been augmented with artificial parts, and an android is usually a completely artificial being that only resembles a human. She has the mind and soul of a person, in an organic body, just artificially grown.

Regardless, she seems happy, and she is loved, who could ask for more? Thanks so much for commenting hon, huggles!

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