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![[Inanimate] Stellar Bodies: Man to Panties 2/2 by Transviscera](https://images-wixmp-ed30a86b8c4ca887773594c2.wixmp.com/f/87684d17-8b34-4054-a6cc-9b9e97dcb44a/dgg8mz5-a0216c6e-8ce7-4e6c-8db4-4b67e9611c9c.jpg/v1/fit/w_150,h_150,q_70,strp/_inanimate__stellar_bodies__man_to_panties_2_2_by_transviscera_dgg8mz5-150.jpg?token=eyJ0eXAiOiJKV1QiLCJhbGciOiJIUzI1NiJ9.eyJzdWIiOiJ1cm46YXBwOjdlMGQxODg5ODIyNjQzNzNhNWYwZDQxNWVhMGQyNmUwIiwiaXNzIjoidXJuOmFwcDo3ZTBkMTg4OTgyMjY0MzczYTVmMGQ0MTVlYTBkMjZlMCIsIm9iaiI6W1t7ImhlaWdodCI6Ijw9MjkwMiIsInBhdGgiOiJcL2ZcLzg3Njg0ZDE3LThiMzQtNDA1NC1hNmNjLTliOWU5N2RjYjQ0YVwvZGdnOG16NS1hMDIxNmM2ZS04Y2U3LTRlNmMtOGRiNC00YjY3ZTk2MTFjOWMuanBnIiwid2lkdGgiOiI8PTQwMzkifV1dLCJhdWQiOlsidXJuOnNlcnZpY2U6aW1hZ2Uub3BlcmF0aW9ucyJdfQ.SgU1Q1vLbRmvzOluayL4aGDjwIXJ3dGnIo42vaKMWdU)
"Just so we're aware, I do have three PhDs, you know," Dr Emma Jemison huffed. "I am an engineer and a physicist, and this is not what I signed up for when I joined the astronaut training program."
The NASA scientist cringed apologetically. "We understand, Ms Jemison. But we need to test how Colonel Bennett copes with variable G-force loading and none of us are as, uh, uniquely qualified as you." He gestured round to the team of scrawny male nerds.
"Fine. If it's for the betterment of all mankind," she sighed. "Which one is Colonel Bennet?"
"The blue sports bra with the lace trim," the scientist said, pointing him out within the pile of lingerie. "If you can wear him and get on the treadmill, we'll monitor both your vitals."
The invention of human-to-object transmutation had the potential to revolutionise space travel. NASA had only had the idea after hearing a report of a pervert turning himself into his wife's panties to avoid air fare, but the logic was sound. In theory, an astronaut could have their atoms re-organised on Earth into something as simple and durable as an inanimate carbon rod, be loaded as a payload on a rocket, and blasted to Mars at accelerations that would turn any flesh-and-blood body into a red smudge on the rear of the capsule. The food, oxygen, and water requirements of the carbon rod would be essentially nil. Upon arriving at Mars, an automated sequence would trigger the process to return their human body to them, so that they could collect samples, plant flags, and do all the little things that arms and legs were useful for.
The challenge of interplanetary travel had turned from a test of physical endurance to a mental one. For they'd be fully aware during those long months, objectified and fully immobile in their padded rubber case. It was no use putting a man on Mars if they arrived insane from their experience.
"How long should I run for?" Emma asked.
The nerd frowned. "Uh, however long you can. What would that be? Five minutes?"
As a perfect physical specimen of humanity, most of the staff had gone home for the night when Dr Jemison finally span down the treadmill. Her sweat trickled through the garment, as her breasts, stretching the cups to their maximum carrying capacity, finally bounced to a stop.
"He held up quite well, don't you think?" Emma said, running an appreciative hand over the garment. "How's his mind holding up?"
A technician jabbed a probe into the bra. "Neural integrity is at... 100.3%? ... He... He seems to be more sane than when we started..."
"Great!" she said, reaching behind her for the Colonel's clasp. "I'm not looking forward to looking him in the eye tomorrow."
The technician smiled. "Actually that won't be a problem! Our next test is simulating a shuttle moving at minimal power. No light, no sound. So if you can just leave him in the back of your panty drawer for a few months, that'd be great."