A short story about girls and boys becoming inflatable dolls to be sold in auction to their new owner. Don't like it? Don't read.

***

... Blonde woman fumbled with the zipper at the back of her pencil skirt. She had to be quick, as shininess started to creep past her elbows - not much time left. Still she tried to move with grace and turned on her heels, showing off her pink panties as the zipper started to slide down.

Public met it with great enthusiasm. Guys yelled, and bids were made...

“Three thousand!”

“Thirty two hundred.”

“Thirty five!” Auctioneer made records.

Meanwhile, the blonde finished her struggle against the zipper. Her butt bulged out of the triangular gap in her strict office skirt, obviously because her rear was inflating as the change proceeded. Skirt fell to her ankles. Blonde tried to step out of it, but couldn’t: her hips were transformed into flawless shiny stretchy material difficult to bend and move.

“Can I help you, Marie?” - asked the auctioneer.

“Yes, please. My legs ... they are getting stiff. Oh, I’m so clumsy.” - replied blonde.

He gently took her under armpits and lifted up effortlessly, leaving Marie’s skirt lying on the stage. She was very light already. Her remaining garments were just a set of pink bra, panties and stockings. Her top was taxed badly by Marie’s overflowing bosom, inflated two cups above the bra size.

Sight at the stage only heated up the ongoing competition. Bids exceed ten thousand, which was way above my budget. I quit the race at the very beginning - when she started to take off her blouse, my highest bid so far was one thousand three hundred and fifty - pretty much all the money I had.

Like many others, I didn’t intend to buy anyone at first. Just enjoyed the cheap striptease show, for mere fifty bucks of the entrance fee. Then I saw mousy college girls, moms in their forties, fat chicks come to the stage, receive an injection of the blue potion and transform into gorgeous inflatable beauties with perfect flawless faces, long shapely legs and bombshell curves. In the end they all lost their mobility and froze, waiting for the highest bidder to come, claim his new purchase and take the girl away. Sometimes, men decide to turn their women back after a while. In that case, half of the price is returned to her, they marry and live happily after. But no guarantees are given here - one agreeing to transformation should be ready to remain a beautiful inflated sextoy forever. It totally depends on the good will of their owners.

Actually the script is not fixed, it varies. Sometimes rich women come here not to become dolls, but to compete and even win the auction. I also saw a few male volunteers. Two of them decided to turn into female dolls, they became gorgeous inflatable women, yet they were sold quite cheap. Apparently not enough demand for the ex males. Men that decided to stay male dolls sold even cheaper, five or seven hundred. And one of them was bought by a guy. Ugh.

The show went on. It always does, till the last volunteer and there is usually a queue of eager women. Success stories of a few lucky girls that married billionaires and a general lust for a perfect body driven them. Though, the supply of naive women was large, yet not infinite. Feminist groups petitioned to shut the Auction down and waged a campaign against it in the mass media - that didn’t help with recruiting more willing women.

“Marie, you are almost done. While you still can, tell us how do you see your time with your owner? Where would you go?” - Auctioneer held Marie by her elbow, as her legs were almost transformed, tightly filled with air and started to spread uncontrollably. She’d fall on the floor without support.

“Oh... I dream about some ressort, white sand, me floating next to my owner in the warm salty sea water, bobbing on ocean waves, then in the evening making love in the bungalow to make him happy. It would be very easy to take me with you, once I’m deflatable.”

“Quite a ... popular fantasy, Marie. And I think a lot of men here are eager to share it with you.” - Said the auctioneer.

Marie approached the final destination of her journey to the doll-land. Her fingernails turned luscious red, when transformation claimed her hands. Her arms started to bend into a fixed position. Her face changed too, her mouth shut and then opened as an O shaped entrance. Sometimes this happens, sometimes it doesn’t - probably the final result of a transformation depends on the dirtiness of mind of the transformed person.

Creaking of the torn fabric announced the end of Marie’s pink bra. She managed to undo two of the three clasps, but failed to do the last one, until her hands became useless. Bra held for some time under growing pressure of her inflating boobs, but gave up finally. A piece of satin was thrown into the crowd with some force, when her bosom freed itself.

At that moment, the highest bid exceeded twenty-five thousand. Marie could be proud of herself, yet she lost her ability to speak and could only listen as the price went up.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we’re approaching the final moment.” - with these words, he turned around the helpless blonde. Everyone stared at her back, anticipating the last step of the transformation.

“Thirty Thousands!” - yelled a short swarthy man with signs of baldness.

A split second later it happened. An inflation valve emerged and formed just on her left butt-cheek, where the bouncy roundness of her ass was spilling over into her thin waist.

“She’s done! No more bids. We have a winner!” - announced the auctioneer.

Short guy rushed towards the stage, pushing less lucky patrons away from his path. He was dressed in a typical office suit. Not a very expensive one... Judging by his looks, thirty grand was a large sum for him. An average office clerk would have to save for two or three years just to have one moment of glory today. I doubt he has anything left for a beach resort vacation. Poor Marie, her dream isn’t going to come true any time soon.

Of course, her owner can decide to bring her back from doll to human, she’ll get fifteen thousand - enough for a proper honeymoon at Hawaii or Seychelles, however no guarantees for him in this case. She may just take money and dump him, because let's face it, he is getting old, not particularly handsome or charismatic, not rich. Maybe he is here, because his chances with real women aren’t bright. Probably he knows that, so ... Marie is stuck as an inflatable fucktoy for life.

Clearly, the clerk didn’t share my bitter thoughts. He reveled in glory, kissing his new doll, hugging her, shaking her above his head.

But the show must go on, the Auction needs a new lot. Winner hugged Marie one last time, posing with her for cameras, then he reached down for her rear and pulled her plug.

Auctioneer brought his microphone closer to the ass of the deflating beauty, so everyone in the hall could hear the loud hissing of escaping air.

“Bye bye Marie and James, you are James, right?” - he asked the winner, but didn’t really care about his name. - “Wish you happy holidays at some paradise island.”

A man and his deflating doll left the podium. Blonde doll started to slump and sag in his hands, her head tilted sideways, her gorgeous breasts lost their tightness and shrank. I couldn’t see the rest, as they both mixed with the crowd. Not that I really cared.

***

Usually there are many volunteers, sometimes catfights occur between women wishing to be the next lot. However, eventually most of these airheads became dolls.

“Who will be the next mistress of the Auction?” - asked the showman addressing the audience.

“I see a lot of beautiful ladies here!” - he continued - “Don’t be so shy, you deserve your ten minutes of glory.”

Indeed, there were ladies in the hall, some of them could even be considered beautiful. I looked around and saw behind me a couple of college girls, wearing black vests and tight jeans, their hands were covered with tattoos. One of them dyed her bang in acidic green color and had a piercing ring in her nose... That particular detail was peculiar - piercings, especially larger than simple earrings are no no for would be dollies. There is a risk of starting to deflate before completing transformation. Which can have some negative effects. Punctures are bad, it is only safe to deflate through a valve.

I quickly turned away, when they noticed me, but continued to ponder why they even came here. Actually the second girl could still volunteer, I noticed that she was on the plump side. Her vest didn’t close around her chest and the t-shirt under it exposed a lot of cleavage. Positively, that other girl could make a good doll. Transformation makes fatties slender, while exaggerating their already big breasts and hips. I saw here a lot of fatties turn into irresistible sexbombs.

Still they giggled and murmured behind me, completely ignoring the calls of the auctioneer.

“Come on, it is a fantastic experience! And in the end you get half of the money. It’s like divorce, but better.” - he continued his usual jokes, which auction frequenters heard at least ten times already.

“Okay. No brave women left here. Maybe it is time for men to show an example of courage and cheer the ladies up? ”

Actually, I thought about volunteering. Though, for men it often ends with embarrassment - girls aren’t bidding at all, or bid ridiculously little. Chances are, you’ll be bought by a gay man, rather than a straight woman. On the other hand, there are so many women now, and they aren’t volunteering, maybe they are here for.

My thoughts were interrupted by a mighty kick in the ass. Literally. Someone from behind pushed me forward, I didn’t fall, barely kept equilibrium. The next moment I realized that I’ crossed the red line around the podium and am standing right next to the auctioneer.

“Welcome to the Auction, oh brave one! What’s your name?” - the showman’s voice boomed in my head, while I tried to figure out what to choose: a shame of admitting that I’m not a volunteer, that I was thrown here against my will, or a shame of undressing in front of a crowd, while transforming into a sexdoll?

“I don’t want to be sold, it is a stupid mistake” - I said, but my voice wasn’t heard in the cacophony of cheers and cries.

“Come closer, I don’t hear you from there” - said the showman.

I mentally cursed and went up to the podium... too late to turn back, so I raised my hands and pretended that everything was great and according to plan. At least I could save my face. Walking by the stairs from the floor to the podium I cast a glance back and saw these two girls. Skinny one that had a piercing in her nose showed me a thumbs up, her fat friend blew me an air kiss and then jumped waving her hands. Her sizable breasts jumped and bobbed in her t-shirt. Things were going according to the plan indeed, but it was their plan.

"So, what's your name?"

“I’m Derek”

“Great, now please support Derek!”

I was greeted with yet another squall of yells. I was so starved of female attention, now a lot of women looked at me with anticipation and it was flattering and igniting my dormant sexual drive. “Hell yeah, do you want a show? I’ll give it to you!” - I cried into the microphone.

“Good! Show’em. But first things first, Derek, you must choose now. A blue pill or a pink pill?”

Actually, there are no pills, he has two syringes with gel. Counterintuitively blue liquid turns you into a female doll, while pink results in a male doll. But colored pills are such a cliche media reference.

“Do you want to make a lot of money and be a rich girl or would you prefer to stay poor dude” - taunted the auctioneer. Of course, that was true. Girls sell better. But I wouldn’t see that money anyway. For the rest of my life I’ll be fucked by some ugly guy...

“How do you know? Maybe some oil princess decided to honor us with her presence? By the way, women are no less smart then man and can be rich as fuck too. So, I chose a pink one.”

“I like your optimism, Derek. Now please turn around and loosen your belt a bit.”

I did as he said. Showman pricked my ass with the needle, the pain was short. Formula started to work immediately numbing everything and deafening all the unpleasant sensations.

Now there was no way back. I realised that I don’t know how to strip dance, didn’t do any rehearsal and have no idea what to do next. I could just stay and try to tell some romantic bullshit about me, while transforming. Great idea if I want to lull them all into sleep and be bought for 99 cents just for laughs sake.

On the positive side, I had a classy shirt, stretchy jeans with a belt, boots ... not too bad. My body shape is far from athletic, yet the transformation agent should fix it, and I won’t start undressing until I grow some abs, pecs and other buffs... So I had some improvised plan.

I walked around the scene, making smooth confident moves and looking into the eyes of women. And they looked back at me, followed me! That was so new...

First I got rid of the boots and socks. Difficult to take them off in a sexy way, they’d just spoil the show. Meanwhile, I felt my arms and chest filling up my shirt. Although my growing muscles were fake, I had an impression that I’m really getting stronger. My butt inflated a little, getting snug and tight in my jeans. Now my belt was not needed any more, so I pulled it off with a single move and whipped the floor with it. Then I took it with both hands and played a little, trying to stretch it with my arms, making my shoulders, triceps and whatever muscles bulge a little..

“Fifty bucks for that hunk!” - a first bid came. I saw that woman, pretty, middle aged, kind of slim.

“Sixty”, “Eighty” - quickly followed. Wow, a good start - I mentally congratulated myself.

"One hundred!" - that was the voice of a girl with a nose piercing.

My chest continued to shape, filling my shirt. Now I could show something and I couldn't delay stripping anymore. My body produced ominous squeaking sounds, rubbing against fabric. My legs inflated too, so I grew an inch taller. At the same time, it felt more and more difficult to move them.

Of course, I could simply take off that shirt. But I had to take advantage of it. First of all, I ignored women that didn't look in my direction, bored, distracted, busy chatting with their friends, their smartphones, whatever. Also scantily dressed women weren't my targets - they had lots of male attention anyway, they could look at me with some interest, yet had no intention to buy, they were sellers.

I made eye contact with a pretty pale blonde, she had glasses and a grey cardigan, her look resembled a teacher. When she smiled back, I undid the upper button. She immediately raised the bid to three hundred.

Then I caught sight of a plump brunette and repeated the trick with her. It worked like a charm.

When I ran out of buttons, my chest and six pack were exposed and my price reached six hundred. Soon I took off my shirt completely and threw it away. My shoulders and pecs became rounder and had visible plastic sheen, of course all the body hair vanished. Border between creeping plastic and skin was near my elbows and somewhere on my neck. I could tell that by a feeling of coolness.

"One thousand!" - said the fat chick with pink hair, one that probably pushed me towards the scene.

"You are doing better than your predecessors, Derek." - said showman. - "You are worth more and aren't pantless yet."

"That won't last long, mister Hughes" - I said and pulled the zipper of my fly.

That was surprisingly hard, my jeans were really stretched by my butt. Finally I pulled harder, while I still had some strength in my hands. Zipper got stuck, instead I managed to pull my pants down a bit.

Girls looked at my struggle and giggled in amusement. I couldn't ruin my show and went for a plan B. Stuck my fingers between the fabric of my jeans and my hips. My skin gave to the pressure, so I could hook my pants and pull them down, practically twerking my ass in the process.

That wasn't very sensual, but added some comic effect to my performance. As a result, my price reached fourteen hundred. I freed my inflated hips out of my jeans but during my fight, I almost lost my black boxers. Immediately returned them to their proper place, yet half of the public had a chance to see my ass. Fortunately, my boxers held on the front side, the only reason they stayed in place - was an inflated bulge of epic size. Stretchy black lycra held my equipment within, yet left little to imagination.

So, whatever was left of my dignity, was lost.

"Twenty one hundred", "Twenty four!", "Twenty five". My endgame approached so the bids went up.

Auctioneer approached me: "Derek. You put up quite a good show, though lack of experience... But it certainly was fun. Soon you'll be with your new owner. What's on your mind, what do you think about it?"

"Well. Twenty minutes ago I didn't know, I'll volunteer. That was quite spontaneous. But now... Now I want to just be with my woman, my... Mistress. Sit by her side, hug her, be a cushion for her. Spend nights and days together. Make her happy..."

"I'm not a woman, so I can't tell for sure, but I think your idea is simple, yet romantic." - Mr Hughes held me by my elbow, so I didn't topple, when my feet became mere air filled latex. My hands were on the verge of complete conversion, a rubbery wave creeped up to my lips... I barely had any control of my body.

Crowd cried - "Pants off, pants off". I didn't want to get completely nude. And frankly speaking I couldn't do anything. My lips didn't turn into O mouth, but I lost my ability to speak anyway.

"Derek is almost done, ladies. You have about ten seconds left to put your final bids" - said the auctioneer. He propped me up and pulled my boxers down a bit, showing a chunk of my butt. I wanted to protest, but couldn't.

"Twenty eight hundred", "Three thousands!"

"Three thousands..." - that was the voice of a pink haired fat girl, I couldn't see her though - "and two hundred seventy eight bucks!" - her friend with a piercing finished.

And then it happened. A popping sensation right there, in the place that was jabbed by the needle five minutes ago. I can't see my inflation valve of course, but I saw it many times on others.

"No more bids. We have a winner. Or two winners this time? Anyway, girls, please come to the stage." - he exclaimed.

I heard steps. Then the auctioneer handed me to someone else. I feelt girls' hands feeling me over, probing my tightly inflated skin with their fingers. Finally they turned me around and I faced pink haired fatty. She was holding me. And smiled.

Meanwhile her friend explained: "I'm Jess and my friend is Helen. We didn't want anything, just watched the show... Then, that boy, Derek, he looks kinda cute and has a nice butt. So we thought we might, well, make friends, you know. Of course he wasn't rich enough to buy anyone here, he just watched the show. But then we decided to act and talked him into volunteering and well, because he was reluctant and shy. Now we combined our savings to buy him in the last call." - her story was rather mixed up and the part about talking me into volunteering was outright bulshit. I couldn't say anything in protest, though.

“That’s a really heart-warming story. Wish you three to have a good time tonight. As for the rest of us here, our night is not over!” - showman boomed into his microphone.

Helen just hugged me and in her embrace all my bad thoughts vanished. I just wanted to be with my new mistress. To please her. I rubbed my face against her cheek and shoulder, as we went back from the podium to the main floor. My chin rested on her breast.

Her hands were on my shoulder and back, bending my inflated skin gently. Helen just hugged me and every touch of my sensitive tightly inflated body felt amazing.

Then I heard the voice of Jess once again - “Time to package him, you know sis, he’s too bulky.”

Helen just nodded. I felt a third touch - on my butt cheek. Jess yanked my plug unceremoniously and I started to hiss. That didn’t change my situation much, I was already immobile and helpless, so all I could do - enjoy my deflation, relax and slump on my mistress' shoulder.

As we went away from the stage, I saw a little queue of new volunteers ... all of them were guys. Looks like my little performance started a new trend in the Auction.