[TF, F -> Melting/Flattening, F -> Motorcycle]

[Commission for sportscarfan18]

Chris's barefoot sizzled violently against the metal plate, and she withdrew her foot in shock.

"Why is it so hot?!"

The engineer standing next to her sighed. "You girls always want crazy transformations faster than we can invent them. You want to be melted, it's going to take some heat. Unless you've changed your mind…"

Chris frowned, and turned back to the roomsized plate of material that had visible waves of heat coming off it. She placed her foot against the plate again, and the sizzling erupted again for a brief moment. It faded over time and the sensation never reached the level of pain, but it was certainly hot and uncomfortable. Her second foot joined the first on the hot plate.

The instructions given to her had been clear - walk across the room and in the process be melted down to a human shaped puddle. The rest would be in the hands of the technicians surrounding her, making sure their project wouldn’t break - or suddenly start damaging Chris.

Despite knowing everything that was supposed to happen, Chris was still staring in awe at the small amount of pale liquid surrounding her feet, and the trail her foot left as she picked it up and took another step forward. A few more steps, and Chris realized her feet were gone. Not gone, exactly, just long streaks of flesh toned goo that extended from the stumps of her ankles.

Her toes wiggled behind her, about a foot away from where they should have been. A nervous giggle escaped her lips, which quickly turned into an excited giggle. Chris 'ran' as best as she could, her legs melting down into flat liquid versions of themselves, her stumps propelling her forward across the hotplate. The heat flashed and sizzled her sex as they collided, and despite being left behind she could still feel her privates tingling from the heat. Without legs, crossing the hotplate would be more difficult, and the watching technicians weren't offering much advice.

Chris wasn't to be deterred despite this. Using her hands, she gripped and clawed and pulled her melting torso forward. The first spike of pain appeared, but it's small size and distance made it easy to ignore. Her navel piercing - a replica of the one that Joanne became for her previously - unexpectedly conducted the heat and actually reddened her skin around it. Still, the heat wasn't too much to handle, and she continued to crawl.

Not only was her torso slowly smearing along the floor, but her arms were as well. Her fingers were still reflexively clenching as she used her arms to push herself along, her elbows being particularly useful as her decently sized bust was reduced to a pair of spherical puddles. By the time Chris had reached her neck, her arms were gone, leaving puzzling how to manage the final distance.

She looked down at the floor, mere inches from her eyes. Her jaw flexed, trying to get some leverage to pull herself forward. It didn't work as well as she would have hoped, and her entire head tipped forward onto the radiating surface. Face down, her head slowly melted, leaving her slowly becoming a pool.

Minutes went by, as her hair spilled around her and similarly melted down. The heat seemed indiscriminate, melting everything that made her up easily until she was little more than a smear across the floor.

A cool breeze rushed across her back and Chris shivered. She tried to look back, but had no strength in her body. She felt another warm surface come in contact with her back side, suddenly sizzling as her exposed surface started it's own melting process.

Suddenly Chris was moving through the air, though she could only tell based on that she could see everything moving around, her own sense of motion distorted and disappearing. It turned out that her body was sandwiched between two panes of glass, giving a flattened view of her liquified body on display from behind and ahead. She looked straight ahead, spotting her reflection in a polished stainless steel surface.

Every inch of herself was flat, and it made her look wider than she really was. Based on how far apart the glass plates were, she could only speculate how thin they had made her, but she couldn't be more than a millimeter thick by her reckoning.

The heat slowly dissipated, Chris’s ultra flat body comprising infinitely more surface area than density. As she cooled, her body felt super stiff and firm, the molten fluid turning into a thin solid. Unable to look around, Chris swore she could see something circling her at the bottom edge of her vision. Her body hardened and she slowly lost any chance of being animate again, as her mind drifted off into slumber.

 ===

Joanne watched the recording that had been emailed to her inbox with awe. The video was professionally recorded, and still had timestamps and markers in the video. The camera started looking straight up, giving a unique view of her lover as she made her way across a sizzling hot plate of plexiglass, chemically treated to allow the special process to occur. Joanne realized that Chris never noticed the camera, even as her face slumped down onto the plastic and melted into a puddle.

It was a sudden change of scene as the plates holding Chris were lifted away, allowing Joanne to see her from the front and rear, as the camera slowly circled around the cooling woman. Joanne had to admit that watching all this happen after the fact was tantalizing, wondering to herself what might have happened next, or where Chris was now.

Joanne glanced at the timestamps, realizing they had skipped nearly an entire day in editing, but nothing had changed with Chris. Except for the metal blades now positioned behind her, that is. These metal blades had a sharp enough edge on them that they glinted in the sterile laboratory lighting. It took Joanne a moment, but she realized they were advancing toward Chris’s backside slowly. It was hard to tell when they had entered the flattened girl - she showed no visible reaction as though she hadn’t even realized it herself - but eventually, the metal blades had broken through the entire substance that was Chris’s body and pushed against the plexiglass.

Joanne leaned toward the monitor, mesmerized. The plexiglass and blades all removed away from the girl, leaving what appeared to be ribbons of flesh dangling from the surfaces they were stuck to. Workers collected onto the stage, grabbing the pieces and collecting them onto a work table. From here, arranged in a slightly less human shape there seemed to be some sort of pattern to the mess of pieces on the table.

Another cut in the footage, jumping forward now to another day in the future. Joanne checked her calendar - this was only a couple days ago. At this rate, it would be up to the present very shortly. Some workers started picking up pieces of Chris from the table, and the camera panned to follow them to the workspace where days earlier Chris had begun her melting journey.

Joanne gasped loudly, and giggled. The mystery was laid bare, it seemed, and the answer of what was happening was simple: Chris was becoming a motorcycle.

The technicians, each carrying a flattened and frozen piece of Joanne’s still-living wife, started to apply Chris to the metallic motorcycle. Joanne looked up the model of the bike on her phone, not wanting to close the video of the transformation unfolding before her eyes. It was a current year model, a hybrid with all the features and bells and whistles to boot. Chris’s body was pressed against the machine, any bubbles or creases being smoothed out by hand. It looked as though her anatomy had been configured to be a motorcycle with how precises the cuts had been on her form.

The camera started to pan again, showing the finished work. Chris looked beautiful, her body looking both wrapped around and a part of the bike. At some spots, like the frame holding the front wheel, it looked like the metal pipes had vanished, and now Chris’s arms stretched down to where her fingers were splayed wide to hold the front wheel.

But at other points, like the fuel tank and shroud protecting the engine, it looked less like an normal body of Chris, but instead that motorcycle had been designed to look like her. The vast unbroken expanse of the fuel tank was a perfect place for Chris’s smooth and unblemished torso. The naval piercing shone on the surface, as though it was the brand of the expensive manufacturer who had produced this one of a kind bike.

Joanne frowned as the bike started to be wheeled off the platform. She had been studying it still! The temptation struck her to rewind the video, but she decided to preserve. Whoever had created this little movie for her to watch seemed to have spared no expense, what with the circling cameras and the presentation of it all, so she trusted them.

 ===

Chris had felt her body stuck onto cold metal, and then slowly she felt her hands and feet turning. It was a strange sensation - her joints normally couldn’t freely spin like wheels on an axle, but they were doing exactly that. She knew she was attached to a motorcycle as she had picked the exact model she would become, but it was still such a change of experience. She was both inanimate and still moving, a strange combination unlike anything she had turned into previously.

She was being wheeled off the stage into a back area. Unfortunately, she knew the cameras couldn’t follow her here given the nature of the process. There was a reason her fuel tank was entirely empty and her batteries weren’t installed, and that was heat.

The walls slowly closed in as Chris sat in a small room. The walls were made of solid metal, and each side had an indent to fit half a motorcycle. The walls slowly pressed together and Chris perfectly fit in the grooves that was made for her machine form. The warmth quickly turned to heat, and the heat quickly turned into an inferno.

The walls were radiating her with an extreme amount of heat and ultraviolet radiation. Her melted form was being semi-permanently bonded into the metal of the motorcycle, making this her body until the technicians used their equipment to restore her. She could feel every imperfection in the surface of the metal open and pulled in her thin form. The cracks and pits in the machine accepted her, and they became a singular entity.

The process was exhilarating, as Chris became more than just a thin coating, her sense of self swelling to encompass the entire motorcycle. But just as it was becoming numbingly easy to fall into, the heat stopped and the walls retracted.

 ===

The video cut from the production floor, to a parking lot. More evidence that this was pre-recorded, in Joanne’s opinion. She watched as the camera bobbed up and down as well as side to side, the operator walking across the empty asphalt. Based on the shadows, Joanne figured it was early in the afternoon, and the cameraperson had to be wearing a portable camera.

Joanne almost hadn’t even noticed the bike as the operator climbed aboard, before realizing it was her lover! Chris looked so natural as a bike, her pale skin looking like a cream colored shell on the machine. The driver started Chris’s engine, and a roaring purr came from inside of Chris’s metallic torso. The camera tilted down, giving a quick glance at the machine between his legs. Joanne had looked over the torso previously, but hadn’t realized that on either side of the riser was Chris’s breasts. They were delicate mounds that housed gauges to the driver, being both innocuous and obvious at the same time, depending on if you knew it was a person and not just a bike.

Suddenly, they were flying down a road. Apparently, Chris had quite the engine in her and her rider wasn’t afraid to show off. Down the highway and expressway they soared, the camera weaving fluidly through the light traffic. Joanne thought she recognized the streets, especially as they pulled off into a small local town.

It was her town!

Chris, the driver, and the camera feed that Joanne was watching navigated her small town’s streets, working toward the residential area. At the end of the row, there was Joanne and Chris’s house, and they were pulling up into the driveway!

Joanne suddenly realized she was hearing double, both the hum of the engine in the video and the hum of the engine outside her window. She quickly turned off her computer and rushed outside. There was Chris, and the man who drove her here. He handed her the keys and an envelope, and walked back to the car that had followed them there without another word. In an instant, Joanne was left alone with her new motorcycle.

“Woah,” she whispered, walking around the inanimate machine. The fine details were obvious now, and she could take her time to examine the bike. Just like Chris’s hands and arms, her feet and legs were forming the structure of the rear wheel and the frame holding it. The seatpadding seemed extra generous, but that may have been an optical illusion as Joanne marvelled and felt up Chris’s stretched ass.

Joanne sat down on the bike, feeling up the magnificent surface. “Mmm, you’re so beautiful darling.” She stroked the fuel tank, her lover’s torso, like one would sensually touch a woman. Her fingers lingered on the push button ignition. Around it was a flattened representation of a woman’s sex, with one part of the anatomy that lended itself well to be a button stretched over the entire surface of the ignition.

Which a chuckle, Joanne firmly pressed down on the button and felt the engine she was straddling come to life. She checked all the gauges; her wife was filled and ready to go. Off they drove, stopping first at a bike shop.

 ===

Joanne flew down the expressway, wind whipping through the hair hanging out from the bottom of the helmet. Her leather jacket and jeans weren’t quite as bright as the day she bought them at the biker supply store. They showed the wear and tear of being used daily. Shortly after buying them and tidying up matters at home - an easy matter when you live a life that often involves not being able to attend to affairs - Joanne set out on the road.

Every couple days she would wash Chris, making sure her bike’s cream toned panels were sparkling like brand new. It quickly became apparent though that just driving around and staying at random hotels would grow boring as well as expensive as time went on, and Joanne would have to cut her trip with her wife short.

Joanne shifted her weight on the bike’s seat, enjoying her ass on her wife’s while she rode down the road. Her back was pressed against a large pack of supplies. It turned out, Chris was a pretty standard model of bike, with all the fittings that allowed. Some stainless steel racks were quickly installed over the rear fender where a passenger would sit, allowing Joanne to have a place to store her newfound collection of camping equipment. With a tent and sleeping bag, as well as the means to cook meals away from a city, Joanne had a goal:

Visit all sixty two national parks in the country, all from the comfort of her bike.

After nearly two years of migrating across the country, staying where the seasons were favorable, and spending each night under the stars, she was on her way home. Visiting Hawaii and Alaska, as well as every state in the mainland, she had gone through a lot of experiences with Chris. Both of them had seen their fair share of wear and tear, though Joanne could heal being flesh and blood.

Chris, however, was metal and paint and that wouldn’t heal over time. Joanne had to take her wife into a machine and get repairs to keep her running as well as possible over the long journey. The wheels had been replaced multiple times over, and new batteries had been installed. But, as a mark to remember the trip, she had a shop install a metal piece onto the side of Chris’s torso. The metal formed cursive letters, spelling out Chris’s name in a style that wouldn’t look out of place on a bike.

Together, they made it the whole way, saw the sights, and spent the time together. So Joanne drove toward the address in the envelope where the team that had made Chris a motorcycle would restore her back to flesh and blood.

After arriving, removing her camping equipment, and handing the keys over to the technician at the counter, she watched her prized bike disappear out of site. By the end of the day, Chris appeared from behind a door, and ran to Joanne to give a big hug.

“Mmmph! God I missed you!” Joanne smiled, looking Chris in the eyes.

Chris gave a soft laugh. “Why? You were grinding on me every day! And every time you’d start my engines…” She gave a purr, her eyes fluttering. She took a step back, letting Joanne take a look at her naked body. “They noticed you made a couple changes to the bike, but I argued they should let me keep them, at least until they fall off on their own.”

Joanne looked up and down Chris’s body. Her hands and feet were black and shiny, looking like the same material as a freshly polished tire, though smooth like fetish gloves. Chris’s ass sported a set of metal bars going across, seemingly the results of the rack that was installed, though now it looked like a set of handles attached to her hips. Up one side of Chris’s torso was the cursive lettering, looking exactly like the bike branding, though now it looked like a flat silvery tattoo. Unlike a tattoo though, it was cold metal to the touch, being just thin enough that it bent with Chris’s body as she moved.

Joanne’s hands grabbed the handles on Chris’s hips and pulled her close. “Let’s call a ride home, I want to catch up on the last two years with you.”

“I was there, you know.” Chris grinned, sticking out her tongue.

“Oh, I know you were there for the parks… you weren’t there for what I intend to do to you at home!”