[TF, F-> Mannequin]

"Why are we naked?"

Joanne looked over her wife and smiled. "Because they said to be naked, duh."

Chris shook her head. "No, we're always naked for these. You'd think just once they'd develop a way to change us without taking off all our clothes."

"This is the cutting edge of technology! Of course they can't allow for clothes."

Chris laughed, waving her hand in front of her herself to dismiss the subject. She fluidly turned the motion into gesturing at the large rods before her. The two metal structures were long poles of a brushed stainless steel - presumably medical grade, given their soon-to-be intended use - with small rings adorning the length that were flush with the surface.

“What do you think these are?” Chris looked over the poles, each lengthing roughly ten feet.

“They are neural interface rods.” Neither girl had noticed the two technicians enter the room, and were surprised by their sudden presence. The pair of workers looked over the pair of naked girls who hadn’t even bothered to cover themselves, even as they turned to face the men. GIven their imminent fate, it wouldn’t make any sense to have propriety like that anyway.

“They’ll allow us to ensure your minds are completely safe during the process. We’d hate for you to be stuck as a living, thinking piece of plastic for the thousand or so years it would take to break down.”

“Wait, would that be possible?” Joanne’s excited voice cut in, almost too eager about the idea of decomposing for a millenium while remaining conscious for the whole time.

“No,” said one researcher cautiously, while the other hurriedly jotted down notes. “No, but we can look into that.” Joanne seemed mostly satisfied with that answer, and nodded for the man to continue. “You are completely naked for a reason, as well. The neural interface rods require a direct contact into your nervous system, and for the sake of thoroughly testing options, we will be performing two different methods of entry. Miss Joanne? You’ll be up first.”

Joanne stepped forward, and was guided to what appeared to be a dentist’s chair with different sets of pneumatic tubes and gearing around it. She nestled into the chair, and the technician secured her in a multitude of straps that held snuggly against her bare skin with little more than cushioned leather for padding. Once secured, the technician flipped a switch, and the entire chair pitched forward so that Joanne was suspended in the air helplessly. At this point the man picked up the long tube and locked it in on a mounting bracket on the wall behind Joanne’s now airborne rear.

“You may feel some discomfort in this stage of the operation. We need to insert the rod deep enough to connect with your spinal cord.” The rod began moving toward Joanne, lining up with her rear. The motors driving it whined in resistance as the steel tip met her hole, and with the guidance of the technician the rod managed to pop inside. Joanne yelped, reflexively tighting her intestinal hold on the machine and once again stalling its progress. It too several tense moments of the machine building up strength before it managed to overcome her hold.

Unfortunately, the power it had accumulated was more than necessary, and the rod shot multiple feet deeper into her gut than anyone had been expecting. Joanne’s eyes bugged out and her tongue fell out of her head. For a long moment, everyone was still and worried for the worse until Joanne let out a long, lewd moan.

“Ohh, fuck yeah! Chris, we have to get one of these for the bedroom, that’s better than any boyfriend!” Everyone let out a chuckle, and the facility employee got back to work.The rod seemed to rattle and shake, vibrating through to Joanne’s core.

“We are now inserting the actual neural link.” The worker spoke over Joanne’s soft pleasurable sighs. “While the rod went… a little further than expected, we don’t anticipate any negative effects.” The neural link moved through the rod like a snake, rattling the hollow metal. Joanne did her best to stay still, but she was twitching and shuddering against her restraints the whole way. Suddenly the link bumped into the end of the shaft it was in, and an opening formed at the end of the rod. After a brief second, Joanne fell limp and Chris started toward her until one of the workers carefully stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Stop, stop, she’s ok!” Once Chris had finally calmed down, the man continued. “She’s still conscious. The cable is just copying and backing up her mind to our servers but she can still feel and hear and see everything. She just can’t move. It’s the first step in the mannequinization, ok?”

It was long moments before Chris accepted what was being told to her, and even longer moments before she sat in her own chair. While she knew that Joanne probably didn’t care - it was another adventure for the transforming woman! - it still bothered her how lifelessly her wife hung there as the other technician removed the restraints and the chair unfolded away from her. She was suspended solely from the pole in her ass, arms and legs dangling downward toward the floor.

Chris’s chair suddenly sprung into motion, and Chris found herself on her back. She wasn’t sure when the restraints had been fastened. Her body was held with her arms straight out while her legs were bent in a frog like position that left her sex exposed to the cold air. She shivered, though she found she had hardly budged.

The rod was already pressing against her lips, sliding in on a mount that was on the wall. Chris couldn’t help but realize how turned on she was, and the ease with the rod entered her to her deepest depths only confirmed that fact. Feeling the wriggling and scratching of the neural link that rattled through the rod that was deep inside her only made her more aroused, and she understood how Joanne felt moments earlier. The sensation was blissful, nearly orgasmic… until it suddenly all stopped.

Chris’s head rolled to the side, held in place by restraints alone as her muscles went slack. She hadn’t even felt the microscopic endings of the neural link connect to the delicate nerve endings in her sex, her mind conjoined to the data server where she was being backed up. Not that she could feel the information flowing through the countless fiber optic wires joining her to the facility. Instead, she just felt her body limply dangling from the rod as she was disconnected from the restraints of her chair. Out of the corner of her vision, she could see Joanne was upright, like she was now, and the rods were driving themselves even deeper into their bodies.

The workers had left the room; the facility’s automated systems would take care of the girls now that they were properly mounted. The rods whisked away through a large garage-like door, the girls’ limp limbs trailing behind them like streamers. They made it to a large paint booth, adorned with plastic sheeting on the walls. A complex mechanical armature hung from the ceiling, and at the end of it was a paint sprayer. It suddenly, with little regard for it’s targets, started spraying a mist over their bodies. Several minutes and coats later, the girls looked both far more pale than usual. Any irregularities in their bodies like an errant freckle, their belly buttons, or their nipples were covered, leaving them perfectly smooth.

The rods continued their journey to another room, where the girls were suspended above a large pool of what looked like white liquid plastic. The rods inside them slowly expanded, filling them so tightly that there was no hope of the metal being removed. Which was the point, as the rods rotated so the girls were upside down, before completely submerging their bodies in the vat. Momentarily, panic ran through each girl’s mind before they realized that somehow they weren’t needing to breathe. The liquid made them feel itchy, but before long that faded to general numbness. They couldn’t see each other, let alone anything but the white liquid that swirled around them by invisible currents.

After hours, they were finally removed from the bath. The girls looked over each other as much as they could. Each wondered if the other could see at all, as both had perfectly smooth dome-like faces that, despite features like eyes, still allowed both parties to watch what was happening. Their bodies were perfectly whtie and hyper-glossy, with clearly defined separation lines marked at each of their joints. While Chris looked normal, though stuck in her frog-like pose, Joanne was missing her arms and legs. Joanne knew something was different about them as she felt some kind of strange sucking pressure in the vat, but couldn’t look at herself to be sure. The pole merely entered a space in her waist that once must have been connected to her asshole.

The next moments were a blur. The girls were plucked off of their rods with a pop by some more workers - different to the ones that helped them before - and they were carried effortlessly to some shipping crates thanks to their hollow bodies. One box labeled MQX-J, the other was labeled MQX-C. Special labels were adhered to the packaging and their plastic bodies were placed into specially shaped foam padding - though Joanne’s foam mold was still designed to accommodate her arms and legs that had gone missing. After this, their memories faded out until they woke up.

===

“What do you mean I can’t remember any of it?” Joanne was practically whining, which was a strange juxtaposition to her sitting naked in an executive chair in the boardroom of the facility that had just reversed her and her wife from being mannequins.

The director of the project sighed, putting his hand to his forehead. “You don’t care that you both were on display for literal years longer than your contract to us, but that you can’t remember it?” Joanne nodded, and even Chris gave a shrug and a slight nod. “You girls are something else.”

The man slid over a large external hard drive on the desk. “Any VR headset can play the applications on here, or you can use our equipment here to give it a shot. You’ll be able to relive any part of the last three years on here.”

“Can we do that now?”

It was a short trip down to the room designed for playing back memories. Apparently, these had been extracted from the original Joanne and Chris’s minds in their mannequin bodies. Their current consciousnesses were the ones backed up, ending around the time the data connection was severed.

The plasticized women had been packed into their crates. Immediately upon being sealed, subsonic tones began to be played. The girls reliving the memories had the pulses and waves translated into a sort of caption that floated on the edge of their vision, their thoughts being bombarded by the suggestions like the original girls were.

*Be sexy!*

*Show off!*

*Be adored!*

*Model clothes!*

*Be desired!*

On and on the recordings went reciting mantras to the encased girls under delivery to wipe them of their hopes and thoughts of being human. By the time they arrived to the store, all thoughts of humanity had left their head - the girls experiencing the recording merely felt thrown off and disoriented by the subdued influence of the recordings.

Once they were unpacked at the store, the girls - both current and past - realized what they had in store for them. It was a sex store, and the mannequins were often depicted in various erotic poses. Joanne’s torso mannequin displayed masks and corsets near the front counter, while Chris’s bent leg model was often on the bed or the sex swing, usually paired with a male mannequin, and usually wearing some themed outfits.

They were only supposed to be frozen like that for a year, and after a year boxes were sent with padded molds to hold the girls for shipment back to the facility.

The sex store made a grave mistake, however. The wrong mannequins were packed.

Joanne and Chris in the present felt a momentary surge of panic, but it was suppressed by their former mannequin selves sense of purpose. After all, the reprograming from the facility had made them complacent and desiring nothing more than to be on display. As time would go on, their original memories would deteriorate further, until their former lives as humans were nothing more than an imagined alternate reality they ascribed to customers that must have come through the store at some point.

The store kept using their high quality mannequins. Chris spent equal time on a mannequin pole - usually next to another pole for dancing due to her pose - as well as with a male mannequin lined up to her mounting hole. Her outfits varied with the seasons, and most of her time was spent near the front door showing off the hottest and most valuable products.

Joanne had a rougher life. Sitting next to the counter, she was constantly bumped into and felt up by random customers and coworkers. Her body quickly became plastered with the stickers of various brands of items that the store sold. Not that she minded being plastered like an unorthodox billboard - she was attention grabbing and she loved it.

After a couple years of checking every mannequin in the store, the facility finally managed to find their two special models. The sex shop packaged them in random boxes filled with packing peanuts and crumpled up paper, and the experience ended.

Joanne and Chris looked at each other, and then across the room. Two mannequins, still dressed in lingerie, one covered in stickers, stood waiting. The girls went over, touching their plastic selves.

"They're not conscious anymore. They live only in that hard drive I gave you. In a way, you took in their memories, they live as part of you." The director looked over the girls. "You can take them home, if you'd like."

There was no question about it, and soon all four of them - two living, two plastic - made their way home in their now cramped car. While at the facility, diagnostic screens flowed with cascading information to the viewers before them. Biological readings, as well as the information about technological specimens. One screen, labeled MQX-C showed countless little dots - nanobots - spilling through Chris's body like glitter riding through her veins. The other screen - MQX-J - showed a stray wire wrapped deep around her spinal cord that seemed to be moving on its own like a snake.

Beneath both of the displays were meters indicating a conversion rate, that slowly was creeping upward.