Published: Jan 8, 2024
My seventy-seventh caption, this time a return to the world of inanimate transformations, with a dash of TG!
Marc agrees to help his friend Ashley with her art exhibition, though it seems she may have left out a few details as to what this would entail…
All image credits go to 大焔. I do not own any rights to the image used. Please support the artist!
All image credits go to their respective artists. I have and never will claim ownership over any image I've used or modified for a caption, and I always encourage you to check out the artist and their wider body of work when possible.
“I really must thank you again for agreeing to help me out with this exhibition, Marc!” Ashley gushed, holding her hands together out of pure excitement. “I will never forget this!”
“Yeah, don’t sweat it.” You brushed off, not really having any interest in her little “exhibition”. You were only doing this because you were attracted to her, and figured indulging her hobbies would help get into her pants further down the line. She was a hottie after all, despite her booksmarts and glasses. “Let’s just get this show on the road soon, alright Ash?”
“Ooh, I can’t wait!” She continued to drone on, dragging you towards the back of her house where her little “art studio”. It was a shed detached from her large house, and the inside was very barebones, with only a few lights and a single window to see with. Off to the side was a single workbench with a few sculpting tools laid out on it, and a few unopened blocks of clay. In the center of the shed, illuminated by the lights, was a slightly raised platform. It seemed set up to have a person-sized object, like a statue or something, placed on it.
“Alright, for this exhibition I’ll be doing a modern take on Venus de Milo, with a more maternal twist.” She began to explain, her words going straight over your head as you stared blankly at the small heater in the corner. “First, I’ll need you to remove your coat and shirt, then step onto this platform. Then, I’ll instruct you on the proper pose for the next part.”
Slightly surprised by how forward she was, you did your best to hide your excitement. You did as she instructed, putting your clothes on a nearby hook. Though your build was modest by most standards, you hoped your fairly-toned muscles would at least stir up something in her. With that, you stepped up onto the platform, watching her smile grow.
“Great, now I’ll need you to make a pose like ”this”, you see?” She continued to order, taking on a pose where she pushed her right hip off to the side while holding her left knee out slightly. She held her right arm down towards the side, while her left was pushed more outwards, away from her body. While you found this pose weird and girly, you continued to do as she said. After a few adjustments, she told you to freeze, saying you were perfect. Holding the awkward pose, you felt fatigued. “So, uh… are you gonna take a picture soon or-”
Before you could finish your sentence, you suddenly found yourself unable to move, briefly noticing some kind of blue flash before realizing you were stuck staring forward. You tried to move your arms and legs, but they had all gone cold, completely unresponsive. You would have begun to panic at that moment, but quickly realized you weren’t breathing either.
“Perfect! Oh, you’re so perfect!~” She squealed, holding some kind of book under her arm as she leapt up in triumph. She then rolled a full-sized mirror out in front of you, revealing that you had been completely turned into some kind of stone or clay. “You’re going to look so good once I’m finished with you, Marc! I’m jealous at how pretty you’re going to be!”
You tried to yell at Ashley, to call her all sorts of awful things, but your new form refused to yield to any of your commands. A newfound sense of fear and anxiety suddenly made itself known as you began to realize how utterly trapped you were now, completely at this crazy witch’s mercy. “Alrighty, first off, we’ll have to take care of these pesky things.”
You watched in abject terror as she picked up a large, wood-handled clay knife and approached with that same, innocent smile, stepping onto the platform with you. She then began cutting your arms off, your right arm just above the elbow and your left right where it met your shoulder. Though you knew you should have been feeling incredible, terrible pain as she did this, you were somehow even more terrified by the fact that you felt nothing at all. She casually dropped your discarded limbs into a plastic-lined container, grinning wildly. “Alright, now we can begin in earnest!” She said, casually brushing her hands off as if she hadn’t just removed someone’s arms. “You’re gonna need a lot of work, so let’s get crackin!”
After turning on a Bluetooth speaker and putting on some weird ambient music, she began carving away more of your body with her tools, usually transferring the bits she cut off to other parts of your body. Your hips were thickened and waist narrowed, shoulders and neck quickly becoming more feminine in tone as the hours began to drag on. She worked especially hard on your face it seemed, carving some old hairdo onto your head using bits of your shoulders to expand the hair in certain places. By the time she was done, your face had changed beyond recognition. Instead of your normal, expressive face, you now looked more like some chick from Gladiator or something, perpetually bored and expressionless.
“Sweet, that’s most of the basics done! Now we get to move on to the fun stuff!” She commented with a blush, little bits of your clay form smeared on her hands, face, and clothes. She opened up several of those unopened packs of clay you had spotted earlier, rolling them into rough balls. She used a scoring tool on your pecs, looking like dozens of cat scratches, before picking up both balls and slamming them into your chest. She quickly went about smoothing out the edges, making them blend into your girlish frame. As she finished and stepped away, she looked somewhat unsatisfied with the results, wasting no time going back and grabbing more clay to add to your increasingly ridiculous bust. They were too big!
“That seems about right. Now I just have to get the toga wrapped around you properly and work on your toes.” She nodded, having become completely absorbed into her work. At this point, your spiral of panic and horror had slowed to a dull sense of acceptance. Part of you even began to question the very nature of your existence. As hard as you tried to hang onto your humanity, you started to wonder if your previous life was just an odd memory. Existence was somewhere between being awake and dreaming beneath these lights now…
“Oh, you’re going to be the most popular piece at the exhibition, Marc!~” She said with finality, casting a spell that turned your clay form into some kind of hardened marble or something like that. “You’ll love being on display! Everyone in the city will be there, wanting to get a look at you, and once it's done I’ll change you back, and give you a nice reward.”
Though you should have been ecstatic to hear that news, especially with the suggestive tone she briefly used, you were still in too dull of a state to properly think about it. It didn’t take long for movers to arrive the next day, boxing you up and plunging you into total darkness. When the crate was opened, you found yourself put on display in the exhibition hall as one of the prime pieces, brightly lit and separated from the people around you with velvet ropes. As the night grew closer, it became even more crowded as people stopped to gawk at, talk about, and even shoot jealous glances at your cool, hardened body. You reveled in their attention, the feeling that you were something special, something to be admired. As the night reached its climax, you watched Ashley walk up to a podium surrounded by many well-dressed people, accepting their highest award with one of the biggest grins you had ever seen. Seeing her as happy as this filled your stone heart with a small sense of warmth, proud of the fact that you had enabled her to win an award. To your surprise, she dedicated her accomplishment to you, dropping your name and looking directly at you before walking off the stage. Later, once the crowds had begun to filter out, she continued to stare up at you with a glass of champagne in hand. An older man walked up to her and began telling her how much he loved you, shooting her increasingly large offers to buy you outright and put you in his museum. She denied all of this, though as those numbers went up and up, her expression began to soften just slightly, refusal slowly shifting to reluctance. Though you should have been horrified at this situation, part of you was now begging to be sold, to never be turned back and to be put on display, forever beautiful… forever…