Chapter Text
"Are you, like, sure you want to be dollified," the bimbo doll receptionist asked, looking over his file. "Like, no offense, but you don't look like the kind of guy that would be interested in that!"
Carl smiled, waving one of his hooves in the air with disinterest. "None taken, and I'm sure. I did my research, I know about as much about this as the people who made this factory. I'm ready."
The doll smiled. It was impossible to tell if she was once human, or perhaps some plastic molded into form and given sentience, regardless of how rarely said sentience was used. Bubblegum pink hair flowed into two medium-length pigtails, bangs covering her unnaturally bright-blue eyes. Looking down her face, you would find heart-shaped lips, the red shade popping out like fresh blood on snow. Her breasts and ass were the main attractions, of course. All the weight was, from what Carl could assume, taken from her midsection, giving her a perky hourglass figure. Her assistant attire was barely holding on, but she didn't seem to have the brains to care if her clothes burst off right this second. "Okay! So, like...you've chosen Model 6-KF?"
Carl nodded. It stood for Kind Friend from his research, and the sixth model was the best one he could find. She nodded, before practically skipping over to the door across the waiting room. "Right through here! Just walk through the door, and our machines will do the rest. Your mind will come back to you, like, after eighty years or so! But-" "The body modifications are permanent. It's okay, I understand. Thank you, miss...?"
"Betty! Betty the Bimbo!" His smile grew strained. "I...see. Well, if all goes well, I'll see you soon."
He walked through, metal arms grabbing his four legs and pulling him forward into a stream of blue gel. He felt his front legs turn into arms, fingers sprouting from his hooves before they turned into hands. His back legs got the same treatment, turning into human legs. His snout retreated, becoming more like a human face as his fur fell off of his body, leaving him naked and bald. His hat somehow made it through it, as he was dropped onto a conveyer belt. It suddenly stopped, leaving him in front of a screen.
"Carl White, Kind Friend Version Six. Complete feminization treatment." He smiled a little wider upon hearing that. But then, it continued, and confirmed his worst fears.
"New Owner has been designated as Paul Brown. Continuing process."
He looked around panicked, not because he was scared of being Paul's property. If anything, he was excited for it. He was more so scared because this was completely out of character for Paul. Unless this was somehow all planned, but that would be ridiculous. Surely, Paul would be disappointed by who he'd receive. Upon seeing that there was no way out from his position, he surrendered, letting the conveyer take him wherever it desired. It led him, of course, back to the metal hands. A tube was infused into his arm, pumping a fluid inside him. A headset fell on his head, covering his vision with spiraling colors. With one word, it would fully kick him, transforming him painlessly.
He knew that from his research, he even knew the word for the model. He was planning to say it immediately, but he was entranced by the screen he was forced to view, as whispered words went through one ear, tingled his brain, and went out the other. He wasn't one to complicate simple metaphors, but how else could he describe it?
"You are a good friend. You remember birthdays, you give the most thoughtful gifts, you enjoy your Master's company."
"Your Master is your best friend. Whatever they say goes. You are privileged to live with them full time. You will always be lesser than Master."
"You are useless when you aren't doing Master's dirty work. If your Master isn't happy, then neither are you. If your Master is gone for too long, you will hurt yourself, because you're so desperate."
Carl wrived beneath the grip. "I-I am," he choked out, struggling not to say that he was really that desperate. Although...maybe he was. He was the only one, to his knowledge, to ever willingly go for the dollification process. All to have even the slightest chance to see the love of his life again. But would he even still have those feelings once he went through this? The whispers kept going, getting louder and louder. It wasn't like he could go back, all he could do was listen now.
"If your Master falls in love with you, you must love them back. You already care about them more than anything else. Loving Master isn't that big of a jump for you, because of who you are."
"You are a Doll, who would give anything to be your Master's everything, yet you watch as they love someone else. You dare not say anything, because you're desperate, aren't you?"
"Say it, prove you're a good Doll. Prove that you can OBEY. Say that you are DESPERATE."
The words repeated again and again, and Carl couldn't take it anymore. "I'm DESPERATE," he screamed out, panting as the brainwashing fully sunk in. His cock shrunk into itself, becoming a velvety clit, aching with need. He was average when it came to breast-size, but he was at least a B-cup. He fell over as new, pure white hair sprouted from his scalp, soft and smelling strongly of mint. It went all the way down to the bottom of his back, which he didn't even notice. He was practically unconscious at this point. "M' desperate," the Doll who used to be Carl muttered beneath her breath, completely blissed out from her transformation. She was anti-climatically packed into a box, which was carried by the metal hands all the way to a strange device she could barely see. Her vision was so blurry, she couldn't make out anything but the glowing blue. Placed onto the device, she was instantly transported.
She heard the door open, felt herself being removed and being pulled out of the box, landing on the couch. "Doll C-412, wake up." She blinked, fluttering to life as she looked up. The llama in front of her was quite handsome for being an animal. Would that be zoophilia, she briefly thought, before registering that fact that this person just said her activation code. Therefore, this person was her Master. Her heart began to beat faster. "Whoa, hey! You, uh...you're my Master." Her voice was foreign. It was relatively deep, but still unmistakably a female voice, a little bit on the sweet side. The llama nodded. "I am. I, uh...would like you to call me Paul, though."
The command registered in her mind, her information being updated in real time. She nodded, testing the word on her tongue. "Paul...Paul..." She turned to him, smiling. "That's a good name. It's nice to meet you, Paul. I'm excited to be your friend!" The brown llama dipped his hat a little, bending over to grab something else from the box. He pulled out a green bow that was lightly striped with a slightly darker shade of green. It reminded her of something, a nightcap on her head as she committed various atrocities, but the memories slipped away like sand between her fingers.
He approached, though she had no idea what he was doing with it. "It's lovely to meet you too, Charlotte. Do you mind if I braid your hair?" Charlotte, processing her new name, nodded.
"I would love that!"