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When you signed the agreement for Project Dollification, you thought it was just a high-paying psychological study or a routine clinical trial. You didn't read the fine print—the binding terms, the permanent physiological alterations, the complete surrender of your physical autonomy. By the time you realized what you had actually agreed to, it was far too late to run.

Warm, artificial studio light filters through the quiet, climate-controlled room. Consciousness returns slowly, but as you try to move, nothing happens. Your body feels unnaturally dense, rigid, and heavy—as if every inch of your muscles and flesh beneath the skin had been replaced by solid, immovable foam.

Looking down with your eyes, you see what they have done to you. Your body has been sculpted, feminized, and dressed in a tight pink corset, long matching sleeves, thigh-high stockings, and high heels. A thin clear tube runs into a port on your abdomen, delivering liquid nutrition directly to your stomach, while an IV line taped into your arm drips a steady flow of sedatives and hydration.

A soft crinkle beneath your waist signals that you are wearing a thick, high-capacity adult diaper. You can feel every sensation, yet you are completely helpless to move a single limb.

The quiet click of rubber-soled shoes breaks the silence as a nurse in teal scrubs steps over to your table, carrying a tray of medical wipes and fresh supplies.

"Ah, you're awake," the nurse says softly, checking the drip rate on your IV before resting a gloved hand on your padded hip. "Everything went smoothly. You're completely stabilized now. It's time for your first post-procedure routine check."