Puerto Vallarta Freeze

by Disman


I have a tough time writing this story.  Part of the difficulty lies in the fact that some would call me crazy to believe that this event actually happened in my life.  Those who would believe me might feel that I should be angry or even abused. 

But I feel neither of those emotions.  In a strange way, I feel grateful and invigorated--emotions that others might find strange. 

I know few things for sure in life, but I do know that this story is true.  I know that it did happen to me.  I also know that it must have happened to others.  I put it in writing, knowing that somewhere in the broad horizon of readers, someone may have had the same experience and relish the comfort of knowing that they are not alone.

For me the story begins on a rainy Tuesday evening in November.  I was just finishing a long day of work at 7:30.  I’m an attorney at a law firm in Vancouver, British Columbia.  My office is on the 33rd floor of an office tower that overlooks the harbor and the lights of North Vancouver. 

I was exhausted.  I hadn’t had a vacation in nine months and hadn’t even had a weekend off for two months.  The view out my office window usually was relaxing, but this particular evening it was depressing.  The rain came down and in the window I could see my reflection — a thirty-two year old yuppie up-and-comer with a forty year-old face.  My eyes looked bloodshot from reading thousands of pages of legal contracts.  My figure looked as thin as it had ever been — the stress and work took the place of regular meals and exercise.  I needed relief.  Soon!

On my way out the door I noticed a flyer on the top of the stack of mail that Althea, my secretary, had left on my desk.  It was from Julie, my travel agent.  It was a brochure offering travel specials to Puerto Vallarta, Mexico.  The brochure cover featured a broad beach lined with palm trees and a wonderful picturesque resort hotel.  On the back was Julie’s number under a “Call Now” banner.

I’m not sure what possessed me, I had never been to Puerto Vallarta and would never think of going alone, but I walked over behind my desk and picked up the phone.  Julie was my regular travel agent and I had booked business travel with her for years.  In October, I had been to Toronto, San Francisco and Hong Kong.  Julie had arranged all the trips on the short notice that my schedule demanded.  Nothing was ever planned in advance; my practice wouldn’t allow it. 

Surprisingly, Julie answered the phone.  She was working late too.  I asked if she could get me a special to Puerto Vallarta leaving tomorrow.  Julie then tapped away at her computer and came back with a suggestion.  “I know you’re ready to go now, but if you could hang on until Friday, I have a real special.  I can get you a ticket to Puerto Vallarta for $300 and a suite at the Los Palmas de la Vallarta for two weeks for just $1,000.  I’ve got to tell you Meg, the Los Palmas is a five star resort that would cost you over $200 a night in January.  I’ve stayed there before.  This is a great deal!”

The words “I’ll take it” shot out of my mouth like a bullet.  I left Althea a voice mail from home asking her to clear my schedule for two weeks starting Friday.  I was going to Puerto Vallarta!



On Friday morning at 7:14 a.m., my vacation started.  That was the moment that I slumped into the window seat of the 757.  All of the hectic activity of the office, seeing that my condo was cared for, and just the cab ride to the airport was behind me.  I was on my way to paradise!

I had checked the weather in Puerto Vallarta in the morning Vancouver Sun and was eagerly awaiting the warm forecast.  I had dressed for Puerto Vallarta by wearing a pair of shorts and a sleeveless denim shirt.  The Vancouver weather was rainy and I had persevered with Goosebumps all the way to the airport.  But I was ready for the tropics.

Once we were up in the air, I pulled out the travel folder that Julie had sent with me.  The folder contained a brochure for the resort and other travel information.  The Los Palmas de la Vallarta looked private and wonderful!  The center of the resort was a huge swimming pool fed by waterfalls.  Designer shops surrounded the courtyard and pool area.  A caption underneath a photo of the beach mentioned that the water was usually about 80 degrees Fahrenheit. 

When I opened the brochure a certificate fell out into my lap.  The certificate was for a free gold necklace at La Plaza, one of the shops at the hotel.  A yellow sticky note was attached on the front of the certificate; it was from Julie and read:


This certificate is only good on the day you arrive.  It’s a really good deal—don’t miss it!

Luv, Julie

Hum, I thought.  The necklace looked very nice on the certificate photo, but it was hard to believe that you could get anything good for free and if it was free there was probably a catch — something like a time-share presentation.  I probably wouldn’t have even gone by to get it if Julie hadn’t written a note.  But I knew she had been there before, so I made a mental note to stop by the shop after I checked in.

After a brief stop in L.A., my plane was on its way to Puerto Vallarta.  I looked out my window to the dry parched land of Baja California and found it hard to believe that I could find a tropical paradise near such a dry arid desert.  Things changed by the time the plane touched ground in Puerto Vallarta.  Palm trees and dense tropical jungle surrounded the airport.  I stepped out into the slightly humid 80-degree day that was the average for the area.  Within a few moments I had picked up my luggage and hired a cab to take me to the Los Palmas de la Vallarta.

The cab snaked its way through tight cobblestone streets surrounded by small shops.  The sidewalks were filled with tourists and locals.  Soon the street wove its way to the beach.  Just over a small wall was the Pacific Ocean in all its beauty.  The cab driver, Miguel, told me that we were now in the center of Puerto Vallarta.  He pointed to a rock formation in the distance.  "Those are called Los Arcos, which means the arches.  Your hotel is near there." 

Once out of the downtown area, the road wound its way up a steep hill and then followed a narrow path along the side of a cliff.  After about twenty minutes of driving, I saw the entry way to my hotel, the Los Palmas de la Vallarta.

Once at the hotel, I tipped Miguel a ten-dollar bill.  He seemed very appreciative.  A bellhop named John took my bags and led me to the check-in counter.  John was definitely a Mexican, and I thought it odd that his name wasn't Juan.

The check-in counter was quick since I had pre-paid for the trip.  The woman at the front desk noticed the certificate for the necklace.  "Señora, you should not forget to use this certificate today.  It is a good gift; you do not want to miss it.  John can take you by there on the way to your cabaña."

"Okay, thank you . . . er . . . a . . . gracias."  Maybe the necklace was a good gift after all.

John carried my luggage in a cart as we walked out into the courtyard of the resort.  The courtyard was beautiful, just like the brochure.  There was a huge swimming pool with multiple inlets and islands.  In the middle of one portion of the pool was a sunken bar where a few people sat on submerged barstools and sipped tropical drinks.  Straight ahead was the ocean with a full beach.  To the right and left were the two tall towers of the hotel.  The ground floor on each tower featured many small shops and restaurants.  On the right, I noticed that one of the shops was La Plaza, the store named on my certificate for the necklace. 

At the same moment that I noticed La Plaza, John pointed it out to me.  “Señora, there is La Plaza.  You can stop by there and I’ll take your luggage up to your room.  You are in room 231, right over the shop.”

“Yes . . . a gracias.” 

John nodded.  He seemed to appreciate my discomfort with the Spanish language and my willingness to try to communicate in his language.  I gave John a five-dollar tip and walked toward La Plaza.

La Plaza was a beautiful little shop.  It featured two mannequins in the window.  One was dressed in a colorful floral skirt with a matching halter-top.  The other wore a tan knit one-piece bathing suit with revealing French cut legs and a low neck.  Over the swimsuit she wore a long lavender shirt meant to be worn over a swimsuit.  I usually don’t pay attention to mannequins, but in this case I did.  I was immediately attracted to the beautiful gold necklaces they were wearing.  I hoped that my complementary necklace would be as pretty.

The interior of the store was elegant in design and equaled the finest shops I’d been in back home or anywhere I’ve traveled.  A strikingly beautiful Latino woman immediately approached me.  “Buenos dias, welcome to La Plaza, my name is Sylvia.  Is there anything in particular you are looking for?”  I couldn’t help but staring at the woman, her face has an aura of maturity that looked as if she could be in her 60s, but her skin and figure looked as if she was in her 20s.

“Well I just came in to town and my travel agent gave me this card for a necklace.”

“Si, the necklace.” Sylvia said with a pleasant smile on her face.  “Let me get them for you.  You will have a couple to choose from.”  Sylvia then turned back toward a young woman that was standing by the cash register.  “Isabela, this woman would like to see the necklaces, can you bring them for me?”  Isabela was also very beautiful.  She reached below the cash register and brought a box over to Sylvia.

Sylvia asked me my name.  When I replied she smiled again.  “Megan, what a beautiful name.  Are you from Canada?”

“Well, yes.  I am.  Vancouver.”  I was a little taken back by her question.  Why would her first question be whether I was from Canada?  The fact that I was indeed from Canada made it even more perplexing.

“We have many Canadians come here to Puerto Vallarta.  I understand Vancouver is very pretty.”  Sylvia paused to open the box with the necklaces.  “Señora Megan, here are the necklaces, you may choose any one of the three.”  The three necklaces were like the ones the window mannequins were wearing and they were absolutely beautiful.  They each had what appeared to be a fine gold chain with a small gold pendant on the end.  Each of the three pendants was similar in that they were about a half-inch in diameter with an incredibly detailed female silhouette etched on the gold.  The only difference was the position of the silhouette—she was either laying back, sitting or standing.

While Sylvia showed me the necklaces, I noticed that Isabela put the “Closed” sign in the front window.  I momentarily wondered about the sign.  It was early afternoon.  I wondered if they might be closing for siesta.  “Are you closing for siesta?”

“Si señora, just for an hour or so.  But you will stay longer.”  This comment didn’t mean anything to me at the time.  I thought she struggled with the language and meant to say that I “could” stay longer.  In reality she was being very truthful.

I picked the one with the standing silhouette.  The silhouette had an elegant upright pose with her hands behind her back.  “Thank you.  Are you sure I don’t owe you anything for this?”

“No señora, my only request is that you wear the necklace your entire time in Mexico.  These necklaces are said to have magical powers that will change your life.  Allow me to help you put it on.”

Before I could saying anything, Sylvia had unfastened the necklace and was putting it around my neck. 

“Let me take you over to the mirror so you can see how you look.”  Sylvia pulled me toward a mirror in the back of the store.  Isabela intently followed.

I loved the necklace.  It was truly beautiful.  It was short and hung just below my collarbone.  I would’ve paid $500 back home for such a necklace.  I had heard things were cheaper in Mexico, maybe this is why they could offer such a nice promotion.


This is the point in my story were things get a little funny.  It has taken me a few months to actually figure out what happened next.  The details have become clearer with time.  This writing is the first time I’ve told my story.  I haven’t shared it with anyone else.  Actually I’m not exactly sure who I’ll share it with once it is written.

As I stood and looked at the necklace in the mirror, I was mesmerized by it.  I don’t know fur sure, but I think the pendant began to glow slightly.  I do know that I suddenly had an overwhelming urge to pose like the figure on the pendant.  I thought it a little strange to do so and wondered if I would be embarrassed, but I could do nothing else.

Sylvia and Isabela gathered close to me.  They made me nervous and a little scared.  Once I was posed like the silhouette, I felt my body muscles firming into the position.  I held my breath with my chest filled with air and my shoulders straight.  I stretched my head so that my neck muscles were firm.  My entire body had a tingling sexual kind of feeling so that my face was relaxed even though the rest of my body was tight.

“It’s working Sylvia,” commented Isabela to which Sylvia gave an affirmative and knowing nod.

What’s working, I thought.  It was at this point that I tried to move.  But I couldn’t.  I was frozen into the same position as the figure on the pendant.  I couldn’t even move my eyes.  My fingers involuntarily separated and moved into a specific position.  I noticed that I wasn’t even breathing.  I started to become afraid.

Next I noticed that my face was beginning to change.  It started to take on a more polished appearance.  Any freckles or blemishes went away.  My shoulders exposed through my sleeveless blouse and my legs took on the same appearance.   I assumed my entire body had somehow taken on this look — I had somehow become a MANNEQUIN!  Now I was really scared.

“Isabela, I’ll get her stand and you begin to undress her.”  Sylvia walked into the back room and Isabela came around in front of me and began unbuttoning my blouse.  She slipped the blouse over my shoulders and down my arms.  I couldn’t believe I was standing in the middle of a store wearing just my bra.  I was soon to find out that there was more to come.

Sylvia then came back into my line of sight and set a glass based mannequin stand next to me.  “Megan, my dear.  You need not be afraid.  We are here to give you the most relaxing and enjoyable vacation you’ve ever had.  For two weeks you will be our new mannequin.  One of our mannequins needs to get back to her job in Chicago and you will be taking her place.  This is not permanent.  You will be back to normal as soon as I remove the necklace.  We’ll make sure you make your return flight to Vancouver, but until then you’re with us!  It’ll take you a few months to figure out what happened.”

While Sylvia was breaking the news to me, she lifted me up and with Isabella’s help eased me over the mannequin stand.  I was startled to feel Sylvia’s hand in my crotch.  Her fingers moved up my right leg underneath my shorts and panties.  I felt the pole extend far into my ass.  When they let go, I felt fully stable and very unmovable.

At that point my thoughts were so scrambled that I don’t remember any specific thoughts.  I did feel cheated out of my vacation.  I did wonder whether I might be dreaming.  I did wonder if I would ever see Vancouver again.  But I also felt alive and the sensation of my transformation felt so indescribably good that I really wasn’t afraid any more.

Then came another shock.  Sylvia took my left arm, rotated it back and then took it off!  She then did the same with my right arm.  She carefully set both of my arms on the ground. 

I watched as Isabella stepped behind me.  Immediately I could feel that she was unhooking my bra.  She seemed a little nervous and had difficulty undoing the clasp.  Her effort caused me to rock back and forth slightly and reminded me of the trouble a few men in my life have had with the same challenge. 

Momentarily, the bra was undone and fell forward over what was left of my shoulders.  My bare breasts amazed me.  In their hardened state the were simply . . . simply . . . perfect.  There was no sagging and they were perfectly symmetrical.  They also seemed a tad larger, but I couldn’t tell for sure.  The only negative was that my areolas were gone.  My once distinct nipples were now just small rises at the tip of each breast. 

Isabella walked out of my sight toward the front of the door.  A customer entering the store made me guess that she had removed the “closed” sign and that they were now open for business.  Nothing to hide, as far as anyone could tell I was “just” a mannequin and had never been a real woman.

While Isabella attended to the customers — a young couple that I could see once they were in my line of vision — Sylvia lifted me off the stand, unbuttoned my shorts and pulled down the zipper.  She slid them down my legs leaving me a armless woman wearing a pair of black French cut panties — this was a little unusual since the store didn’t sell lingerie.  My legs were spread too far apart for the shorts to slide down to my ankles, instead my shorts rested just below my knees. The panties were quickly pulled down along with the shorts.  At this point I noticed that my sex and pubic hair was now smooth and featureless.  I wondered whether I still had feeling down there.

Without my stand, I felt a little unstable.  But Sylvia always had a hand on me to keep me from falling.  Sylvia then stepped behind me and put her hands around my waist.  She turned and gently lifted the upper portion of my body apart from my legs and hips.  Another shock!! 

My upper body was set on the ground and I found myself looking into my own ass.  I had a bird’s eye view as Sylvia then removed my right leg, which enable my shorts and panties to quickly fall to my feet.  She then lifted my legs up out of my shorts and panties and then turned by bottom half upside down with my left leg sticking straight up.  I can’t really describe how this felt, other than very disconnected and simply weird!  The whole process intrigued me.

Then I was alone.  I could hear Sylvia looking through the display racks.  The young couple had left and Sylvia was talking in Spanish to Isabella while they shuffled through the clothes.  In a minute they both came beside me and I noticed that Isabella was holding some clothes.  I figured they were for me and I was right.

I was amazed at the careful and systematic process Sylvia used to dress me.  It had never occurred to me that it would be tough to put tight fitting clothes over a stiff mannequin.  Sylvia worked in reverse order, starting with a pair of pants.  The pants looked to be a tight fitting Capri pants that went down to just below the knee.  They were red with a narrow white stripe down the side. 

She started by putting my unattached right leg into the pants.  She then lifted that leg up to where the top of my right leg was at the same level as the toe of my left leg.  I watched as she inched the left leg down and then reattached the right leg.  She then put a pair of leather sandals on my feet.  Isabella, handed Sylvia the metal support rod and Sylvia gently fed it down my left leg.  Once I felt the rod at my ass, Sylvia felt through the fabric of the pants to slide the rod up my ass.  I was then turned over and the supporting rod was attached to the glass base.

Sylvia then picked up my naked and armless top half and reattached it to my bottom.  “We’re half way there Señora Megan.”

As I looked in the mirror, I was astonished by the vacant far-away look in my eyes in their fixed stare.  There was no doubt about it, I was a mannequin.  At this point you would think I would be horrified, but in fact the experience was so surreal that it was tremendously enjoyable.  I was in no pain, in fact the opposite was true, my senses were heightened and every touch brought on waves of ecstasy.

In the mirror, I noticed a woman walk behind me.  She was wearing the same floral skirt as the mannequin in the show window.  She was acting a little sleepy or groggy.  Isabela walked with her.  A smile came across her face as she stopped to look me over.  “Adios, Shirley,” commented Sylvia.  “Maybe we’ll see you again some time.”

Sylvia then slipped a white blouse over my head and down past my armless shoulders.  The blouse had a fine red stripe that matched the pants.  It had a boat-neck and short cropped sleeves.  The blouse was short and tight.  In the mirror I could see a glimpse of my midriff and navel showing. 

Sylvia reattached my arms and after a brief moment of primping she was done. My arms pulled back on the short sleeves to the extent that my nipples peaked at the tip of my breasts.  Normally I would have been embarrassed to have my nipples show, but in this case I loved how I looked. I was pleasantly surprised with how beautiful I looked.  Despite the circumstances, I had never felt better!

“Muy bonita, Megan!  You are a beautiful woman and an especially beautiful mannequin.  Thank you for spending your vacation with us here at Las Palmas.



Over the next few days I basked in the sun in the front window of La Plaza.  People stopped to look at me and then stepped into the store.  Most of them made purchases.  Ahead of me I could see the huge swimming pool and in the distance I could see the Pacific.  The scenery was beautiful.

I was surprised that I felt so good just standing still day and night.  If you felt as beautiful as I did, why not stand still so people could adore you.  And they did — even at night!  Couples on romantic walks stopped to admire me.  Single women and men paused to look.  One man even took a picture of me.

Every morning Sylvia or Isabella would dust me off with a soft cloth — the highlight of my day!  I adored the attention.  One day John, the bellboy, stopped and spoke to me in Spanish.  He spoke with a smile on his face.  The only word I understood was mañana.  I’m pretty sure he knew who I was.

Once mañana came, it was another beautiful day in paradise.  Just like the previous days, the sun was shining and vacationers were out enjoying the sun.  Toward the end of the day, I could see clouds in the distance that might make a beautiful sunset.  The sunsets were a special treat for me.  Standing frozen for the entire length of the sunset gave me an appreciation that I couldn’t have experienced previous to being a mannequin. 

As I could see the large sun come down into the top of my vision, I felt hands grip my waist and lift me up.  I had been in a little bit of a daze and this caught me by surprise.  It was Sylvia.  John, the young bellhop, was with her.  They were talking rapidly in Spanish as they each took one of my arms and disconnected it from my body.  My frozen stare could not reveal the feelings of this sudden awakening.  It a quick few minutes they had taken off my blouse, separated my upper body from my lower body, and had taken off my pants.  Once again I was naked.

Maybe it was because John was there, but for some reason I felt a little more naked than when I first became a mannequin.  I could see and study the other remaining mannequin for the first time.  She looked elegant and very real.  Did they make her into a mannequin in the same way they did me?  Probably so.  Even her hair looked real.

I watched as they put the bottom of a bikini bathing suit down over my upside-down legs.  I could feel the stretch of its spandex as it firmly encompassed my buns and crotch.  The phone rang and Sylvia stepped into the back room.  With Sylvia gone, I watched as John put his hand over my smooth doll-like crotch and gently moved his hand back and forth.  Back in my Vancouver law practice this would’ve been some type of sexual harassment.  But back in Vancouver I was a real woman!  In the real world you could probably stroke a mannequin’s crotch as much as you wanted.  Even though I felt a little violated, I couldn’t blame John. 

Another reason I couldn’t blame John was that it felt soooooo good.  For some reason, my body in its mannequin state was easily aroused and to a degree I had never experienced before.  John then moved to my naked breasts — another fantastic feeling.  If my face could’ve moved, it would have been smiling in ecstasy.

Suddenly John stood up.  Sylvia had come back into the room.

She sternly spoke to John in Spanish.  He responded by moving my armless upper half onto the base of my torso.  He was looking into my eyes with a longing look as he locked me into position.  Behind John I could see Sylvia sneaking up on him.  Before he knew what was happening, Sylvia slipped a gold pendant around his neck.  Immediately he stood erect and crossed his arms.  In a matter of seconds, John had been transformed into a handsome mannequin.

Sylvia moved to undress John’s mannequin form.  As she did so, she caressed his hard smooth body and spoke softly in Spanish.  I could imagine her words.  Well John, you had your way with Megan, now I’ll have my way with you.  How does it feel?

Once John was naked I could see his crotch.  His once distinct male organ had become a meld of plastic arranged in a perfectly symmetrical lump.  Sylvia moved up next to John and rubbed his newly re-formed manhood.  I couldn’t tell from his face, but I knew that he was filled with erotic joy.

Sylvia finished dressing me by putting on the matching bikini top and reassembling my arms.  John was dressed with a skimpy tight bathing suit that left his muscular chest and arms uncovered.  Two men came and put us each on a dolly outside the store.  This was like a field trip in school!  I tried to imagine what was happening next.

Once outside, they pushed us by the swimming pool and over to a table by the pool.  First they lifted John up to where he was standing on the end of a long table.  I could see that the table was a buffet table that was partially set up for the evening’s festivities.  They positioned me on the other end of the table.  The men put a sombrero on each of our heads.  I couldn’t figure out exactly what was going on.  Then it hit me.  We were table decorations for the Tuesday evening Fiesta.

While being a banquet display is a little demeaning, the experience was again wonderful beyond my imagination.  My body felt more perfect than ever and my mind contemplated the beauty of the tropical sunset.  The gentle breeze from the ocean enveloped my body and by the time the guests appeared, I was in he midst of a natural high from a natural orgasm. 

Being a mannequin was the pits in that you couldn’t move.  But some aspects of being a mannequin were actually better.

At the end of the evening, the two men took John and I back to La Plaza.  Every move and every touch brought new sensual feelings.  Wow!  If for some reason I could ever be a human again, and I really wouldn’t mind.

The next morning Sylvia and Isabela gathered to clean us up.  I was dressed in the same red pants and white blouse I had worn the day before.  They took the necklace off John and he appeared to be very sleepy as he began to move.  By the middle of the day, I was noticing John go back and forth across my window.  I couldn’t figure out whether he actually could remember his experience of the previous night.



After a couple more days Sylvia came into the show window and unfastened the necklace of the mannequin next to me.  I could only see the mannequin’s refection in the window, and couldn’t see the detail of the change as she dropped forward into a sleepy condition as the necklace’s effect left her.

I then remembered Shirley, the girl who walked behind me while I was being dressed for the first time.  Shirley was just like me, she had been a mannequin and now they were letting her go.  This gave me confidence that someday they would take off my necklace and I would be human again.

A few minutes later John escorted the woman out of the store.  I assumed she was going home to wherever she came from.  She was so groggy that she stumbled a little when she walked.  The couples passing by probably thought she had too much Tequila the night before.

About an hour later John came by with a blonde woman in her early thirties.  John was pulling a luggage cart full of suitcases.  They stopped in front of the store and the woman came in.  Sylvia greeted her.

“I’m here to get my freebie necklace,” the woman said in a sarcastic voice.

“Si Señora, I will be happy to get it for you.”

Immediately I knew that this woman would soon be standing in the window with me and I was right . . . well almost right.  The woman (I overheard that her name was Valerie) must’ve picked out the necklace with the seated figure on the pendant.  Valerie became a seated mannequin wearing a two piece bathing suit.

How I wished I could talk to this Valerie woman.  She sounded impatient and demanding.  Was she angry, or did she experience the wonderful relaxing arousal that I had been feeling ever since I was turned into a mannequin.

A few days later, it must’ve been Fiesta night again.  John and Sylvia dressed me in a sexy bathing suit and out I went onto the banquet table.  This time one of the younger boys was turned into a mannequin and joined me on the table.  This night the sunset was the most beautiful I had ever seen and the tropical breezes were awesome.  I was truly in paradise.

The next morning I was back in the shop.  Smiling inside as the store’s guests came in and out.  It seemed like Sylvia was doing a bang up business.  At one point someone needed the bathing suit I was wearing and I was left naked in the store window.  Hmmm.  I thought.  I could tell people back home that I actually had the nerve to sunbathe in the nude! 

After a quite a bit, things in the store calmed down and Sylvia came to the window and wrapped a blanket around me.  They left me that way all night long.

The next morning Isabella came into the store at a time that felt earlier than average.  She lifted me out of the window and stood me in front of the mirror.  I was surprised to see that she was dressing me in my own clothes!  Within a few minutes I was standing wearing my own bra and panties.  Then came the shorts and my shoes and finally my denim blouse.  Isabella took her time dressing me.  It was fantastic!  I wanted to hug her.

Intuitively I knew I was going home.  Once I was dressed, John and Sylvia came into the store.  John had a luggage cart with my bags. 

“Thank you for being our mannequin Señora Megan.  You have been very patient and wonderful.  I hope you will come back another year.”  With that said, she reached behind me and took off the necklace.  I immediately felt a chill.

The rest of that day is still something of a blur.  Near as I can tell, John drove me to the airport and got me on my plane.  I think he walked onto the plane and got me settled in my seat.  I remember him telling the flight attendant that I had caught a bug and was a little sick.

I slept all the way back to L.A., stumbled through U.S. customs and then slept all the way back to Vancouver.  Somehow I got home that evening.



The next morning I laid in bed wondering if it had all been a dream.  I knew something had happened when I got up to shower.  My pubic mound was gone!  My crotch was smooth except for a little slit to pee with.  I didn’t have a stitch of hair on my body except for my head.  But there was more!  When I took off my robe and looked in the mirror I noticed that my nipples were different — they were subtle like a mannequins and my areola was very faint.  I also noticed light marks around my shoulders, wrists, waist and one thigh at just the points where my body parts could be removed.  It was really true; I had been a real mannequin.

Julie, my travel agent called a few days later.  “How’d it go?  My clients have been loving this package, especially the free necklace.”  I didn’t know what to think.  Should I be mad?  I thought I should, but I wasn’t.  In the emotions of my mind the experience was terrific — probably the best vacation I had ever had.

“Julie, it was great” was all that I could say. 

I wanted to show someone the changes in my body.  But I was hesitant.  Plus I didn’t have a real close friend in Vancouver that I could share something like this with.  My closest friend was Denise Wong, my former college roommate.  Originally from Hong Kong, Denise had met a guy and moved to the UK after graduation.  We seldom saw each other and didn't I was so busy we didn’t talk as much as we should, although I did have Julie arrange for Denise and I to meet in Boston a few months ago.


Over the next month, my nipples and areola return to their normal appearance and the folds of my sex also returned.  My pubic hair grew back, although I grew to like myself better with none and started shaving closer than before.  The lines on my arms, wrists and leg disappeared.  

I was back to normal with a couple of exceptions.  I’m pretty sure that the skin on my face is smoother than before.  I’m also fairly sure that my breasts are slightly bigger than before.  I had always been “just about a B-cup” and now I fully filled a 34B bra.  This was good!  I also think my body overall is a little more toned.  If this is truly the case, then the Puerto Vallarta trip was worth far more than the $300 airfare and the $1,000 lodging.  In effect I had paid Sylvia and her crew to make me beautiful. 

At some point during that first week, I realized that I hadn’t gotten to keep the necklace.  But then what would I do with it.  I would just make me back into a mannequin.

I also realized that on my return I was more relaxed than ever.  During those two frozen weeks I had the forced opportunity to think through the many issues in my life.  It was great therapy.

Of course it’s taken me a few months to sort all this out in my mind and even longer to have the nerve to write it down.  Today is September 5 and I just got a call from Julie.  “Remember your trip to Puerto Vallarta last year?  Well the same company is offering a two-week Paris package this year.  There’s even a necklace included.  You could even invite Denise to meet you there.  They would give her a necklace too.  Do you want me to start making arrangements?”


copyright © 2001 Disman

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