Never Buy the Clothes off a Mannequin

by Disman

I had been living in Seattle for only six months, having moved up from Southern California after graduating from USC with my degree in accounting. I had never been to the Northwest, but my family situation in Southern California led me to believe in needed a change of scenery. My father had left us when I was thirteen and my mother passed away during my Junior year at USC. My only sibling was my sister Elaine, twelve years my senior. The previous year, Elaine married an insurance executive who was transfer to France. I seldom heard from her and had no other family.

Loneliness was a word that was often in my thoughts. My personality was very introverted and shy. I enjoyed research and analytical things-this served me well in accounting. I was a professional success but personally I fought with a depression that was the result of feeling alone in the world. In four years at USC, I really hadn't developed any close friendships or relationships. School was my life, my shelter from reality.

The new environment in Seattle was helping. The Northwest is a beautiful place to live. My apartment was on Queen Anne Hill overlooking the downtown skyline and Mt. Rainier. My job was great and I was starting to develop some friendships. My attitude was becoming more positive-maybe I, Monica Fisher, finally have a future, a life worth living. However, I could've never guess my future and how one trip to the department store could change my life forever.

One of my friendships was Cheryl. She worked in the cubicle next to mine at the accounting firm. Cheryl came to the accounting firm fresh out of college just like I did. She was from Eugene, Oregon and had graduated from Pacific Lutheran University in Tacoma. She had a really dysfunctional home life and was experiencing some of the same loneliness that I was. We went through orientation together and our friendship began.

Another friendship was just beginning to develop. One of my accounts was a father and son physician practice. The son, Russ, was a pediatrician and very nice. He was thirty and just finishing his residency at the University of Washington. He asked me out shortly after our first visit together and by the time of this story, had been seeing each other at least twice a week.

Russ and I had just recently begun sleeping together. Russ was nice and the sex was great. My life was definitely taking a positive turn. However, Russ had one complaint-my wardrobe. You see, my personality was fairly conservative and practical. These personality traits played themselves out in conservative dress and a tendency to wear clothing item for a long period of time before replacing it. Style wasn't of much concern to me, practicality was.

Russ was constantly urging me to "shop a little" or "buy something new." He would often point to a female passerby and suggest that "a dress like that would look gorgeous or sexy on me." The practical side of my personality had a hard time with his comments. Why couldn't he accept me as I was, instead of making me into something I wasn't?

This frustration was only intensified in our sex life. My conservative outside appearance carried through to my underwear. The panties I wore were somewhat old and had lost their original shape and color. My bra was a conservative underwire style with no lace. It didn't look like new, but it still fit and held me together. It was functional and until Russ came along, there wasn't anyone to see it but me.

I had an okay body and could probably have worn other styles, but I just didn't feel the need. I remember reading an article in the Seattle papers that profiled a local model. This model was commonly featured in advertising for the area department stores. According to the article, she was often paid a premium for modeling underwear in the ads and was said to have a perfect body for that job. The newspaper gave her measurements. We were the same height! After seeing her measurements, I went into the bathroom with a measuring tape and stripped to my bra and panties. My bust, hips, waist -all my measurements-were the exact same as hers! I refused to believe that I might have the body of a model.


One morning during our coffee break I was sharing my frustration with Cheryl. She immediately took Russ's side. "He's right, you dress like you are twenty years older than you are! You should spend a little money on some lingerie and new clothes, you'd be surprised how it would make you feel. Let's go over next door to the department store at lunch!" Almost before I knew it, "okay" popped out of my mouth. We'd spend our lunch hour shopping. Russ would be surprised."

This department store was a client of ours. It was huge-nine floors-and the envy of the industry for its high profitability. After a quick espresso for lunch, Cheryl had us in the store and taking the escalator up to the lingerie department on the fourth floor. Lingerie shared the fourth floor with children's wear. The lingerie department was huge, with an aisle splitting it in half with foundations on one side and sleepwear on the other. Hosiery was off in the distance toward the escalators.

The corner of the foundations section nearest to the escalator was guarded by three headless mannequins, all in identical poses. The mannequins were identical in every way. They were standing very close to each other at forty-five degree angles from the main aisle. They were standing fairly erect with their arms behind their backs in a "parade rest" pose. Their skin was a very pale flesh-tone. They were each wearing the same bra and panty set-only the colors were different. The first mannequin, the one directly in front of me, had on a lavender set. The mannequin to her right had on a pink set and the last one had on a pastel green set. Behind them was a banner that read "Soft Spring Pastels."

We both paused for a moment and looked at the mannequins and then Cheryl said, "The lavender would look good with your skin tone. That's the kind of bra and panties you should get-sexy and confident, but not overdone."

I agreed, I like the style.

"Try them on then."

"Well not right now, let's browse a little bit more and I'll come back after work." With that, we spent the next few minutes looking around at the seemingly endless racks of bras that they had. Eventually a saleswoman named Lydia visited us. We knew her name by the large name tag she wore. She looked to be about forty-five and strikingly beautiful. She wore designer fashions and carried herself with great confidence. I told her that I liked the lavender bra and panty set on the mannequin but would probably come back tonight and try them on when I had more time.

"What size would you be looking for?" she asked.

"Probably a 34B in the bra and a medium in the panties, but I haven't shopped for quite a while."

"They do come in that size. We close at 6:00 tonight, but I'll be staying late. If you come by about five minutes prior to closing I can help you find the right size and you can take as long as you want."

"I guess that would be okay, see you then." As I turned to leave I noticed the fingernails on Lydia's index fingers. They were longer than the rest and trimmed to a point. Odd-but I didn't think much more of it at that time.


The rest of the afternoon went quickly. I was actually looking forward to buying some sexy new lingerie. My daydreams were filled with the look of surprise on Russ's face when I appeared before him wearing the lavender bra and panty set.

At five minutes until six I was back in the lingerie department. Everything was as it was at noon except for a feeling of closing time. A voice rang out over the loudspeaker saying that the store would be closing in five minutes.

Lydia remembered me from lunch. "How was the rest of your day, Monica?"

"Fine," I said, not noticing that she knew my name when I had never given it to her.

"You were interested in the lavender bra and panties, right? And you needed a 34-B, right?"

"Ah . . . right. 34B and a medium in the panties." I was taken a little off-guard that she remembered my size.

Lydia immediately went to the rack behind the display and shuffled through the lavender bra and panty sets. There were three rows of bras and when Lydia started on the second row and not having found my size in the first row, I knelt down and began looking through the third row. 34C, 34D, 32B, 36B-it seemed like they had every size but 34B! I was beginning to get frustrated, I was finally going to try on some flattering lingerie and they didn't have my size!

Then Lydia had an idea, "Let's see what size the mannequin has on."

"You don't have to do that. I don't want to cause you any trouble."

"No trouble at all." Lydia squeezed behind the first of the three identical mannequins, the one that was wearing the lavender bra and panties. This mannequin was different than a noon, she was wearing a silky kimono with a floral print and-different from lunch, she now had a head while the others were still headless. The head startled me. It had shoulder length brown hair just like mine and was very realistic. The mannequin very closely resembled me-it could have been my sister!

Lydia gently removed the kimono and then pulled at the back of the bra. In an instant she said, "34B-here we go." In a matter of seconds she had undone the bra and pulled it off while weaving the straps over her stiff arms.

"The dressing rooms are just behind the cash register. If you go and try on the bra, I'll bring the panties."

I took the bra and paused to ask Lydia a question. "Didn't this mannequin not have a head at lunch time?"

"Maybe, I really don't remember. The display department frequently comes and changes mannequins for one reason or another."

I somehow didn't buy Lydia's explanation. Everything else was exactly the same-her clothing, her pose, her size, even the color of her skin exactly matched the other two headless mannequins. It was just a little weird, but I didn't say anything else. Despite my curiosity being perked, I told myself that there really wasn't a logical explanation and that further inquiry would only serve to embarrass myself. I took the bra and went into the dressing room.

Once in the dressing room I took off my blouse and old bra. I took and moment to look into the mirror and critiqued by topless body. The overhead lights of the dressing room made the curves of my breasts look better than usual. "Russ is one lucky pediatrician," I whispered inaudibly.

I had just finished putting on the lavender bra when Lydia interrupted, "That looks great on you. Here are the panties in your size, I had to get them off the mannequin too. I also brought the kimono, there's an offer from the manufacturer that gives it to you for free if you buy both the bra and panties. I'll come back to see how you're doing in a minute."

Before putting on the panties, I took a moment to look in the mirror to see how the bra fit. Perfect was the only word I had for the fit. It felt great and it looked great. The cups fit my breast like they were custom made, not the slightest wrinkle or gap.

I took off my shoes, pants and panties and slipped on the lavender panties. They were perfect too. I stood for another moment and admired myself in the mirror. I couldn't remember a time in my life that I looked better. I not only looked sexy, I felt it. I was more than a little horny and couldn't wait to see Russ that evening. With that thought I turned around to get dressed and noticed that all my clothes were gone My blouse, skirt, bra, panties were all gone-even my pantyhose and shoes. And my PURSE, it was gone too! The only thing remaining was the kimono. I had been so preoccupied with myself in the mirror that I hadn't noticed someone taking all my belongings.

What had happened? Had I been robbed and left in a pair of underwear that wasn't even mine? Was this some kind of joke-maybe Cheryl talked Lydia into this? I was confused and a little scared. It was like a dream. I remember studying in my college psych class that most everyone occasionally has a dream were they are naked it a public place. It was happening to me and it wasn't a dream!

I was beginning to feel more than a little naked. I looked out over the dressing room door for a sign of Lydia-or some other person that could help me. The main store lights were dimmed and a grayish look permeated the store. They had closed! Had I been forgotten and locked inside? What happened to my clothes?

I noticed the kimono hanging on the dressing room hook. Almost without thinking, I reached up and put it on. It wasn't much but at least it covered more than a bra and panties. I slowly leaned out the dressing room door.

"Hello, is anyone there? Saleslady, are you there? I need you?" No one answered. Although I had never called her by name, I knew her name was Lydia from her nametag. I was getting desperate so I called out her name. "Lydia . . . Lydia . . . LYDIA!" Again no answer.

Wrapped tight in the kimono, I carefully ventured out into the store. Like a frightened cat, I was ready to dodge back to the dressing room or behind a display rack in a split second. I heard a faint humming ahead. As I continued to walk forward I realized it was coming from the main aisle by the three mannequins. The mannequins had their back to me and between their shoulders I got a glimpse of Lydia's face. She was dressing the mannequin that she had undressed for me.

At that very moment she looked up at me acting like nothing was even the slightest bit wrong said, "I've been waiting for you, those fit wonderful don't they?"

"What happened to my clothes. Someone took my clothes and I've been stuck in the dressing room. Thank God the store is closed or I couldn't even come out. Did you see anyone take my clothes?"

"You'll get used to being dressed like that in public," Lydia calmly replied.

At that moment I was shocked to notice the clothes she was putting on the mannequin. They were my clothes! The mannequin was wearing my pants and shoes. She also had on my blouse, it was unbuttoned and I could see that she was also wearing my old bra underneath. I pushed Lydia aside and came around to the front of the display and started to take my blouse off the mannequin.

I was angry and began yelling at Lydia. "I don't know what you think your doing, this is the craziest thing I've ever seen. I'm taking my clothes and getting the hell out of here. I'll be talking with your manager to . .mor..."

Suddenly I couldn't speak, or even move. I was standing with my right foot up on the pedestal with the three mannequins and the other foot on the ground. My hands frozen in a grip on my blouse. I had managed to get it down off the mannequins shoulders before being frozen in place. My head was frozen looking the mannequin in the face and my eyes couldn't move to see anything on my right or left. Any frustration and anger that I had, had turned into fear. "What was happening to me? Did Lydia do this to me? How? It wasn't logical."

Then I remembered Lydia's statement when I walked out in my underwear. She said that I would get used to being dressed like this in public. What did that mean? I remembered a Twilight Zone episode about a human being actually being a mannequin. But that was TV, this was real!

While I was standing frozen in time, Lydia moved the blouse out of my hands and put it back over the mannequin's shoulders. She then put her hands around my waist and moved me back a few feet. I remained balanced with my right foot was still on the pedestal, although I did rock back and forth a little while Lydia balanced my stiff body. I was still looking right into the mannequin's face and was astonished at how real she looked, much more lifelike than she had looked a few minutes ago when I first saw her. She looked as if she would step down and walk away any minute.

After buttoning up the blouse and tucking it in, Lydia returned to me. Standing between me and the mannequin, she looked me in the face and reached up under my hair and took off my earrings. She also took off my glasses. Next she reached behind my neck and took off my necklace. The only other clothing or accessory that I wore into the store was my watch and a ring on my right ring finger. She took them too.

Lydia then proceeded to put these items on the mannequin. Maybe it was just the accessories-you usually don't see mannequins wearing watches, rings, glasses and earrings-but this mannequin looked real. You could see freckles on her skin and see more detail in her face.

Lydia then moved behind the mannequin and, gripping her waist, lifted her off her stand, and moved her down to the main floor and away from my sight. Lydia then stepped in front of me, looked me in the eye and began to speak. "Well, Monica, I guess I owe you an explanation. This will be difficult for you to believe or comprehend at this point in time, but you will begin to understand."

"Let me introduce you to Jill," Lydia motioned to the mannequin now wearing my clothes. "Jill used to be a real woman just like you. She worked as a flight attendant-until she came in one day to buy a new bathing suit for a trip to Hawaii. She hasn't made it to Hawaii yet. We didn't have her size in the rack and found her size on the mannequin. The bathing suit on the mannequin fit her perfectly-better than anything had fit her at anytime in her life. This perfect fit allowed me to have Jill trade places with the mannequin and let her live out her life in the real world. That was three years ago. Now it's your turn."

While Lydia continued to explain, my mind raced. What do you mean it's my turn? This is nuts, I really must be dreaming. But it does seem so real. Then some of Lydia's words began to catch up with me. The "perfect fit" she mentioned was exactly what I had experienced with the bra and panties. Then the horrifying thought hit me, was Jill going to somehow become real again and I would take her place and become a MANNEQUIN??!!

Lydia continued. "Just last week, I began to feel that Jill was ready to leave. I can't quite explain how I felt it, but I did. At that point I dressed her in the bra and panty set that you are now wearing. It has been our best seller and would increase the opportunity for someone to try hers on. I also took all other sets in your size off the racks and stored them in back. That way anyone needing that size would have to take the one on the mannequin. If the woman's natural beauty or body proportions weren't right, I'd get her size from the back rather than taking the one on display. Once you take the clothing from the mannequin and wear it, I have the power to make you into a mannequin in place of the one you took clothes from."

My thoughts raced on. So you are serious, you're going to make me into a mannequin! I guess she already had to some extent. I had been in this same position for a good ten minutes and I couldn't move a muscle, not even blink an eye. I couldn't feel myself breathing and I didn't seem to feel and tiredness or pain from being frozen in this awkward position. I could see just fine, but I couldn't move my eyes.

I had a mixture of thoughts. What would it feel like to be a mannequin? Would it be boring? Exiting? I had always been self conscious about my looks and the thought of being displayed in my underwear horrified me. Passerby's would be staring at me. Hundreds of men could freely gawk at my body. On the other hand, Lydia wouldn't have picked me if I didn't have the right looks and proportions. I remembered the article in the paper about the lingerie model. Being chosen was flattering in a weird sort of way.

Lydia came close and looked me in the eye. "Monica, I am going to let you move again. You probably have a number of questions for me. Most of those questions will be answered once you are a mannequin or later. I've found that it works better for me not to answer any questions now. I need you to cooperate with me and do what I ask you to. I can make this a much worse experience for you if you choose to fight.

In the next instant, I could move again! I was so startled by being able to move that I almost fell forward. Lydia caught me by the arm and looked into my eyes. "Are you with me?"

What else could I do? "I guess I'll cooperate, what choice do I have." I tried to hold back the tears. Lydia seemed nice, but I couldn't help but feel animosity for someone who did this to me against my will. I didn't want to give her the satisfaction of seeing me cry.

"You might find this to me a pleasant experience and want to stay longer. Many before Jill are still here, they've decided to stay on. The choice was theirs. At some point someone with your exact measurements will need a clothing item in the size you are wearing on display. At that point I will give you the opportunity to leave, if you wish. That day could be next weeks or five years from now. I usually try to keep the shelves well-stocked with your size until I think you are ready to go. But you never know, Jill came in only a few months after her predecessor had come to us. It was a busy day and I just couldn't keep the floor stocked with the bathing suit she was wearing."

I looked at Jill, the mannequin wearing my clothes. This was odd. Jill now looked more real than she did just a few minutes ago. "She's starting to become real again. Look at the texture of her face." Lydia was right, when I looked closely into her face, I could see the lines and pores of real skin, not the smoothness of a mannequin.

"She is just about ready to move again. The change actually started happening the moment you put on the bra that she was wearing. The reverse is happening to you.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Look at your arms and hands."

I looked down at my arms and hands. I was shocked! There was no longer any hair at all on my arms or hands. My once soft skin was now harder and faint or almost white in color. Just above my wrist I could see a faint line on each arm.

"The line about your wrists that you see, will gradually get darker and eventually become the point in which we can remove your hands to dress and undress you."

Was I really becoming a - a - a mannequin?? I could hardly bear to say the word. What would it be like? Would I feel pain? I looked down over the rest of my body. The same thing that happened to my arms had happened all over my body-no hair, pale hard skin. The same lines around my wrists were also around each shoulder through my armpits and the very top of my right leg. "Why is the line only around one leg?"

"We only need to remove one of your legs to get you into most outfits. Your arms will probably be removed the most. Look underneath your panties."

I slowly lifted the front of my panties and looked inside. There was another line that went around my hips just above my crotch. The lines were becoming more defined and I was starting to imagine what it would be like to have your body parts removed. Wouldn't THAT hurt?! I also noticed that I no longer had any pubic hair. I ran my hand down over my crotch and around to my rear end. I no longer had any body openings-I was smooth.

As I tried to walk over to Lydia, I noticed that my body was very stiff. It was becoming difficult to move. Lydia looked at me with a reassuring smile. "You are ready to go into position." She took my hand and led me up onto the platform. Jill had been positioned on a display stand with a glass base. A gray rod came up from the bottom of the base. Lydia guided my right hand to a notch that had formed in the back of my leg. She helped me lift my leg up and the rod slid an inch or so into the notch and therefore into my leg. "The stand will help hold you upright and keep you upright."

It was getting more difficult to move with each passing second. Lydia stood on the platform and began to gently move my body into position. She started with my legs-using a yardstick to make sure they were exactly the same distance apart as the other two mannequins. She then moved behind me and arched my shoulders up and back. This movement accentuated my breasts. At this point I was starting to accept my predicament and wanted to look my best. Lydia then moved her hand to my nipples and began to gently rub them. "We need to have your nipples firm so that they show underneath the fashion," Lydia reported. Sure enough, within a few moments I could feel that they were very erect. The feeling was different and wonderful all at the same time. I felt so . . so . . sexy!?

I was surprised by my feelings. Here I was being turned into a department store mannequin, wearing skimpy lingerie for all the world to see and all this against my will. For all I knew, this process might kill me! But for some reason, I felt more beautiful, sexy and turned-on than ever before. I was wishing that Lydia would use her gentle touch on other parts of my body. I couldn't believe how horny I had become.

After positioning my body to her liking, Lydia moved my arms back behind my back to match the "parade rest" position of the other mannequins. I was ready for Lydia to work next on my face to complete my mannequin pose. Instead she stepped back off the platform and said, "you look wonderful Monica, you make an excellent addition to our mannequin inventory." Then Lydia turned around and walked behind me back toward the dressing rooms.

The store had totally closed at this time and the overhead lights were dimmed. Although I could think clearly and see straight ahead, I couldn't move a muscle. I was totally frozen in position. I really was a mannequin, a store fixture, a dummy on display. Many thoughts ran through my mind. I had thoughts of future loneliness, but I didn't fear dying. I somehow knew that this state would last and I wasn't going to die. I had changed-I was no longer a living woman, I was really a mannequin! And to top it off, it wasn't all that bad. I looked just past the escalator and noticed my reflection in a mirror. I was beautiful.

After a few minutes Lydia came back and stood in front of me. She had a brown file storage box in her hands. On the box was a label that read "Monica Fisher" and was followed by the date. Then, standing in front of me, Lydia reached behind my neck. She moved her hands up under my hair to the base of my skull. I could feel the sharp nails on her index fingers. Using her sharp fingernails she moved her fingers from that point around the top of my neck to the front of my neck just under my chin. The sharpness of her nails hurt a little bit but not much. She then pulled her hands away and paused to look me in the face. I wanted so bad to ask her what she was doing, but I was no longer capable of movement. Lydia then put her hands over my ears and gently lifted my head off my body.

I couldn't believe what just happened. So this was why Lydia didn't do anything to my face! And this was why Lydia had the sharp fingernails. Now I was headless just like the other two mannequins. But then I noticed something unusual (not really surprising in such an unusual day!). I watched as Lydia took my head and carefully wrapped it in a soft cloth and packed it in the box. I'll never forget the blank empty look on my face.

Then if occurred to me--My God, I could see what she was doing! Even though the process was gentle and easy, I had nevertheless been decapitated. But in this condition, I could still see like my head was still attached to my body. I started preparing for my body to black out and die, but things remained the same. Nothing had changed-I was still a mannequin, I was just didn't have a head. I could now see in the mirror that I perfectly matched the other two mannequins.

With the box in hand, Lydia spoke to my headless form, "Let me put this away, I'll be back." She then walked away, leaving me to my motionless predicament. I wanted to yell at her to be careful with that box, to put it in a safe place. But the words couldn't come.

While I was waiting for Lydia to come back, I realized that the mannequin named Jill that was wearing my clothes was still standing out in the main shopping aisle. I could barely see her in my periphery vision. She was still wearing my clothes and I was wondering when she would come back to life. I did notice that she looked more lifelike than ever. She looked like a real person that was posing like a mannequin and not an actual mannequin at all.

After a few minutes, Lydia came back into my vision. I could see her profile directly in front of me as she put her arms on Jill's shoulders. "Its okay, you are able to move again." Lydia moved Jill's arms from behind her back and began massaging her hands. Jill's hands began to flex and move. Her head moved as she looked down at her hands as they were undoubtedly back to life for the first time in a while.

After about ten minutes of slowly regaining movement, Jill walked over and stood on the platform looking directly at me. I stood in frozen silence as she began speak slowly at first, "Th-a-n-k y-o-u. I don't know your name but I really appreciate you taking my place so that I can live again."

"Her name is Monica Fisher, she's an accountant with Smith, Bailey and Klein, the accounting firm in the building next door," Lydia responded with my name since I was unable to speak for myself. "She is single with an apartment on Queen Anne Hill. She is dating a pediatrician named Russ. I think you'll find her life a good fit for you. The keys are in her purse."

My life a good fit for her? What was she talking about? How does she know those details of my life? The keys are in her purse?

Jill turned to leave and then stopped and came back to me. "I know what you're going through. I've been there. Right now you're probably feeling confused and even victimized. After a while you'll get used to being a mannequin. Its really not so bad, you might even learn to enjoy it."

I was frustrated that Jill didn't make eye contact with me. Then I realized that she couldn't see my eyes, they were with my head. Instead she looked at the area around my neck and my chest.

Jill continued, "Lydia tells me that my role is to be your sister. I'll live in your apartment and tell your boss you had to abruptly leave due to a family crisis. My training is in accounting too, so I'll take over your job and your apartment. I might even see what Russ is like."

You must be evil! How can you do this to me? Even though I'm not dead, you're still taking my life.

"I know it doesn't seem fair. It happened to me too. I was having fun as a flight attendant and was just getting my life together. I was dating a really neat guy and we had planned a trip to Hawaii together. Then I came into this store to buy a new bathing suit for the trip and met Lydia. The next thing I knew I didn't have a head and I was modeling this bathing suit seven days a week, twenty four hours a day! And Jan-the girl whose place I took-would regularly walk by and see what I was doing. She was sadistic, she would whisper in my ear about life in world of real people. She even came by once with my boyfriend in tow. One time she was eating a candy bar and put the wrapper in my cleavage! I was pissed, it was two days before anyone noticed and I couldn't do a thing about it."

"After you left this afternoon, Lydia whispered to me that you would probably be the one and asked if I wanted to go or stay. Well, you know what I said. I'm really sorry to do this to you. Lydia's very nice, she'll take care of you. I'll stop by and see you every now and then but I'll try not to flaunt my realness. Maybe you'll get luck and someone will buy your outfit quickly."

With that said Jill stepped up on the platform and gave me a hug. She moved my body and caused me to wobble a bit on my stand. "Be a good mannequin. Bye." She walked away toward the front door.


Lydia then walked over to me. "I guess you know how it works. If someone buys your clothes, they'll take your place. Otherwise, I'll give you the opportunity to go in a couple of years. Also, I should say I'm sorry for taking your head. I can't afford to have anyone recognize you, that would be tragic. After a year or so, I'll put it back on and reassign you to another department, unless you want to stay here in lingerie. Also keep in mind that the other two girls next to you, and all the mannequins in the entire store, are just like you. They were once real. Oh by the way," Lydia paused, "The kimono was only for your initial comfort, you don't need it know. And besides are margins are better on this bra and panty set." With that she reached up and abruptly took off my kimono. The comment about margins brought to mind this department stores reputation for being very profitable.

Lydia walked away and when she turned off the lights in the dressing room, the store became even darker and very quiet. Am I really a mannequin? Am I really standing in the middle of the lingerie section in a bra and panties? Am I really headless? As the evening went on the answer to those questions was a resounding yes. This was true.

After about a week as a mannequin, I had accepted and even learned to enjoy my new role in life. Along with the other two girls, I had this beautiful sexy body that made women envious and men turn their heads. As a mannequin, I eventually learned to go into a sleepy state at night and even part of the day. This helped time pass and helped me to have my only real entertainment-watching people. Men would walk by and casually look at me out of the corner of their eye. It was quite humorous. Children were the most honest. "Those ladies don't have heads," said many a youngster, "Why are they in their underwear?" Occasionally someone would stop and look at me, but most people pretended I didn't even exist. I truly was no longer "real."

As Jill suggested, Lydia took good care of me. She made sure I was dusted and looked my best. She talked to me and the others while she changed us and sometimes stayed late at night. Even though I couldn't talk back, the interaction she gave was wonderful.

I remember the first time Lydia changed my clothes. It hadn't even occurred to me that this inevitable thing would happen. The store had just opened and only a few people had made it up to our floor, let alone the lingerie department. Lydia came stood before the three of us and said, "It's time to change you guys, this month we're featuring sports bras." I was waking up and before I knew it Lydia had removed my arms. I had forgotten the lines on my wrists and shoulders that Lydia had said would enable her to remove my body parts, so this was a bit of a surprise.

"In this department I can usually change you without taking off your arms, but these sports bras pull on over the head and don't fasten like other bras." First she removed our bras. Next Lydia pulled down our panties and lifted each leg a few inches off the platform to completely remove them. Now for the first time as a mannequin, I was completely nude. My first reaction was to hide my body, something that I obviously couldn't do. I could feel my hard nipples out in the open for the world to see and, for the first time, I was a little relieved to not have a head.

About as quickly as Lydia removed our panties, she slid on a pair of shorts. In the mirror I could see that this wasn't underwear. It was a pair of shorts that you might wear to go running or exercise. My shorts were a red while the others wore black and yellow. Lydia then slipped sports bras on the other two girls.

As she was starting to put on my sports bra, she was interrupted by a customer. At that point a number of customer paraded through the department. The entire time I stood topless while the other two were at least covered. When Lydia finally came back she slipped the sports bra in a matter of seconds. The process was simplified since I didn't have arms nor a head. Lydia then reattached our arms and spent some time adjusting our new outfits to make sure they fit the best. "You need a little something more," Lydia said. "I'll be back in a minute."

Lydia reappeared sometime later with three towels in three different colors matching our running shorts. She rolled up the towel and placed one around each of our necks. She took down the banner from behind us and put a new one in its place. In the mirror I could see that it said "Getting Into Shape for Summer." She made some final adjustments to our display and then left us alone.

Another time the three of us were wearing a new line of bras designed to accentuate our cleavage. I could feel the tight bra trying to push my breasts in and up. (Of course this was to no avail, my breasts were as hard as a rock). Lydia came in behind us looking and check the size of the bra the middle mannequin was wearing. "Here it is, 34-B in black," Lydia stated. She then stripped the middle girl of her bra and gave it to the woman to try on. The woman turned out to be Cheryl! I wanted to grab her and hug her, but of course I couldn't move. Then I realized that Cheryl would be joining me in this "job" too.


After a long period (probably about two years) in the lingerie department, Lydia undressed me and took me to a new department. The new department looked to be women's career wear. Lydia took me entirely apart. The top half of my body sat on the floor as I watched Lydia put pantyhose, a gray plaid skirt and shoes on my bottom half. She then attached my upper torso to the bottom half and dressed me in a nice chiffon blouse and finished me off with a navy blazer. By the time she put my arms back on the store was closed.

After being away for a few minutes she returned with the box labeled-"Monica Fisher." Right away I knew this was the box that carried my head. I was exited. What would it be like to have a head again? Lydia carefully set my head on my stump of a neck and gently rubbed it smoothly into place. I was whole again!

Lydia then spoke to me. "You've done a very good job for us. I hope you've enjoyed it."

I wasn't sure I enjoyed it that much, but it really wasn't that bad. I did feel attractive and sexy. I liked that!

"My plan is to leave you here in this department for a while, at least a year. At that point you'll be ready to be real again if you choose. But let me give you an alternative to think about over the next year. The advantage of staying here is that, as long as you stay inside this department store, you'll never age. You can choose to be real again and leave the store, but you will age. Once you leave us to become real again you can't change your mind and come back. Some, like Jill before you, actually would have liked to return, but that can't happen. Your alternative is to choose to remain as a mannequin with us. Many have decided to stay.

For those who decide to stay, I can release you at night to work in our store. Those that work in the store do accounting, display work and many other jobs. Their night work helps us to have the lowest staffing levels in the industry and also the highest profit. The work gives them the chance to interact with each other and do something useful. We try to make it worth their while. Oh, by the way, there is time for relaxation and even sex!

The decision will be yours and you have a year to think it over. I'll talk to you then."

Lydia left me in the darkness of the empty store.

The decision was mine. What would I do? Eternal beauty is a powerful lure.

You might someday have the opportunity to make the same decision if you, like me, buy the clothes off the mannequin.