The woman shrugged. "I guess I'll find out."
Maddy and the chauffeur were almost at the front of the line. Maddy shuffled into a room which was divided into sections by long white curtains suspended from the ceiling. The room was for the most part quiet, except for people shuffling and murmuring to each other, but each time Maddy got close to a curtain she heard gasps and moans leaking through the gap between the curtains and the floor. A little whimper would escape from underneath the curtain, followed by silence, and then a voice would say, "Next group..."
Maddy heard hammering coming from another curtained-off section of the room, but before she could look inside she, the woman, and three others were ushered into a curtained-off room with five swivel chairs. The room looked like a small salon, with mirrors and lights, but the chairs spread their legs apart and had restraints for people's ankles and wrists.
"They're just a precaution to keep you from slipping: don't read into it too much," said the lab-coated assistant. He wrote a number on a tag and tied it around her wrist.
"What's that—"
"ID tag: makes sure we know who you are. Sit down."
In a gentle and business-like manner, he forced Maddy into a chair, and by the time he strapped her in the other chauffeur was already getting injected with a long needle. Assistants shot a fluorescent pink goo into the chauffeur's arm until a bright pink welt developed on her bicep. Gradually that welt grew bigger, and wider, until her whole upper arm was covered in it.
"It's all rubbery," the chauffeur giggled. She jiggled her arm and showed it to Maddy; it still wiggled like real flesh, except the color was off.
Maddy then noticed something about people that she had never noticed before. It took the spectacle of this trait disappearing in front of Maddy's eyes for the obvious to sink in. People's skin wasn't just one solid color. From far away people looked black, white, or olive, but when viewed up close there were little blemishes and discolorations. The chauffeur's hand was white, but the skin over her knuckles was red, and so were the little pimples and clogged pores on her fingers. Her palms were pink and the little hairs on her forearm were gold with brown moles underneath, but as the formula spread through her body her hair fell out, her moles dissolved like brown sugar in vinegar, and the dry, wrinkled knuckles smoothed out like white chocolate. As the technicians brushed away the useless hair the woman's entire arm turned to a solid color: peach. The skin didn't shine like rubber, and it didn't bend like a hose, but just the sight of that one color steamrolling every other shade made Maddy tense up like a frightened rabbit.
"I can't move it anymore," the chauffeur said. Her fingers still clutched the arm of the chair, and her elbow was cocked like she was ready to push herself off the chair, but nothing moved. The inhuman peachy color was spreading to her chest. Her breathing grew faster. She squirmed, but her arm stuck where it was like an anchor. The rest of her body started to turn, the peach coloring soaking through every limb and muscle.
"I can feel it...it's so...incredible."
Her feet stopped shifting and her legs stopped shaking. With every second that passed her body grew more still, all movement ceasing except for her heaving chest. The paper gown rose and fell, falling a little more and rising a little less with every breath. The chauffeur's eyes darted about the room, wide with surprise, a smile spreading across her transforming face.
Maddy was so distracted that she didn't even notice the needle poking into her own arm until it was too late. "Hey!"
"Trust me, this way's easier," said the assistant. "See you in five years!"
"You guys," said the chauffeur. "This is amazing. You note...moat...know, don't mow...this feels..." Her face was getting stiff; her mouth was turning to rubber.
The chauffeur's face was all peach, a dull sheen spreading over her cheeks. As the invading color spread over her scalp and nostrils, conquering every square in of her head, her smile slowly faded. She tried to speak but her lips could barely move, drawing together until her mouth grew small. All that the chauffeur could do was form her lips into a full, luscious pout that kept trying to speak, opening and closing it like a goldfish. "Mup...mup...mmph...mmph!" Her eyes glazed over and all emotion evaporated. Doll-like and with glassy eyes, the chauffeur stared into space, her lips solidifying into a soft, perfect "o".
The chauffeur's chest was still rising, slowly and laboriously. Maddy watched it, but was soon distracted by her own changes; a creamy pink color ran down her arm to her fingers until they went numb.
'No, they're not numb,' Maddy realized. 'They just won't move!' She watched her entire hand, nails an all, turn a pale pink, and then her fingertips stopped twitching. Each time she tried to squirm out of her restraints, her fingers couldn't bend, and soon her toes wouldn't move either. Maddy's wrists wouldn't move, her ankles were frozen. Suddenly, when she remembered to look at the chauffeur again, Maddy noticed that her breathing had stopped. Her chest was still: not even a heartbeat moved that inanimate, rubberized chest.
Maddy tried to scream, but it felt like trying to burp with no gas in her stomach. She and the other girls struggled as much as their freezing limbs would allow them, but never raised their voices. They only grew quieter, moaning and whimpering as their bodies froze up.
What Maddy realized, however, was that she wasn't sad or afraid. Maddy felt restless, as if the fact that she wouldn't move again made her want to move all the more. Her limbs fluttered like wet butterfly wings for a few minutes, moving for the last time, freezing in their position and staying that way no matter how hard Maddy tried to move them.
Her face transformed: not numb, but slowing down. Her nipples changed, rubbing up against her paper gown, permanently erect. Her pussy turned to rubber, swollen with excitement and tingling as the air drifted up her gown. Maddy felt her womb shut down and melt away into the rest of her flesh. She was solid like a statue but soft as pudding.
'I'm changing, she thought. 'It's like everything else is shutting down and disappearing. I'm not hungry, I'm not thirsty. I just feel everything that touches me.'
The chair, once sticky and awkward, was now her throne, cradling her like a queen. Maddy felt cold as her body heat drifted out of her, never to return. Someone from the lab picked her up, a strong man with warm, hairy hands. His body heat leached through his clothes and soaked into Maddy's rubbery body. The man threw her over their shoulder like she was nothing but a sack of potatoes.
He straightened her knees, and put her arms flat against her sides. He could touch Maddy whenever and however he wanted, tearing off her paper gown, exposing her soft, heavy breasts and wide-open crotch. The workman stuffed her into a wooden crate and reached for the lid.
"No," Maddy whispered. "Wait..."
"This one's still talking," the man grumbled.
Maddy pleaded, "Please...don't..."
The foreman walked over and listened. "Wait until her mouth freezes, then seal her up."
"Freeze?" It took her ten seconds to say the word. She tried her hardest to keep her eyes focused on the man standing above her. "No..."she cried. "No..."
The workman looked down at his watch, Maddy's speech growing fainter and fainter until her tongue, turning to a strip of rubber, grew still. Her lips made that perfect "o" shape everyone else did, and her eyes stared straight ahead.
Maddy was a doll, and the last thing she saw was her hard-hatted workman sending his wife a text before he nailed her crate shut.
