The open door revealed a room full of statues of women, most of them nude, with all sort of features and figures. A good number look either happy or somber, though there are occasional instances of other emotions; anger, confusion, sadness, fear, desire, pleasure, pain, the list goes one. The materials are also varied; most are marble or brass, but there are many others made of different types of stone or metal, and a few made of less conventional materials, like wood, ice, glass, and even plastic.
You wonder to yourself what these statues are here for, as you walk between row after row of them. As if to answer you, you see the two women who had given you a massage standing beside an empty pedestal.
“Uh, hello,” you call in your still unfamiliar voice.
The two turn toward you and smile. “Ah, our new guest has awakened!” One of them says.
“Did you enjoy your rest? How is your new body treating you?” The other asks.
“Yes, the, uh, nap was helpful.” You nod. “I’m still getting used to my new figure and getting balanced, but, honestly, I love how I look and feel right now. I don’t think I’d ever want to give it up.” You bow slightly, your ample chest jiggling in a way that was still unfamiliar, but pleasant. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the first woman says, “I told you it would feel wonderful.”
“And now that your inner goddess has been awakened, we may move on to the second stage of the Special Treatment, whenever you feel comfortable. And I promise, it will feel every bit as wonderful as the first, if in a different way.”
“That does sound nice.” You nod and step closer. Even if it involves changing you further, the bliss of that first change, and the beautiful end result of it, makes you less afraid of the idea. “What is it? And, if you don’t mind my asking, what are all these statues for?”
“We can answer both those questions at once,” The second woman says. “We have awakened your inner goddess, but a true goddess is immortal, and an object of worship. And make you both of those at once, we will make an idol of you, as we have many of the other house goddesses around you.”
You take a step back, gasping as you look at the statues around you, realizing every one of them was a person at one point. Becoming a woman was one thing, but being turned into statue was not something you wanted any part of. Being a woman wasn’t inherently any better or worse for you than being a man, if you were given a chance to get used to it, but becoming immobile? Possibly just flat out effectively DYING? No thanks.
You shiver, and glance back at the two women, who slowly step toward you. Before you can react, each one grabs you by a different hand.
“Please, goddess-to-be,” the second woman says in a calming, sincere voice, “I can understand your worry, but like before, I simply ask that you trust us.”
“It is an experience you will never forget, nor regret,” the first one says. “Like your first change, this will be amazing, and you will never want to go back.”
Even though your rational mind is screaming for you to leave, some part of you feels that they aren’t lying to you. And although that other voice is small, it is powerful. You find yourself letting the two masseuses guide you over to the stone pedestal, where they help you step up. They motion for you to remove your robe, and you do so, still feeling a bit embarrassed even if they have already seen you naked.
“Thank you, dear,” the first woman says. “We could tell you deserved the special treatment.”
The two reach into a set of buckets beside you, and begin rubbing a gray cream over your body, starting at your feet, and moving slowly upward. Each area they cover begins to feel intensely relaxed, and yet, despite this, you are able to remain upright. Your legs feel nearly impossible to move, not because they feel harder yet, but simply because whatever they are rubbing on you makes you feel so comfortable that even trying to move would ruin it.
You involuntarily shiver a little as they cover your torso, but find yourself quickly relaxing even further as they finish, your breathing, and even your heartbeat seems to slow down, just a touch. And as your body is put at ease, your mind, no, your spirit, becomes more active. You begin to hear dozens of voices around you, coming from the idols.
“She’s coming along nicely,” and older sounding voice says.
“I wonder what sort of goddess she’ll be,” a child-like voice said.
“I’m sure you’ll be loved when your followers find you,” another voice says.
More voices can be heard welcoming you to the fold, or assuring you that everything will be fine. As your arms are coated in the strange cream, and almost your entire body is at ease, you feel as if your very concept of yourself is… becoming more, somehow. As if the universe itself is making you a small part of it, but you can’t tell quite how, just yet.
“We’re almost there,” one of the masseuses tells you. “Surely you feel it calling out to you? A new name, one far more befitting the new life awaiting you? If you hear it, then say it!”
You take a deep breath. “I am…”