Quinn Leslie woke up in a good mood that day. To her mind, she was in the prime of her life at the age of 27, and it was a beautiful, sunny day— a day she also had off from work. Plenty of reason to be in a good mood. She was ready for an adventure today.The past few years, she hadn’t done much beside working— she’d rarely ever ventured out of her apartment for any reason, other than to go to work, or to run errands.  She was trying something new today— she’d seen flyers up around town for a big technology expo in the exhibition center of her town— and unlike past occasions, where she had ignored any and all events in favor of staying home, or working overtime, today she was going to go.  She had no shame, either, in the fact that she would be going by herself. She’d been looking forward to today, ever since she’d made her mind up to go to the technology expo, and nothing could ruin those feelings for her. She just had to make sure she quickly got ready. First, Quinn stepped in front of her standing mirror, which was kitty corner from her bed— and assessed her hair situation. The curly blonde tresses which hung to her shoulders were what needed assessing— the curls were quite predisposed to tangling, and today as usual, they were a mess. She reached for her brush, to brush them out.  It was the work of a few minutes to return her curling hair to a semblance of order— but Quinn was satisfied at having done it, because it represented the bulk of the work she would need to do in order to prepare herself. She set her brush down, and considered her face. Her eyes were a bit small, and most of the structural lines in her, there and elsewhere on her body, were a bit wispy and indistinct— her cheeks had some light freckling in patches here and there. She turned to consider her body in the gray nightgown she was wearing— like the lines in her physical structure, the distribution of assets to her body was slight and easy to overlook. Her breasts were only A-cups, and even so she basically had to wear half-moon cup bras, because she just couldn’t fill out a full cup at the A size— her hips were similarly slender— and her legs and arms both were somewhat stickwidth.  She took her nightgown off, and put on a bra and some underwear first, both made of t-shirt material, and a faint blue color. Then she put on a blue sleeveless top, which was more of a teal in color, and followed it with a brown-orange woven skirt that had a band of purple parallel to the hem, just for color. It was a sunny day, so she could dress like it was summer. She finished with a pair of brown sandals, and was ready to go. A quick exit from her apartment building and a bus ride later, and Quinn had arrived outside the expo building; a large banner was hanging along the roof announcing the tech expo taking place today, tomorrow and the day after.  But tomorrow and the day after, Quinn would be back to work; so she was glad that she had carved the time out to come today, while she was still available. She’d let herself sleep in, so now it was only about ten o’clock— the doors to the expo had opened at eight am, and the expo would continue operating all day until about five pm, so there was no rush. She could really take her time, attending multiple demonstrations; seeing if there were any samples available for purchase, or items available to take that were still in their beta-testing phase. If she had come at eight am, too, there likely would have been long lines, and a delay before getting inside. But now that the expo was running and had been doing so for two hours, there were no lines out the door at all.  Quinn looked up at the building itself. It looked a bit like a stadium, with a domed roof, and mostly concrete forming its structure— but it was probably only three-stories tall. There were small groups of people here and there— some entering the expo building, some exiting it, but it was as easy as anything to walk directly towards the entrance and pass inside. Inside, the ceilings were very high, just as one might have expected from a stadium-shaped thing, even if the building was only the size of a small stadium. Quinn couldn’t think of a time she’d ever been into the expo building before— but she appreciated that there were no rooms wrapping around a center— stepping through the exterior doors took her right into the expo, and then she was walking around, marveling at what she was seeing. There were electrical displays, where different rays of electricity danced and intersected with each other— there were everyday products that operated themselves to the full extent a human could have; there were things that looked like they were well on their way to being fully sentient human androids; there were pills that boasted themselves as miraclecures— and when sick people came up to sample them, those people were healed. Quinn never stopped walking in front of any one kiosk long enough to listen to full spiels, or to try any samples. She wanted to get around the entire exhibition floor before she made any decisions; her eyes were still wide-eyed in wonder at each new technological marvel she saw; she didn’t want to slow down. She enjoyed the vibe of the entire place; each kiosk was under a small tent, or in a glass booth; somehow, the tents looked futuristic, looking to be woven of a fabric only discovered recently, and so did the glass, it having been pressed into various geometric forms. She had made it all the way along one wall, to the first corner of the room, and down another, and it was just as she was reaching the second corner (with still the other two to go, so much exciting possibility!) that something interrupted her reverie of enjoyment. “You!”  Quinn’s eyes searched to identify the sound.   She’d overlooked it, but there was a booth directly in the corner— and really directly in the corner, it had been pushed right to the wall, and was built in a cornershape, half going along one wall, the other half going along the other. It fit perfectly. Her eyes were still scanning— there was a man standing in front of it, but he had been easy to overlook, because he had been wearing dark clothing, and the booth behind him was that catching geometric glass which seemed to draw the eye. Quinn made eyecontact with the man now, and rested her hand to her sternum, indicating herself, silently asking, Me? The man nodded emphatically. “Yes, you. Come over here!” Quinn approached, leaving the regular traffic of expoattenders to step aside to where the man was. “How would you like to test our new equipment?” Quinn frowned. “What does it do?” “It regulates relaxation in the body,” — the man’s answer.  There was no banner above the kiosk which named the organization or the product, which struck Quinn as a little weird. But— she hadn’t tested anything yet, and he had called specifically to her. She was having a fun day, and for now she just wanted to stay in the flow of that fun, and go where it carried her. “Alright,” she said, with a throwing up of her hands. “What do you want me to do?” “Just hold out your hand for me,” the man said. “This whole thing gives you a chance to experience the wonder of our technology, but it also doubles as a demonstration for anyone who passes by our booth.” The man looked past her just as he said this, leaning to look around at, presumably, a small group of people that was walking past. He flashed them a very bright smile. Quinn didn’t turn to look at the people herself. She was sampling the tech— and demonstrating it— she wanted to be part of that, a participant, not someone watching after onlookers, onlooking them. She held out her hand. The man produced a jar with a screwed-in dropper— which he unscrewed, and held over the back of her hand— she had extended it palmfacedown, and he had not objected. He squeezed the squeeze end, once, twice, thrice— three magenta drops which looked— plastic-y, somehow— came out of the end, and landed on her hand. “How does it work?” Quinn asked on instinct— but she was already seeing— those three drops landed, but didn’t stay put. She felt her skin like it was a thin membrane— she could feel those drops passing through it unimpeded, getting inside of her. It was a weird feeling, once the droplets were inside— they’d really disappeared from the surface— there wasn’t even a trace of that magenta color left staining Quinn’s hand. And she could feel them inside her hand— then inside her arm, because they were moving; like three peasized drops of plastic which she could feel brushing against things inside her— there wasn’t supposed to be internal sensation like that— things inside weren’t supposed to be touched; but she could feel them when they brushed bone, when they brushed muscle and tendon, and each accidental touch made Quinn jump like she’d been jolted because, even if she knew logically to expect it, her body was not accustomed to feeling foreign objects move around inside, wasn’t used to having foreign objects bump into her inner framework. And— was that— it felt like each of those plastic peas were splitting— they were doubling themselves— then doubling again; they had gone in her right arm, and her arm was starting to feel like it was being weighed down by marbles— they were doubling almost too fast to keep track of, and her shoulder was getting sore from the weight of her right arm— hanging down, it was like all those marbles were stacked in a tower— from her fingers to her shouldersocket— and in her fingers, she could see those bubbles of round marble popping her skin— on the whole, her entire right arm was looking patchy and knobbly from all those tiny spheres. Her eyes were confirming what she could feel internally. She looked back at the man, using her free arm to hold the other one up. It didn’t seem like she could really move it normally anymore.  “How did you say this thing works?” Quinn asked uncertainly. She was starting to wonder if she’d been foolish, volunteering for something she knew nothing about. A small crowd was starting to gather around her. The man smiled. “I didn’t, but it interfaces with your nervous system to regulate your levels of serenity.” Quinn frowned. “I don’t… I don’t think I want to continue with this demonstration.” The man was still smiling. “It’s too late.” Those marbles were doing something else. It felt like each one was bubbling— but not to multiply anymore. They were pulsing— throbbing— then; as if each one was a berry, they burst from the center outward, whatever inside of them being crushed free— and she could feel each one gushing, all the weight relieving— her arm looked normal— and then she could feel it; that same plastic-y feeling, but now it was all liquid— she could picture it magenta in her mind’s eye— it was running alongside her blood— and now it was getting everywhere in her— it was in both her arms, in both her legs, in her butt, in her chest— in every part of her body; and then it stopped moving, sitting everywhere it had gotten to. Then she felt it budding up into marbles again. It seemed some of it was in her brain— she could feel that plastic-y fluid there, encasing her brain, and when it budded up marbled again, she felt those marbles indenting into her brainfolds— was she thinking about all of this the right way? It was sort of satisfying, feeling all those little rounds in her— massaging things that had never been massaged before. There was added weight coming into her chest with the movement of the fluid— when the marbles formed, they pushed up and out— pushing her to a full A-cup; no more halfmoon-cups for her— pushing her to a B— to a C— her skin was all knobbly and uneven, but it seemed to be burning now— burning through the clothes that she had been wearing, leaving her naked. She could feel the fluid expanding up and out elsewhere; in her hips, making them shapelier; in her ass, making it rounder; and everywhere else, making her body fuller; no one could ever say she was sticksized again, or wirey, not if she kept the dimensions and proportions of this frame; she could feel that budding in her brain; and when the marbles rolled around up there, rolling up and down soft folds; she felt better and better about this whole thing. She was glad to be standing here, naked and on display; she liked the way her body felt when there was more substance to it— and she could feel all the marbles throbbing like berries again. It was making her whole body shake— all of her skin was rippling; and then she felt all those rounded marble-shapes bursting open and gushing in her; the fluid was loose in her again, but this time, when everything burst, the external form of her body stayed the same— she was a C-cup, she was more filled-in, with shapelier hips, and a rounded ass; and still naked; everyone in the crowd that had gathered around her gasped and ahhed as though very impressed; the man was now standing, holding both his hands out to gesture to her, saying nothing but letting all that happened to her speak for itself. The liquid was moving again. Her skin had burned— now there seemed to be a strange pale magenta glow behind it— as if all of her was transparent and showing what was inside— and now the magenta was the only thing inside; the liquid was moving, passing through barriers— it was gathering in the channel of her pussy. She gasped, but she liked it there— it was quickly forming itself into the roughest, knobbliest dildo she’d ever felt, permanently embedded into backwall of her vagina; stabbing into her, penetrating her so deep; and just sitting there, with all of her permanently clenched tight around it; her nipples, now turning magenta, tensed as she felt that permanently-installed phallus fucking her, felt her body responding to it. She could only let out a guttural gasp— but this was right— all her inhibitions, gone. Now the man finally walked over to her; it felt like the fluid inside was dissolving, now that the phallus had formed— and the little cups that seemed to on reverse side of her nipples, that could tense and squeeze them from within— but when the fluid dissolved it passed through her skin again, and turned her magenta everywhere— even her curls too. The kioskmanager knocked her legs apart with his hands, and pushed her by the shoulders into more of a squat, then placed his fingers at the base of internal phallus, which was just shallowly present in her opening, and she gasped as it opened in the center, and he slid his fingers up it, like it was a sleeve. This of course made it expand widthwise and fuck her even harder. “This forms a tighter seal around any penis entering her— it’s become part of her body, so fucking her in this penis-encasing sleeve is the same as fucking her— it will just be that much tighter, and it will fuck her twiceover.” It was an overwhelming feeling, especially when the kioskmanager wiggled his fingers in the center of the thing; three fingers he had up it, and when they all moved, it made the phallus ripple and shift and swell in unbearable ways. The man withdrew his hand, and instinctively, Quinn knew to stand again; in her magentapink brain, turned the same color as the rest of her, it made so much sense. She preened herself. “That concludes our demonstration,” the man said, once again producing the jar with the dropper. “Three drops of this, and you’ll turn anyone you want into a living sexdoll. Of course, if you’d prefer not making one yourself— our fine specimen here is also for sale!” Again, she preened, looking out into the faces of the adults in the crowd who regarded her— wondering which one of them, if any, would own her— she would serve them, be fucked by them forever, and she was only impatient to be claimed. There were no thoughts in her head of going back to her old life— and no thoughts of leaving the expo today by herself. She would leave as someone’s possession— whoever chose her would be the right one to serve. No part of her was sad about this. She had lived 27 years as Quinn; but this was better than being a 27-year-old woman, now. She had achieved a kind of immortality; it didn’t feel to her as if she would further age or in anyway degraded; she would remain in her perfected 27-year-old form, servicing whoever owned her, and perhaps passing between different ownerships. But that kind of life of endless fucking and being fucked; it didn’t sound like drudgery to her, really. It sounded like something she was looking forward to. Like something she couldn’t wait to embark on. She only hoped she’d be chosen soon, so she could leave with her owner and start fucking right away.