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one wrong wish
One Wrong Wish
by Baubleheadz
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© 2006 - Baubleheadz - Used by permission
Storycodes: Solo-M; estate-sale; discovery; hierloom; stone; wish; majick; other/m; transform; M2f; bodymod; mannequin; latex; sexdoll; mindcontrol; cond; objectify; stuck; auction; cons; X
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One Wrong Wish by Baubleheadz Solo-M; estate-sale; discovery; hierloom; stone; wish; majick; other/m; transform; M2f; bodymod; mannequin; latex; sexdoll; mindcontrol; cond; objectify; stuck; auction; cons; X

Author's note: I would just like to say a couple things:
1) PLEASE write me if you like my stories... it’s #1 the drive behind my writing.
2) This story is winded to start, but If you like accidental (magical) dollification you might like this story, if you do like it refer to Author’s note #1!
3) There will not be a sequel. As a rule I don’ normally post my stories until they are finished, even if they are multi part.

One Wrong Wish:

This is the story of one wrong wish. It’s amazing what can happen when you mess with powers you just don’t understand.

My Grandfather had passed away a couple months ago, and after 100s of hours of court time and litigation over his will and properties, it was finally decided that I would handle the estate sale since no one could agree on anything, and I was the most respectable person left in the will. Every single item left in the house, after everyone got the sentimental items, had to be liquidated. The courts gave me the key to his mansion, along with strict instructions on how to go about selling every last item in my Grandfather’s house.

I contacted an estate sale company and they came to meet me at the house. They gave me more instructions, a couple hints on pricing, and all the equipment and price tags I would need to mark everything in the house for sale. All of the small items in the house had to be priced, tagged and placed in the living room on plastic tables they had set up for me. All of the furniture would stay where it was, but would also need pricing and tags.

The last thing the company told me was that they would send over a team in the morning to watch over the sale. “Due to liability in this state, we can not tell you what to price everything in the house, but here is a basic guide to help you, good night, see you tomorrow. Oh, and remember that the courts are requiring you to make at least $200,000 off of tomorrow’s sale.”

I was left alone in the house, dumbstruck. They sure charge a lot of money to just “watch” a sale! But anywho, I got to work.

I started at one corner downstairs and started pricing everything according to the guide they had given me. I kept a spread sheet in front of me adding each item to the list along with description, location, condition, and asking price. By the time I had worked my way to the upstairs I still was only at $125,000 worth of items, with most of his expansive collections being downstairs, the upstairs was not going to cut it. I was starting to get worried that I would not surpass the $200,000 mark, and would have to go back and re-price everything up a 25 percent.

Finally I got to my Grandfather’s room and worked through it ending at his dresser. “There better be $40,000 worth of items in this thing” I told myself. 1st Drawer was just socks and tighty whities. 2nd Drawer was all the sweaters I remember him wearing when I was younger. 3rd Drawer was shorts and pants. 4th Drawer had better yield something! I pulled open the drawer and found the source of his wealth. Well not really, it was a drawer FULL to the top with photos of happy times, and long lost memories. This drawer would have been worth everything to him, but for the sale, it was useless.

Digging around in the photos, enjoying the memories, seeing pictures of people that had been passed for years, and wasting time before the “house wide re-pricing”, I found the oldest looking book I had ever seen, inches thick and over a foot tall. Turned out it was the diary of my Grandfather. The book went back all the way to his birth when his mother had started the diary for him, and had obviously written in it until he could take over. I skimmed the diary and found many reverences to “thE STone”. Every entry that I read that involved “thE STone”, always seemed to have something mystical happen. There was one entry where my Grandfather stated that he had ridden a unicorn with the help of “thE STone”. Another, where he had pranced through the magical land of his favorite Piers Anthony book.

I went back further in the diary, back about 10 years and there where still mentions of “thE STone”. 20 years back, 40 years back, 87 years back and there where still amazing stories and “fairy tails” involving the stone. I eventually found what I was looking for, the first mention of the stone. He didn’t say much about it, just that “the rock is great; I’m going to call it thE STone.” Reading a few pages back I realized that he was an avid rock collector at the age of 11 and enjoyed looking for stones that where smooth and round at the beach and in rivers. The diary had no mention though of where he had found this particular stone.

Setting the diary down I dug out more photos and uncovered a small rock collection in the bottom of the drawer. I opened the glass topped fancy wooden box and gawked at the stones. Even though they where obviously just rocks they each had a wonderfully simple beauty about them. Each of the 24 stones was sitting in its own felt lined separator, but only one stone was wrapped in its very own Satin pull string bag. I opened the satin bag and dropped the stone out onto my hand. This was a beautiful stone, smooth, black and slightly shiny from the oils of being handled a lot, but it was definitely the ugliest rock in the box.

Holding onto the stone I picked up the diary and read some more. I found that in his 11 year old childhood fantasies all he did was hold the stone and make a wish, his wish would be answered.

Well time to get back to the grown-up world. I took the rock collection and the diary downstairs and set the rock collection on the tables, but I took the diary out to my car. Looking at my tally sheet, I realized that I was still almost $40,000 short of my goal. So just being cocky I put a $50,000 price on the box of stones, knowing that I would change it later after I had re-priced the rest of the house.

Starting back at the beginning I walked over to the first item on my list, an antique table with a built in reading lamp. I stood there pondering for a moment what to price it. Should I just raise everything in the house about 25% or should I target expensive items that I think might sell for more and raise them 50%.

Jokingly I figured I would call on the spirit of my Grandfather’s childhood imagination and pretend the stone was a wishing stone. I held onto the stone and wished “I wish I knew exactly what I should price this item to reach my goal”. I waited, playfully hoping for a miracle, I looked around expecting the lights to mysteriously dim or a slight wind to blow through my hair, but nothing happened, just like I expected. With that out of the way, I got back to the business at hand. I marked the item up 25%, and walked over to the next item on the list, and marked it up 25%, along with the rest of the downstairs items.

I took a break before starting on the upstairs. I went back and rummaged through the photos setting aside any photos I liked. Fifteen minutes later, I decided to get back to work.

“One last try for the stone before I throw it back with the others” I told myself. “I wish everything of my Grandfather’s in this house would be priced properly to make at least $200,000 in tomorrow’s sale.” The lights didn’t dim, but I did feel a little queasy, like the floor had just moved a half a foot. Maybe there had just been a tiny earth quake?

“THUMP” I heard a noise downstairs. I went cautiously down the stairs looking for intruders, but no one was there. I went to the front door and the coat rack was laying on the floor. I picked it up and walked into the living room. I saw a movement out of the corner of my eye, and my heart jumped. The couch was sliding towards the window. Earthquake? When the couch stopped moving the chair next to it started moving, I walked over to it and there was nothing physically moving the furniture, but it was sliding none the less! As I watched the chair slide I saw the price tag on it glint. Checking the tag the price was significantly lower than the first price I had given it! I thought to myself “maybe I just wrote it wrong?” As a new piece of furniture started to move, I checked the couch and found that its price tag had been changed too!

This was just too weird for me to handle! I decided to go sit in my car and just relax for a minute, I must be stressed! The only problem with that was that the front door was jammed. The handle turned and the lock worked, but the door didn’t even budge, as if it was a false door all along. Panic sunk in, I ran for the nearest window but it would not budge either!

Calming myself, telling myself that I would call a locksmith as soon as my breathing and heart slowed, I went over and sat down on the couch. The experience for the next 20 minutes was creepy to say the least! One by one each and every item downstairs, other than the plastic tables the estate sale had left, moved. Most of it only moved a few inches but everything moved at least a little. When each item was done moving the price tag would glint faintly. I started to notice though that the layout was getting more appealing to they eye. Although the items themselves where not changing their new lighting or position made each item look a little nicer, and the whole room had a more open inviting feeling than before.

I pulled the stone out of my pocket and looked at it, starting to waiver on whether or not I was sane, I started to take in the idea that maybe the rock was for real! Maybe the rock is how my Grandfather and his immediate family went from poor to rich in a few short years when he was young, but no one knew how. Confused, holding the stone I said “I wish I knew what to do now”. Nothing changed. Maybe there can only be one wish at a time? I could tell that the old wish was still working; I could hear things sliding around upstairs.

Even though I felt nauseous, I decided to take a running tally of the items in the house, I started at the beginning again and just wrote down the prices. About an hour later I was back at the photo drawer again and I was adding up all the items. The total I came up with was puzzling though, the total was only $192,100. What happened to the last $8,000? I looked over the list and realized that one of my Grandfather’s collectables was written down way too low. I went downstairs to find out what the correct price was.

When I found the item, and looked at the tag it said $100, where as all of the other matching parts of the set each said between $6000-8000. This must have been a mistake on the wish’s part. (“Listen to me talking about the wish like it’s a person… This can’t even be for real and I’m giving it a personality!”) I picked up the item; I erased the price and wrote $8000, and set it back on the self.

As I walked away I heard a sliding noise, I turned around and dove to the ground trying to catch the item as it fell off the shelf but I was not even close! I walked over and picked the item up off the ground and as I placed all the pieces back on the shelf the tag glinted again and changed to “$100 broken, sold as is”. My heart dropped! The wish seemed even more than before to have a personality, it knew this would happen! What was I to do now!?

Than it hit me, the nausea, turned suddenly into spinning, and my stomach started to ache like I had not eaten a meal in 2 days. I decided to go take a rest upstairs on one of the beds. I went up to the guest room, not wanting to disturb my Grandfather’s bed. I plopped down on the bed and the world slowly came to a halt and the spinning returned to nausea. It was almost like an out of body experience, I didn’t feel like I was in my body, but my point of view had not changed. I was starting to break into a cold sweat, when I decided to go look for some medicine.

I tried to slide my legs off the end of the bed, but I could not move them, and my arms had so little strength in them that I could not move the bulk of my body. I felt so heavy, my toes feeling the heaviest and my head feeling light in comparison. I could feel the heavy feeling spreading up my body, creeping up my legs. I lifted my head to look at the foot of the bed and as I looked down I could see my feet moving, like unseen hands where pulling at them. Before too long my shoes had slipped off my feet and my socks where being slipped off. I watched in mute horror as my button fly started to undo its self, and I watched my pants slid all the way off my legs on to the floor, then slide into the closet, along with my shoes. The rest of my clothing went in just the same manor, and within 5 minutes I was buck naked.

Against my own will, as the power to move was drained from my legs and arms, I also became a little excited. The idea of not being able to move mixed with the feeling of my clothes ever so softly slipping off my body made me feel nice. I started to wonder what I might look like laying there naked on the bed. I wondered if someone where to walk in right now and see me, what would they think. Would they like what they saw? I closed my eyes to imagine, but when I closed my eyes, flashes of sex scenes raged through my mind at a mile a minute, which only aided in my getting even more excited.

I lifted my head again to look down at my body and I found that my skin was featureless! And I don’t just mean no hair and no freckles! My body was featureless like a mannequin. No nipples, no belly button, no privates that I could see, not a single hair and no skin blemishes what so ever. There was not a feature left that would be able to tell you my gender! Somehow though this turned me on even more, all of my thoughts ended in something sexual. The thought of having perfect skin just made me desire someone’s touch. The thought of having no nipples or genitals just made me want to give someone else pleasure instead of receive it.

I realized that I felt a little cold naked when my toes started to feel warm. It was the weirdest feeling, they didn’t feel warm like the air was warmer than them, they felt warm like they where the same temperature as the air, it just felt different, and there was no other way to explain it. Then the warmth started to spread, it felt nice, like the warming feeling you get when you are sexually excited. As the feeling passed my knees I sensed a faint smell in the air but I could not place it. Soon the warmth was passing my featureless privates, then past where my belly button would be. As the warmth passed up my sides I focused all my effort to move my right hand closer to my body, I just had to touch myself. All I could muster was for my pointy finger to get a touch on my warm skin. Just that light touch on my side felt so sensual, super sensitive. To my side the finger felt hot, but to my finger my skin felt cool like latex at room temperature. LATEX! That’s what that smell is! It’s latex!

I looked down and low and behold my entire body looked like it was made of soft latex! The thought just sent thrills of sexual energy through my body, the energy seemed to surge and stop at my crotch. As I watched I started to see my hips changing shape, wider flatter, the kind of hips women dream of having and men dream of squeezing. I noticed my toenails start to change color to a bright red. I could feel something happening to my crotch but I could not see. It felt like my smooth crotch was splitting from top to bottom. I could feel things taking shape down there, and as I craned my neck to see I realized that my featureless chest was growing breasts. I could see the peaks of these breasts darkening into perfect small hard nipples. Soon I could not see past this amazing cleavage and I set my head back down to focus on the feelings in the crotch.

I could not close my eyes to concentrate because all I could see then was scene after scene of men and women fucking. So with my eyes open I focused on my crotch. I could feel folds of skin forming, and I could feel a nub forming at the top of these folds. I could feel a vagina forming and then an anus.

Amongst all of these changes I had totally missed the warmth spread down my arms to my hands which I found where now totally motionless. I could feel my right wrist burning; I looked down and saw this flap of latex skin growing out of my wrist. As it formed I could see exactly what it was forming into, a bracelet of string with a tag hanging off of it, a price tag. The tag glinted and I could just read $7900 written on it.

That’s when I remembered the sale, the stone, and my wishes! I had asked the stone “I wish everything of my Grandfather’s in this house would be priced properly to make at least $200,000 in tomorrow’s sale.” Well that sealed it; I’m my Grandfather’s Grandkid! I’m going to be part of the sale…

As the realization of all of this really started to sink in, it didn’t seem to matter. I could tell now that my mind was changing with my body, I was horny as hell now, and the only thing that seemed to matter was getting fucked by my owner. Pleasing my owner. (“Where did that thought come from? “fucked by my owner”?”) If all of my thoughts are of sex, and I’m slowly turning into latex… I must be becoming a latex sex doll! I rested my head and kept my eyes open; I didn’t want to see any more sex. I could feel the warmth now, it had seemed to take a rest but now it was pressing up my spine slowly. As it passed my lower throat I yelled out “please use me”, just before my voice box was warmed. The last thread of my old mind hung on as the warmth passed over my jaws and my throat and mouth began forming into a pleasure hole. I could feel my hair changing, growing past my shoulders and I could see out of the corner of my eyes its new goldilocks blond hair.

Now with my body fully formed, there was no way I could close my eyes. My entire body was now a latex love doll, ready in every way to be fucked and used. I could sense my mind making its last changes too. I went off into an endless dream of being a good toy, being happily used, and pleasing. My thoughts are now much more simple than before. I can still remember who I was, and how I got here, but none of that matters any more. All that matters is what I am now. What my new job is and what I would like to have done to me.

“I hope the sale goes alright.”

“I hope I can please my new owner often.”

toy

27.10.06

Thanks for reading this story. If you've enjoyed it and want to support more writing in this style and these subjects please consider becoming a Patreon at http://www.Patreon.com/Baubleheadz
My newest stories will be available there first for my subscribers before being released for free on sites such as http://www.grometsplaza.net

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