I want to speak, to cry out for help; but I know that I cannot; no words, no sound will ever escape my eternally frozen lips.

 I want to wave, blink, gesture, make any kind of movement that will catch someone’s attention, but I know that I cannot. The only way my body can move is if one of the dressers adjusts me at one of my pivot points; for I am a mannequin.

 Of course, thousands of people have seen me as they pass through the store or by one of the front display windows. From most, I rate only a passing glance; but many do stop to admire my form, or the beautiful outfits I wear. Ah, the outfits; the one real pleasure I have left in this life. Fortunately, I am one of the most popular mannequins among the dressers, and in the nearly five years I’ve been in this frozen state, I have been on almost constant display, and I’ve worn everything from sexy lingerie to sportswear to business attire and what I’m wearing now, formal wear.

 Even though my skin is now hard plastic, it retains full sensitivity, and I still revel in the feelings of smooth satin or lycra, soft cotton or warm leather against it.

 Right now, I’m in a floor length black evening dress that’s sleeveless, backless and strapless. It hugs every curve of my form perfectly. My hands and forearms are covered in elbow-length lavender gloves. My auburn hair, which usually cascades to my shoulders, is piled atop my head in an elegant upsweep, with just a few stray tendrils dangling near my ears. Although they’re basically hidden by the length of the gown, my feet are propped up by 2 1/2 inch spike heels.

 In the days since my transformation, which have stretched now to weeks, months and years, I’ve spent many, many hours trying to figure out a way to communicate with someone else. I know it’s too late for me; but maybe I can save someone else from my fate. For the past few months, I have been experimenting with telepathy; my hope is that I can project my thoughts into a receptive mind. I have no idea whether it will work or not, but there’s no reason not to keep trying; after all, I have an eternity ahead of me.

 I notice a tall, beautiful, young blonde stop in front of the window. She looks to be in her early twenties, must be close to six feet tall; has a slim but nice figure; and her honey-blonde hair and makeup are impeccable. She’s wearing knee-high black leather boots with stiletto heels, a velvet skirt, and a fur-trimmed leather jacket. She seems to be staring right at me, no doubt wondering how my dress would look on her.

 I focus all my powers of concentration on her mind, repeating the message again and again, “Listen to me! Listen to me! Listen to me!”

 Suddenly, a startled expression appears on the blonde’s face. “Listen!” I repeat.

 Now, she looks alarmed, and glances around her nervously. I fear she’s going to ignore me, or flee.

 “It’s me! Yes, the mannequin you’re looking at! Please, if you can hear and understand me, nod!”

 Hesitantly, ever so slightly, she nods.

 “I know you must think that you’re crazy or hearing voices or something, but you’re not. I am a mannequin, and I’m communicating my thoughts to you. Please, if you have a few minutes, listen to my story. I’ve been trying for months to reach somebody; I don’t know if it’s random fate, or if I’ve reached you for a reason, but It’s important that you hear me out. Will you do that for me?”

 She nods again.

 “Once, I was human. For one glorious year, I was a beautiful young woman like you; before that I was a man. A desperately lonely and unhappy man. From childhood, I knew I had been born in the wrong body; It was my firm conviction from the start that I should have been born a girl. I secretly tried dressing as a girl a few times in my early teen years, but my homely appearance made that a mockery.  Besides, I knew that if I had ever been discovered by my parents, I would have been severely punished.

 “I left home and moved to this city as soon as I graduated from high school, and over the next couple of years drifted from one dead-end job to another. I thought about a sex-change operation and plastic surgery, but it seemed too much to deal with, so my life as a female remained solely in my mind. “It was Christmas Eve almost six years ago when I reached the low point of my life. I didn’t want to go home to my parents, and I had no friends here, and no hope for the future. I actually considered suicide. I was sitting in front of the television, feeling the depths of my despair, when the room was suddenly filled with a radiant light.

 “I was blinded for a moment, but soon, I could see the form of a beautiful woman taking shape. She was the loveliest creature I had ever seen, with flowing red hair, soft features, and a lovely form wrapped in what seemed like a couple of layers of filmy, almost transparent robes. “I asked, ‘Who are you are where did you come from?’

 “ She smiled at that moment, her thoughts filled my head, and were communicating much as you and I are now. She told me that she was the wish fairy.

 “I can see you smiling.! Don’t laugh -- I almost did. She assured me that she did exist, and that she had the power to grant wishes. She explained that it was a very rare power that had to be used sparingly and wisely, so she couldn’t even begin to grant all the wishes there are in this world. But she does select a few candidates that she deems worthy, and fulfills their heart’s desire. She told me that my desire to be a woman seemed to spring from a such purity of heart that it had moved her, and so, it would happen.

 “And in an instant, it did. My fleshy, unattractive male form was gone, replaced by a beautiful woman -- me! I was overwhelmed with joy. I tried to hug the fairy, and that’s when I discovered she had no solid form...she was a wraith, a spirit. I mentally conveyed my gratitude. “She reminded me that I had been granted a great gift, and that I must use it wisely. She also warned me that she would return in one year to assess how I had done; at that point she could revoke or alter the wish. At that point, she faded away.

 “Well, the next day -- Christmas Day -- I still spent alone, but was the greatest December 25th I ever had.  I was so happy and excited....to be honest, I spent most of the day playing with my new pussy and boobs. I fingered myself to one orgasm after another...it was so new, so incredibly wonderful...."

The young blonde standing outside my window blushed like a schoolgirl with this shared intimacy.

I continued my story. “I suppose I should tell you what I had dreamed my life as a woman would be like. It’s significant to what came next, and what ultimately happened to me. More than anything, I wanted to find and share love. All I wanted was a husband, two or three kids, and to make a nice home for them. In other words, I dreamed of being a soccer mom. It’s something that millions of women probably take for granted, but it was what I wanted...or so I thought.

 “I ventured out in public for the first time on the 26th, losing myself in the after-Christmas sales crowds. After all, I needed a wardrobe! I didn’t have too much to spend, though, and that’s when I realized I needed to find a job. I knew I didn’t have any real skills, but did have looks now; I decided to seek a receptionist’s job. I figured maybe I could get my foot in the door of an office, and work my way up until I could find a husband, and start living out my dream.

 “I went to the employment office, and the first place they sent me was a modeling agency. When I walked through the front door, the woman who was subbing behind the front desk couldn’t believe I was there to apply for the receptionist position. She brought out the woman who was in charge of the agency, and before I knew it, I was a professional model!

 “Mrs. Lincoln, the woman who ran the agency, also couldn’t believe I hadn’t worked as a model before. She told me that I was a real natural at it, that I seemed to have a gift for displaying beautiful clothes of all types. I did pretty well with local assignments for a couple of months, but soon got my first national assignments. I had my first Vogue cover just four months later. I was truly the overnight sensation of the industry--”

 My story was interrupted by a thought from the woman standing in front of me. “Of course! I knew you looked familiar!” This was wonderful; now we could really communicate. She added “I didn’t mean to interrupt; please do go on.”

 “Don’t apologize; I’m just glad that I can understand you, and you can understand me. Anyway, this is where things really started to go wrong. I’m afraid my sudden success got the better of me. My modeling became my life; I couldn’t get enough of the attention, and the beautiful clothes. Even though I got to keep all kinds of outfits that I wore, it wasn’t enough. By this time, I had rented a penthouse apartment with a huge walk-in closet; every day I wasn’t working, I was out shopping, spending as much as I could on more beautiful outfits. When I wasn’t shopping, I was in my favorite spa, submitting to all kinds of wonderfully pampering beauty treatments."

 “In the back of my mind, I guess I knew that I was being pretty self-indulgent. But after being so...ugly, and so ignored for all my life, I couldn’t seem to help myself."

 “I had a couple of boyfriends during that year, but they were superficial relationships. Oh yes, the sex was great -- fantastic in fact -- but that’s all there was really; no depth, no real emotional bond. I had strayed pretty far from my original dream, but God, I was enjoying myself, just living each day for the pleasure of it, not thinking about the future... A future that arrived all too quickly. Before I knew it, it was December 24th. Other than it being Christmas Eve, and the first anniversary of my transformation, I didn’t give it much thought. It was late afternoon; I was getting ready for a Christmas party, when she came back.

 “Who came back?”

 “The wish fairy. The room filled with the same radiant light, and she appeared before me. She was just as beautiful as before, but something was different; I realized it was the look of great sadness on her face. ‘I think you know why I’m here,’ she told me. “In my heart of hearts, I did know, but couldn’t admit it to myself, so I let her go on. ‘You have abused your wish terribly. I granted your transformation because I thought it would be an opportunity to unlock the love in your heart; to let you find fulfillment, and share it with others. Instead, you have spent almost every moment on empty, surface pleasures. There’s so much more to life as a woman than to be displaying beautiful clothes.’

 “I tired to protest. ‘It’s not like I hurt anyone!’ I pleaded.

 “’No,’ she said, ‘You haven’t hurt anyone, except me, but wish fulfillment brings with it more than a responsibility not to do harm; it also carries a responsibility to do good. You have failed me, and yourself. Remember, I told you that the wish would be reviewed after one year, and could be altered or revoked.’

 “Now I was getting nervous. ‘Please.’ I begged. ‘Give me another chance! Don’t change me back into a male!’

 “’I’m sorry, but it’s too late. But I’m not changing you back into a male. You’re going to become something else.’ At that point, there was another flash of light. When my vision cleared, I realized the fairy was still beside me, but we were no longer in my apartment. We were in a large, windowless room that was filled with mannequins in various stages of assembly and other materials from store displays. “’Where are we?’ I asked.

 “”You may not recognize this room, but you know this building very well. It’s your favorite upscale department store. You did your first modeling assignments for them, and you spent most of your free time here this year, shopping. Since all you seem to care about is looking beautiful and displaying clothes, I think it’s appropriate that you become a mannequin. The store just received a new shipment of mannequins. It will be very simple for you to take the place of one of them.’

 “We had been communicating by telepathy, but now I tried to open my mouth and shout out ‘No!’ but my face and my body not listening to my mind; somehow I knew that something strange was about to take place. It seemed ridiculous to think a living woman could become a plastic mannequin, but just a year earlier, I had been a male, and now I was female, so I guess I realized it was possible -- and was about to happen.

 “’Don’t try to run, dear, and don’t bother calling for help. The store is closed, and empty except for a security guard who is too far away from you to be heard. Don’t worry; it’s not going to hurt...physically, anyway. She made some quick gestures, there was another flash of light, and it was done.

 “A full-length mirror propped against a nearby wall allowed me to inspect my new form. I looked much as I had a moment before, but now I was naked, and couldn’t move a muscle. I saw my new, unblinking glass eyes staring back at me. My hairless skin was of a uniform color and had a plastic sheen to it. I noticed the pivot points on my arms, legs and at my waist."

 “I wanted to cry out, but I couldn’t; I could only plead for help mentally; but the fairy was gone. I spent the next day--Christmas again!--alone and stiffly posed in that darkened storeroom. But the next day, the display staff arrived, and my new life began..."

 The woman on the street in front of me looked so sad, like she was ready to cry. ‘It must be so terrible for you.’ her thoughts formed.

 “Yes, in some ways it is, but in others, I’ve learned to adapt to my new life. I’ve got to admit that I still enjoy being the center of attention for the display staff; wearing beautiful new clothes and being fussed over. I get to watch thousands of people come and go every day... I just can’t ever be one of them again. So, my message to you is this; there’s more to life than looking beautiful; go beyond the surface; look for the love in your heart; and share it with others. Will you do that, for me?”

 Now the tears were rolling down her cheeks. “Yes...yes I will. I think it’s more than fate that brought us together. I’ve been living a pretty shallow, beauty-obsessed life. That’s going to change, starting today. And I can thank you for it.”

 “Than my life isn’t a complete waste, after all.” I wanted to smile; I wanted to cry; but of course, my frozen expression remained unchanged.

 The woman glanced up at me once more. “Thanks...and goodbye.” She reached into a purse for a handkerchief, dried her tears, and turned away.
 

 As I mentioned at the beginning, I’m part of a formal wear display. There are half a dozen of us in this large front window, all dressed in elegant evening gowns. The backdrop is the front of an upscale brownstone; we all appear to be arriving for a holiday party. There’s artificial snow and ice on the ground, and dry ice fog helps to complete the effect of a cold winter’s evening.

 I also told you that this was my favorite department store. It’s a grand old store, but the building is more than 80 years old, and the heating system is awfully cranky at times. Sometimes the store is near freezing; today, it’s sweltering. It’s particularly bad inside this closed display. I am aware of the heat, though not made uncomfortable by it. I am aware of a strange effect, though; drops of condensation seem to be forming on my plastic cheeks.

 Suddenly, I am aware of a different woman and her daughter stopped before the window, staring up at me. The girl must be about six years old. She tugs her mother’s hand.

 “Look mommy, the mannequin is crying.”

 “No dear, that’s just moisture inside the display; mannequins can’t cry.”

 But this one was.