Ballistic Gel Dummy Transformation (Patreon)

My hands were sweating as I stood in the storage closet at work, holding the paper in my hand. If this worked, it would make for the greatest day of my life. I managed to get my hands on a black-market transformation spell that could turn a person into a sentient inanimate object. Nervously, I read the incantation aloud. For a moment, nothing happened but then my body started to... ripple. I felt my male body shifting and changing, widening in the hips and thighs and growing across the chest while slimming in the waist. I shuddered as the change washed over me, a warm, pleasant, almost arousing feeling seeping into my body. In addition to the my changing shape, the texture of my skin changed, becoming a clear yellow color. In moments I turned from a middle aged man to a thick female ballistics gel dummy in a skimpy outfit. Now all I had to do was wait. The next morning one of my coworkers opened the closet door and clicked the light on. When she saw me, she tilted her head and wrinkled her eyes. She verbally expressed her confusion regarding the overly sexualized shape of the test dummy, aka me. With a shrug, she rolled her eyes and dragged me onto a cart. Excitement shot through me, both at her touch and at the knowledge of what was to come. Soon, my coworker had dragged me off the cart again and propped me up on a stand designed to hold gel dummies like myself. Once I was in place, she walked to a table about thirty feet in front of me with several experimental paintball guns splayed out on it. I would have shuddered in excitement if I still had control over my body. She raised one of the guns toward me and squeezed the trigger. I moaned internally at the arousing sting of the paint balls striking across my chest, stomach, thighs and arms. I sighed to myself, loving every single impact. The fact that the pain was being delivered at the hands of my completely unaware, attractive coworker make it even better. She put the gun down and walked over to me, carefully inspecting the impact points. She even ran her fingers over my gel skin, sending pleasant shivers though me. After taking some notes on a clipboard, she returned to the table and started firing again, spraying me with more stinging welts. The constant pain and blatant disregard for me had me more aroused than I had ever been in my entire life. My coworker alternated between shooting me and caressing me for almost three hours before she was finally finished. I sighed to myself, figuring she would put me back in the closet and find the note explaining how to restore me. I HAD left it in the closet... didn’t I?