When you can finally manage to move again, you're able to examine the changes wrought upon your body. And there's nothing left to remind you of who you were.

Firstly, obviously, is that you were feminized. A fair bit shorter than before, and all womanly curves - a body built to grace centerfolds and adolescent wet dreams. Your skin is pale white and blemish-free, porcelain smooth -- in fact, porcelain hard, too. Apparently your transformation has left you as a living doll. You're dressed in a classic maid's uniform with long dark skirt, poofy-sleeved blouse, and frilly apron. However, the uniform doesn't have the consistency of fabric and you realize that it is fashioned of porcelain as well, - rather than clothing it is a part of your new form.

Highlighting those changes are perhaps even more bizare modifications to your body. Not really visible past your floor-length skirt, you nevertheless can feel that your feet have been reshaped so that rather than appearing to be in a pair of needle-heeled stiletto pumps, they are the pumps. And where your hands should be is instead the only non-porcelain aspect of your new body -- plump collections of dark, downy feathers resembling traditional feather dusters.

Many months later you are able to catch your reflection in a mirror, getting a chance to see your perfectly sculpted, gently smiling face, frozen forever in an expression of wide-eyed innocence.

You lose track of time, and eventually you lose track of yourself, remembering nothing, and living in the moment only, content to serve the five as a living maid doll, even if your abilities are somewhat limited.