Change begins in the mind: Zahir

by Cockatrice   

A new therapy method allows people to turn into anything they want. Zahir has signed up for sessions before having told his flatmate…

Steven was going through his appointments for the upcoming week when he heard the doorbell ring.

He opened the door to reveal a man standing on the other side. It was the new client. Steven had only exchanged emails with him. This was the first meeting.

“Zahir?” Steven asked.

“Yeah,” the man said as he was ushered in. “Thanks.”

“Please call me Steven.” He closed the door behind Zahir. “I hope being on a first-name basis is all right? I found it makes people relax more easily, which is somewhat important for what we’re doing.” He laughed.

“Yeah yeah, it’s fine.”

Steven motioned to the first door on the right. “Take a seat.”

Zahir walked into the room, taking it in as he was slowly walking over to the small seating area. The room was roughly divided into two halves: One with a table and chairs, as well as a couple of bookshelves behind, and the other half filled with miscellaneous furniture and objects used for kinky action. It seemed incomplete and lopsided. There was a shelf with multiple rubber suits and some padded benches and ottomans, but for example no smaller items like gags, masks, or ropes. A door led to another room behind.

When Zahir sat down, Steven pointed at the teapot on the table. “I made tea. Is that all right or do you want something else?”

“No no, tea is fine.”

“All right then.” Steven joined him at the table. “So, you want to become an object?”

The man nodded. The lack of a verbal answer, as well as his body language, told Steven that he was nervous. He probably hadn’t told a lot of people yet and it might have still been difficult to admit it. That’d be something they’d have to fix first. Steven took a mental note.

Steven read through a printout of their emails. “You said you have thought about this for a couple of weeks.”

Zahir gulped and confirmed. “Mmh.”

“And that is how long you have fantasized about this?”

“No.” Zahir thought for a moment. “I’ve been following the transformation scene for a while, but I never quite thought I wanted to be an object, until two months ago.”

“What happened?”

Zahir rolled his eyes and waved his hands as if embarrassed by the memory. “Had a party with friends, got a little bit drunk. Something fell under the couch. I crouched down to retrieve it. One of my friends put his legs on my back and made a joke about me being a perfect footstool.” Zahir took a breath to collect his thoughts. “And, uh, I took a couple of seconds to get back up. I played it off as just going along with his joke, but… The truth was that I couldn’t think about anything for the rest of the evening other than getting back down on all fours and being used by someone, like, as furniture.”

Steven silently nodded along.

Meanwhile, Zahir investigated his hands, which didn’t want to hold still. “I looked more into it, what kind of options there were, what would be needed to become an object, and ultimately what I would want to be.”

“And what would you want to be?”

Zahir produced a small piece of paper from a pocket and unfolded it, sliding it over the table. It showed a piece of wooden furniture with red padding. One central raised piece in the middle for the torso and two lower ones to either side, where the arms and legs would rest. “A fuck bench.”

Steven nodded as he looked at the image. “That’s a fairly easy shape.” He brought his attention back to Zahir. “How sure are you about being a sex bench?”

“Very,” Zahir said with so far uncharacteristic conviction. “I went through all the different objects I thought could be interesting, imagining scenarios, fantasizing about them, even role-playing them in my room.” He smiled. “I want to feel someone on me, while they… are having fun.”

“Very well.” Steven decided to move to the next topic. “Do you already know where you will go after you have completed your transformation?”

Zahir squirmed. “I… was hoping… that I could stay here.”

“That’s perfectly fine.” Steven gestured to the wall behind Zahir, where the various objects were on display. “I have quite a few former clients here.”

Zahir let his gaze wander across the rubber suits and ottomans and whatnot. His eyes widened as realization dawned. “All of them?”

“All of them.” Steven nodded. “You’re also sitting on someone.”

Zahir snapped back to face Steven. “Are- are they aware?”

“Of course. The changes are facilitated by thoughts,” Steven explained. “A diminished mind has trouble maintaining those and the transformation cannot continue if there is no want or imagination.” He gestured to his former clients. “Cognitively, every one of them is as much a human as you and I.”

Zahir became visibly self-conscious about sitting on a person. “Can they hear and feel?”

“Depends on the person, but so far all my clients retained their sight, touch and hearing. Some even smell and taste. Remember that the mind is the driving force here. If you believe you are blind or deaf as an object, you will lose your ability to see and hear before you lose your eyes and ears.”

Zahir nodded.

“This is the absolute most important thing to remember throughout the entire process: The change begins in the mind.”

Zahir turned the phone off after he had gone through the messages of the day. He had told almost everyone about his plans to become an object and the reactions were… mixed at best. They ranged from urging Zahir to reconsider, to awkwardly wishing him luck. His parents were awfully quiet at first, before sending him articles on the subject on a daily basis, possibly attempting to show their support.

Mentally Induced Natural Transformation, or MINT for short, was only properly recognized as a real thing a couple of decades ago. While the human mind has always had the ability to remodel the body, it took targeted research into this phenomenon which otherwise only appeared in freak situations. Over the years the mechanics have been understood and the process of undergoing such a transformation refined.

Knowledge of MINT also made many people aware that they did in fact identify as an object. While it was widely accepted that MINT would be used by early humans to augment their own bodies, academics were split on people identifying as objects. Most disregarded this as an oddity or even a disorder, but some postulated that it evolved as a survival tactic for the group as a whole, turning into objects that other members of the tribe could use. It would also explain why sometimes people get irrationally attached to certain items.

Subsequently, the use of tools eventually gave rise to the ability to craft new tools, which in turn made MINT largely useless. With better weapons and tools, even augmenting the body became less important, until the technique fell into obscurity.

Zahir was pulled from his thoughts when he heard the front door to his flat open. He had told everyone he cared about where his life would be going, except for one person.

Alex appeared in the doorway after having shrugged off his jacket and shoes.

“Hey, how’s it going?” He made his way over to the couch and sat down.

Zahir shrugged. “It goes.”

Alex pulled out his phone and started reading on his screen, presumably checking messages.

Zahir tried to muster the strength to tell Alex about his new identity. It had been easy telling his family and friends, because he could send them a message or call them, and then when the conversation was over, he could turn off the phone and not worry about their reactions.

But Alex was his flatmate. Zahir couldn’t just avoid him, at least not efficiently or for long.

“How was work?” Zahir said instead.

“Eh.” Alex shrugged without taking his eyes off the phone. “Client wants all sorts of changes, but it’s whatever. Same business as usual, really.”

Zahir tried to figure out a way to breach the topic without being blunt, something to ease the conversation into the direction, as a way to mentally prepare both of them.

Alex suddenly looked up, apparently remembering something. “Saw a dude today who was a pair of jeans. The face was actually on the outside of the butt.” He let out a short laugh before returning his attention to his phone. “What a fucking weirdo.”

Zahir bit his lips.

He’d tell Alex another time.

“Mmh.” Steven looked down at Zahir’s posture.

Zahir was on the ground on all fours, his arms and legs tucked up to rest on his knees and elbows. This had been his position during each session after the first, as he was now a sex bench.

It has been one week of daily sessions now. While progress had been faster than for many others, Zahir had picked a relatively simple object, which put him behind what Steven would have expected. Plus, Zahir did very well during their sessions, but he shouldn’t have to struggle to keep his arms and legs in this position anymore.

“Anything wrong?” Zahir asked.

Steven worded his question carefully, to avoid sounding like he was disappointed. “How much practice do you get at home?”

Zahir looked away. “Not much.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Just… I mean, I have a flatmate, so I’m around people most of the time.”

“They could help you with your transformation,” Steven offered.

Zahir took a moment to reply. “I haven’t told him yet.”

Steven nodded. “You should.”

“What if he, well, doesn’t play along?”

“Doesn’t matter as much,” Steven pointed out. “How others treat someone undergoing MINT isn’t as important as how that person is acting towards them. If you keep acting like a human around them, your progress will stagnate. The most important thing is that you convince yourself. Not your flatmate. Not me. Yourself.”

Zahir looked at the ground.

“I know that it can be difficult,” Steven looked over to the former clients on the other side of the room. “But no matter how he takes it, it will help your MINT.”

Zahir didn’t say anything.

“What do you think about hypnosis?”

“Never done it.”

“Well,” Steven folded his hands. “I can offer it as a means to make the little practice that you get at home a little bit more effective.”

“Sounds good.”

“It won’t replace letting your flatmate in on it and acting like an object full time though.”

Zahir produced an awkward smile. “Yeah.”

“All right then.” Steven got up and grabbed a spiral disc from the shelf. He put it in front of Zahir on the ground and turned it on, causing it to spin. “Focus your eyes on the center of the spiral and your mind on my words.”

He walked behind Zahir and lowered himself onto his back. At one point Steven would have to use Zahir properly as a sex bench, but for now, his client needed to get used to carrying the weight of a person.

“You are on the ground on all fours,” Steven began. It was important to set the trigger to assuming the position. “Each of your four legs is touching the floor. Your back is forming a horizontal surface. You are completely still.”

Zahir slightly adjusted himself, realizing the faults with his form.

“You are a sex bench,” Steven continued. “You are a piece of furniture. Your body is made of wood. You cannot move and you cannot speak.”

They had already gone through Zahir’s desired outcome, so Steven knew what exactly Zahir would look like and what his abilities would be.

“You have four wooden legs that are touching the ground. The wood of your body is dark brown walnut. The grain paints gentle patterns across your body and legs. Your back is the highest point of your body. A red leather padding covers its top. To either side of your body you have two more bars with red padding. It almost feels like skin, but is much softer to the touch.”

Steven felt Zahir tense up.

“You relax because you are at ease with your form. Being immobile causes you comfort. You cannot speak, and you do not wish to. You are an object and all you want is to be used.”

Finally, Zahir relaxed.

“People will be lying on top of you, their belly on your back, their arms and legs on the bars to your side. They will be played with or spanked by their sex partners. You do not take direct part in it. You are not part of their love-making, only a prop to be used.”

Imperceptible to the untrained senses, Zahir’s body stiffened and the tremors of his muscles supporting Steven’s weight ceased.

Steven noticed this and smiled. “You are a sex bench and that is what you will always be.”

“Yo, how’s it going?” Alex turned around on the couch to greet Zahir who had just left his room to grab some food.

“It’s going.”

“Wanna watch a game?”

Zahir stared into the fridge. He had no appetite and yet he was hungry. “Nah I’m good.”

“It’s the Colorado Stallions against the Florida Bulls.”

“I’ll pass.”

Alex rested his arm and head on the backrest of the couch. “Whatshisname is playing too. Travis, right?”

Zahir grabbed a slice of bread and closed the fridge. “Sorry. Not feeling it today.”

“Anything wrong?”

Zahir stopped. Was now the time to tell his flatmate?

“You’ve been acting weird since you’re off work,” Alex pointed out.

Zahir winced. He had told Alex that he was on vacation, but in truth Zahir had already quit.

“You never come out of your room anymore,” Alex continued. “You don’t meet with friends.” He furrowed his brow as he eyed the slice in Zahir’s hand. “You don’t even have proper dinner.”

“I’m fine.”

“If anything is eating at you, you can tell me, you know.”

“Thanks, but it’s nothing.” Zahir entered his room and closed the door.

Steven lowered himself on Zahir’s back. Like every session, his client was on the ground on all fours.

He could tell that adding hypnosis to their MINT sessions had a positive effect. Zahir was much more relaxed and had an easier time supporting Steven’s weight.

Yet, his progress had plateaued. He could more or less fully perform the function of a sex bench without getting tired, but none of the physical changes had started.

“Have you told your flatmate yet?” Steven wanted to know.

Zahir inhaled sharply.

This was all the reaction Steven needed. There was no need to bring up what Zahir might interpret as a failure and Steven decided to change the topic. “How is your body feeling?”

Zahir thought for a moment. “Stiff.”

“No wonder, it’s all made of wood.”

Steven saw Zahir’s gaze move towards his human arms. Disappointment crept over his client’s face.

“Remember: Change begins in the mind,” Steven repeated his mantra. “You are already an object, your body simply doesn’t know it yet. Do not look for validation in physical changes.”

Zahir breathed in. “Right, right, yeah.”

Steven narrowed his eyes at the reply. He fished out his notebook and began writing something down. Then he dropped the pen to the ground in front of Zahir. “Oh crap, can you hand me that?”

“Sure.” Zahir began to unfold one of his arms to grab the phone.

“No.” Steven put an arm on Zahir’s shoulder, causing him to freeze. “You are an object. You do not move.”

“But—”

“It was a test.”

“So, I failed?” Zahir’s disappointment was audible.

“There is no failure in this,” Steven reassured his client. “But if you want to move your transformation along, you need to internalize the mantra. Once you have entirely assumed the identity of an object, the process completes soon after.”

“Urgh, again?” Alex groaned as the commercial break started.

He and Zahir were currently watching a game show. Zahir decided to approach being an object in his flatmate’s vicinity slowly, simply sitting on the couch and practising getting into the mindset of an immobile object. If Alex had noticed Zahir’s stiff and unmoving posture, he didn’t show it.

“Let me switch to the weather real quick.” Alex looked around for the remote, then saw it on the table next to Zahir. “Can you hand me the remote?”

Zahir didn’t turn his head. “Uh… no.”

“Huh?”

“I can’t move.”

Alex was alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Zahir smiled. “Everything is fine.”

Alex’s face bunched up in confusion. “What?”

“I…” Zahir gulped. “I’m an object.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m seeing a therapist to help me be an object. You know, like MINT.”

Alex furrowed his brow and stared at Zahir for a couple seconds. “You’re joking, right?”

Zahir’s smile faded. “No.”

“But… Why would you want to become an object?”

“I already am an object.”

Alex looked him up and down. “You don’t look like one.”

Zahir closed his eyes. “Please, can you treat me like one?”

“That’s weird.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Alex gestured at Zahir and then stopped. “I don’t get why you wanna be an object.”

Before he knew it, Zahir stood up and shouted. “Because I am an object!” He panted. “Okay?”

When there was no reply from Alex, Zahir looked down at his body and ran to his room.

“I have a question,” Zahir chimed up below Steven.

“Go ahead.”

“Does talking to people hinder my transformation?”

“Not at all.”

“Why not?”

“There’s multiple reasons,” Steven began. “First, you can keep as many senses and abilities as you want when turning into an object. Incomplete transformations are uncommon, but not unheard of. As long as you believe you can still do these things, or that they are natural to you no matter the form, they should not affect your progress.”

“Okay.”

“And second, you will always have a human mind, even if your body changes into a piece of furniture entirely. You will still have thoughts and words are really just thoughts given a voice.”

“I see.”

“Feel free to interact with others as much, or as little, as you want.”

“Thanks.”

“Why do you ask?” Steven had a hunch. “Finally talked to your flatmate?”

“It… happened.”

“And how did he take it?”

Steven was half surprised to see Zahir not shrugging as a response. His instincts as an object are settling in.

“Not great, but…” Zahir recalled. “I think he was more confused than anything else.”

“And how has that affected your time together?”

“I spend my days in my room.”

“Mmh.”

“Is that bad?”

“It is what it is,” Steven shrugged. “The important thing is that you told him.”

A knock on the door.

Zahir was on the ground, assuming his usual position. These days he barely left his room. Most of his metabolic processes had slowed down, meaning that he didn’t even need to go to the toilet or get food as often anymore.

He heard Alex’s voice. “Everything all right?”

Zahir took a few moments to reply. “Yeah.”

“Do you wanna hang out?”

“No.”

There was silence for a few moments before Alex continued. “I’m sorry about how I reacted, but… You’re still my mate, okay?”

Zahir thought to himself that he was an object now and not a mate. But did these things have to be mutually exclusive?

“I bought some minced beef to make chili con carne,” Alex continued. “Want some?”

Chili con carne, Zahir’s favourite dish. He felt bad. “I’m not hungry.”

Several seconds passed.

“Okay…” was Alex’s only reply.

“Well,” Steven got up from Zahir and sat down on his chair, jotting down some notes. “You’re making good progress.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Steven looked at Zahir who was still on the ground. “Talking to your flatmate really did help.”

Zahir didn’t reply but smiled.

“All right then, I think that’s it for today.” Steven put his notebook away and put on a knowing smile. “Do you think you can get up?”

Then he saw it, the moment he was looking for so long, the turning point in every MINT process. Once reached, the MINT was an almost guaranteed success, unless the client changed their mind, of course.

Zahir was confused at first. Why would he get up? He was an object. Then the realization hit that he had to get home. And then finally, confusion returned to his face when his body wasn’t moving as he tried to get up.

Zahir’s eyes widened when his gaze fell on his arms. Both the upper and lower portion had merged together and assumed a rectangular shape. The same was true for his legs. His limbs had turned into wood.

He stared at his body for a little bit more, not believing what he saw. This was the moment that he was looking for so long and now it had finally happened.

In his client’s face Steven could see both euphoria and the weight of the realization that there was no turning back now. Zahir had reached the final stage of acceptance. He was now an object in mind and his body was quickly following suit.

Finally Zahir looked up and wordless joy dominated his entire face. Steven could see that his eyes were starting to water as well.

Steven smiled as well. Sure it was a job, but helping people become what they wanted to be was something that gave him purpose.

Suddenly Zahir’s face straightened up again as he tried to control his emotions. “I shouldn’t seek validation in the physical transformation,” he echoed Steven’s words.

“It’s okay,” Steven reassured him. “Joy is the strongest catalysator for the MINT process.”

The grin returned to Zahir’s face. After a few seconds he looked up at Steven again. “Does that mean I can stay here now?”

Steven put on a warm smile. “Let’s not rush things. Become comfortable with your changing body before we put you in a new environment. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”

Zahir looked almost disappointed.

“It also gives you an opportunity to say goodbye to your flatmate,” Steven offered.

Zahir thought for a moment, then nodded.

Alex was so kind as to pick Zahir up from Steven’s place.

It felt odd being carried by his friend. And yet, it felt good, like this was the only way for Zahir to be moved around.

Alex put his flatmate down in the hallway as he closed the door behind him and got out of his street clothes.

When he was done, he knelt down to Zahir’s eye level. “What should I do with you?”

“That is up to you,” Zahir replied. “I’m an object.”

“I looked it up, you know. What it means to be an object and stuff.” Alex gathered his thoughts. “You really want me to treat you like I would treat an inanimate object?”

“Yes, please.”

“I… I would empty your room, then, to make space for my next flatmate.”

“Sounds reasonable.”

“What about your stuff?”

“You can do what you want with it.” Zahir remembered something. “I left a copy of my testament in the drawer of my desk. Everything in my room belongs to you now.”

A pained smile formed on Alex’s face. The word testament probably didn’t sit right with him, but what else should the will of a person that would never again communicate with the rest of the world be called?

“Okay.” Alex thought for a long moment. “Mind if I move you into the living room?”

“Not at all.”

“You can still watch movies this way,” Alex offered.

“Sure.” Zahir thought for a moment. “You can use me as a footrest if you want.”

“But, aren’t you, like, a sex bench? Wouldn’t that mess with your MINT process?”

“No, as long as I’m used it’s fine.”

“All right.” Alex stood and picked up Zahir to carry him to the living room.

“Today we’ll have a guest,” Steven announced as he carried Zahir into the room next to the one where they had their therapy sessions. Unlike the therapy room, this one was properly stocked with all sorts of items needed for sex play, with shelves full of toys and other utensils such as gags and ropes.

“Oh?” came Zahir’s reply.

Steven put his client down on the ground, facing into the room. “Today you will be properly used.”

“Really? Like—”

“Like a sex bench would, yeah.”

Steven saw excitement in Zahir’s face. He checked his watch. “He should be here any moment.”

Suddenly Zahir showed concern. “Am I ready for that?”

Steven looked down at Zahir. He knew why his client was asking. While Zahir’s transformation had continued, it was impossible to mistake him for anything but a human. His limbs had turned entirely into wooden legs. His back had developed the soft red leather padding and his shoulders and hips had grown rectangular extensions with padding on the top to support the knees and elbows of the person lying on him.

The rest of his body was still that of a man. He had a head and neck and even a fully stocked butt and nether region on the other end. There was also still a belly and chest on his underside. Still, this was a lot of change for one day.

“Of course,” Steven finally said. “Remember, you are already a sex bench.”

A smile formed on Zahir’s face but it wasn’t the smile of someone being complimented, but of someone being proud of themselves.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Steven’s date had arrived.

“Hey there. Glad you could come.” Steven let the man in.

“Of course. It’s good to see you.”

“I hope it isn’t too weird.” Steven guided the man to the room. To test his clients properly, he often invited someone over for a sex date. While many naturally declined, some others were actually excited due to the novelty of it.

The man stopped when he saw Zahir on the ground. “Wow, that’s not what I imagined.”

“What do you think?” Steven asked. “You still up for it?”

“Sure.” The man took a few steps around Zahir to investigate him. “And you? Are you fine with me lying on top of you?”

“Of course,” Zahir proudly exclaimed. “I’m just a fuck bench, sir.”

“Good morning.” Alex made his way towards the bathroom.

He stopped when he didn’t hear a reply and walked over to Zahir.

His flatmate had turned into a sex bench almost entirely. He no longer had a torso, or hips, or even a head. For a moment Alex feared his friend had turned completely.

Then he arrived at the front of Zahir and saw that he still had a face.

“Zahir…”

“Ah sorry,” His flatmate finally replied. “I think I was lost in thought.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Zahir thought for a moment. “How do I look?”

“You still have a face, but that’s literally about it.”

“I think it’s time for me to…” Zahir trailed off.

“Do you want me to drive you to your therapist?”

“Yeah.”

Alex tried to fight back tears. “You were an amazing flatmate, you know that?”

“Mmh.” Zahir smiled.

“I’ll miss you.”

“You can come visit anytime you want,” Zahir offered.

“You too.” Alex attempted a joke.

Both men laughed.

Neither of the two said anything.

After some seconds, Alex gave Zahir a hug.

“Good morning,” Steven greeted his objects as he entered the therapy room.

It was a new day and he was preparing everything for his first client.

He froze when he didn’t hear Zahir’s reply. The man-turned-sex-bench had moved in a couple of days ago and added to Steven’s collection. Every day he would greet Steven back.

Until today.

Steven approached Zahir and walked to his front.

There was no face. Zahir had completed his transformation overnight. He was no longer distinguishable from an ordinary, inanimate object.

Steven smiled and patted Zahir on his back.

“Congratulations.” He affectionately ran his thumb over Zahir’s leather. “I hope your new life is everything you wanted.”

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