Plastic Dreams

Part One: One Year Ago — The Seed

Dr. Levant’s Office

Alena sat stiffly on the edge of the couch, her dark hair tucked behind her ears, nails short, bare face flushed from shame.

“It was… intense,” she murmured, eyes avoiding Dr. Levant’s. “I was in this pink room. Neon lights. Plasticky everything. I looked in the mirror and… I had these huge fake tits. Lips like balloons. I was giggling. Dumb. Blonde.”

Dr. Levant remained quiet, calm, writing nothing.

Alena’s voice cracked. “But I wasn’t scared. I was… smiling. Saying dumb shit. Letting guys touch me. I remember thinking: This is who I’m supposed to be.”

She looked up, startled by her own words.

Dr. Levant gave the faintest nod. “And when you woke up?”

Alena hesitated. “I… missed it.”

A long silence.

“You’ve mentioned fantasies like this before,” the doctor said gently. “It’s possible your subconscious isn’t trying to shock you. Maybe it’s inviting you.”

Alena blinked.

“Into what?” she whispered.

Dr. Levant smiled.

“Into becoming Allie.”

Part Two: One Year Later

Same office. New woman.

She came in late, apologizing with a voice that bubbled like champagne. Her walk was unsteady on absurdly tall clear heels, her posture perfect, breasts bouncing unnaturally with each step. Platinum blonde hair, teased and curled, flowed like a synthetic waterfall down her back. Her lips were overfilled, shiny and heart-shaped, and her makeup was pornographically precise.

Her nails, long and glittery pink, clacked against her rhinestone-studded phone as she waved at Dr. Levant with a squeal.

“Hiii, Doccy! Like, OMG, it's been forever, right?!”

Dr. Levant managed a smile. “Hello, Allie.”

She crossed her legs with a practiced flourish, her miniskirt rising high enough to show the lace top of her stockings.

Allie giggled.

“So, like, you’ll never believe this—but that dream? It was sooo totally prophetic!”

Dr. Levant arched a brow. “Tell me.”

Allie twirled a strand of hair and leaned forward conspiratorially. “So, like, I got laid off? And I was super depressed and just... bleh. But then this guy I was seeing, Chad—he was all, ‘Why don’t you just, like, let go of all the boring stuff and be hot for a living?’ And I was like... duh? Yes?!”

She giggled, shaking her head so the big plastic earrings rattled.

“Anyway, fast forward a year, and now I’m like, totally Allie. I do cam stuff, have like four sugar daddies, and I literally haven’t read a book in, like, eleven months. My job is being a hot, dumb little bubble bimbo and I fucking love it.”

Dr. Levant leaned back. “And the transformation? How did that begin?”

Allie laughed, higher-pitched than she had even imagined in her dream.

“Oh my gawd. Okay. So first, the lips. Obvi. I couldn’t even think straight with these new lips. Then my boobies—700ccs, babe!—and then, like, I got addicted. New nose, brows lifted, hairline moved, implants everywhere.”

She paused and wiggled in her seat, clearly turned on by her own recounting.

“It’s not even just the body. It’s the brain too. I train myself every day. Affirmations, bubble-speak, vocabulary drills. Like, every time I say something smart, I get buzzed down there.” She winked. “Negative reinforcement works wonders.”

“And you’re happy like this?”

“Oh-em-gee, yes. I literally wake up horny. All I need is dick, makeup, and compliments.” She clapped excitedly. “I’m, like, finally living my truth. And it’s soooo pink.”

Dr. Levant observed her. “Do you remember the woman you used to be?”

Allie tilted her head, then pouted in a way that felt practiced.

“I remember her, like, in a movie? Black-and-white, super boring, always tired. Ugh. She thought she was special ‘cause she could do taxes.”

A giggle.

“I’m special ‘cause my pussy’s perfect and my giggle makes wallets open. Who wouldn’t want that?”

A beat passed.

Then, quieter, Allie added, “It feels good to be wanted all the time, y’know?”

Dr. Levant looked at her client, who had once been Alena—serious, ambitious, emotionally tangled.

Now she was Allie.

And Allie didn’t tangle. She just bounced.