Another day dawns...

Well I'm subless again having released my online toy so that she can focus on moving to the U.S. and having mentored my other salubrious friend into a state she feels is able to bend over on her own two feet and no longer (for the moment) needs mentoringness.

So - here I am... I think I'll get along to a munch or something... any suggestions and invites welcomed.

Part five

Bobby Joe woke up with a man cupping the back of her head. She felt great, like totally stress free for the first time in ages.  The man said, “Are you OK? You were having a seizure, are these your meds?” Holding up the half chewed packet.  Bobby Joe giggled and said, “Thank you.”  She got up and fell back down into the man’s arms. He offered to call an ambulance but Bobby, riding the codeine high thought she was really fine.  She had never felt this fine before.  She got up and thanked the man again.  He left and she got back to work clumsily hanging up one of each colour of the catsuits.  She picked up her clothes and folded them. She was too out of it to remember that she was wearing one with nothing under it.  The remaining two customers of the day didn’t mind at all.

7pm came and Bobby Joe walked over to shut up the shop. She was walking up on the balls of her feet again, back arching headache returning and starting to sober up.  She also felt herself starting to lock up again so took another two pills and drank some water.  It tasted sweet so she went back for another drink and sat on the counter to take a rest. When she woke up it was dark out. She slid off the counter into a standing position and started for the door. Each step made her more stiff, more exhausted. By the time she got to the shop window she was done.   Locked solid, posed like a sprinter breaking the finish tape with her chest, but sound asleep standing in the shop window wearing the transparent catsuit.

A few stopped to look and take pictures with their phones that night but none guessed that she was anything other than a sexy mannequin.  Mike had gotten the help message hours earlier.  He could see the shop security footage from an app on his phone and had decided to let Bobby Joe suffer a little for her misuse of his cream.

The next day Bobby Joe woke up in the display window.  Still frozen still in that see through catsuit. Mike was behind the counter. The shop door opened and Jimmy came in and greeted Mike warmly.  Mike explained there had been a mistake and the cream was proving difficult to pass import rules. Jimmy was understanding and Mike walked him to the front of the shop. They stopped to talk right behind Bobby Joe.  Mike rubbed her ass and asked Jimmy to feel the material. He did and Mike asked if he liked the suits.  He added that Bobby Joe had chosen them and with that Jimmy said that she was very cool.  Bobby Joe tried hard to call out or turn to see them and the effort left her dizzy and light headed her breathing now too shallow to be observed. Mike said, “You know Jimmy, I think Bobby Joe has a crush on you.” Jimmy blushed and replied, “I’d never have a chance with her, she’s so cool.” Mike smiled and said, “I think if she were here, with us right now, she might disagree.” Jimmy smiled shaking his head and went on his way. Stopping outside the shop to look over the suit Bobby had picked out and the quite nice mannequin he didn’t remember ever seeing before.

Mike said, “Do I need to tell you how wrong it was to take that cream? I guess not, ...well outside of near lethal levels of opiates you are stuck there until all the toxins wash out of your system. There is a chance of course that this level won’t be able to leave your system with you lacking the ability to urinate. We’ll se how you go over the next few days OK.” Giving her ass check a firm little pat for good measure.

Body Sculpture part four

Bobby ran home. When she got there she was totally exhausted and got into bed. The alarm rang an hour later.  She caught a look at her form getting out of the shower, she looked stronger, more taught more pert than ever - almost balloon like in roundness.  She decided to add another coat of cream.  This would blow Jimmy away and they would be lovers forever she imagined while rubbing the cream in.

Getting to the shop was a struggle and she opened up fifteen minuets late. Stiff and aching she thought she must be getting a bad cold.  She rang the café two shops over and asked them to bring her a coffee and ham and cheese. Bobby Joe unpacked the boxes Mike had left on the floor the night before.  He rarely came into the shop during business hours.  The first box semi opaque cotton Lycra catsuits. Inside their plastic wrap the metallic shine was like xmas wrapping.  She felt a twinge in her back as she was squatting over the boxes. Leaving them to one side she restocked the shelves with protein powder and other small buckets of dietary supplements. She hadn’t noticed but her face muscles had been contracted so far she now had a fixed wierd Hollywood smile, an odd sight on this slowly transforming Goth chick. She returned to the catsuits and took one out to hang up.  It looked impossibly small. She had sourced them from a Chinese manufacturer and felt a little panicked looking at the size.  She looked through the rest of the batch and they were all marked Small-Medium-Large without the dot on them to show which was which, or maybe they were all the same size she thought? She hung it in the change room and cleared away the packaging. The door opened as she was walking back in and it was another customer asking about the Body Sculpture cream.  She explained that it was only a promotion at this stage and added his name to the list.  A little bit of droll escaped while she talked and her lips felt hard when she wiped it away with her hand.  All the customers who asked about the cream were buying HPLC bars,” …hmm… Where is my coffee and sandwich?” she thought.

Bobby looked around at the pills and powders that filled the shop… she wasn’t really hungry for powdered whey. She looked at the ready to eat bars – they were very hard to chew and tasted a bit of sick last time she tried one. Her eyes fell back on the open box of Body Sculpture cream and remembered she had lied and told Jimmy it was ready for sale.  She though she would just sell him one of the promos and offer to buy him lunch / dinner / have his children to make up for it.  She felt a little hot thinking about him again.  She remembered she was putting the new catsuits on display.  Now feeling very sleepy and desperate for that sandwich and coffee.  She drank one of the gaurana energy drink shots and closed up the shop to get her coffee and sandwich.

Customers were waiting outside when she came back.  She let them in and gave them all a tube of cream with their purchase just like the shop computer dictated.  The coffee seemed to help and the sandwich was gone in seconds.  Bobby Joe was still hungry, stiff and her headache was getting worse, now it felt like a toothache or something. She remembered the warm feeling of strength and power the cream had given her.  One more couldn’t hurt, could it? Bobby Joe grabbed the second last tube, stripped off and dashed into the small curtained change room madly rubbing the cream all over herself. She caught a glimpse in the mirror. She looked very good, fitness model good, and happy. She looked again, she was smiling and couldn’t stop. She felt her face it was hot and very hard. Her whole body was hardening and breathing was starting to get difficult.

The shop door opened and Bobby called out “Just a minute” her teeth clenched it was difficult to force out the sound.  In haste she had stripped off on the way to the change area and all that was in reach was the semi opaque purple metalised catsuit. She slipped it on easily. She was relieved to be wrong about the size problem, but it did cling.  No time to check it Bobby dashed out with a clenched “Can I help you Ma’am?” Sometimes you got these customers, carers looking for supplements for the infirmed. Bobby grabbed the hospital formula, rang up her purchases but did not give the woman the last tube. “That’s for Jimmy” she thought. It took two goes to get the change out of the register, Bobby Joe’s fingerss starting to cramp and lock up. The slight breeze from the door opening as the female customer left stung her eyes.  Bobby had lost the ability to blink. With a bit of effort she put in some eye drops and felt much better if overly jerky. 

Some more symptoms had Bobby Joe a little worried. Her back was arching more and more thrusting her chest forward and ass out. She could see her very erect nipples clearly through the Lycra with a purple metallic sheen highlighting their outline. Her legs were hard and pushing out and she was tottering around on the balls of her feet. Bobby’s arms started to pull back like she was pulling and invisible stretcher behind her, all her muscle flexing at once.  She was now concerned that she may have used too much cream. The cream was still wet and waxy on her skin, she wondered how long it would take to completely sink in?  She guessed that it would probably get worse and she would pass out if she didn’t do something about her breathing.  The speed dial on the shop phone went to Mikes’ mobile.  It took quite a few tries to punch the button with the back of her locked fingers. It rang for thirty seconds before going to voicemail. She said, “Mike we have a, a, …a, bad reaction to the cream, can… …I need you to come to the shop as soon as you can.” She didn’t hang up just let the voicemail cancel. The effort of talking had left her light headed as her breathing became faster and shallower.

Bobby’s mind racing she thought ”muscle relaxant”. In her bag she had some strong pain killers the doctor had prescribed for cramps. He had warned her to be careful as they were quite strong muscle relaxants. Her bag, her clothes and the box of catsuits were on the shop floor between the counter and the dressing room. She, bending backward impossibly far now had no chance of picking them up. She thought, the next customer would help.  She waited but Mike didn’t ring and no customers came in. She heard a loud pop from her shoulder and felt them move a little further back. Then a few clicks from her back as it slowly bent her over backwards a little more.  She thought she “it’s now or never” throwing herself on the shop floor, face first into her bag she searched furiously for the painkillers.  Pulling them out with her lips she rolled onto her back, or at least her shoulders.  Her back now arched up off the floor she gnawed on the packet until she got threw to the pill inside. She ate one and some of the packet and lay there for five minutes. It didn’t seem to be working so she ate her way threw the packaging and three more pills. Five more minutes and she felt much better. Still almost frozen though, she ate threw two more pills and passed out.

Body Sculpture part three

It was a slow day, Jimmy had not come in and Bobby Joe had waited an hour after closing to lock up. She was feeling very tired but decided to wait in vane for Jimmy.   Walking home took twice as long as yesterday. Her body feeling like lead, she forgot to buy food and just went straight to bed at 4pm. She slept all through the night and woke at about 3am, very hungry with a persistent headache. She looked through the cupboards but could not find anything she wanted to eat. Feeling very hungry she grabbed a hand full of change, her keys and headed out. She was on the street before she realized she was only wearing her satin pajama singlet top and shorts.  She felt so hungry now she didn’t care and walked down to the 7/11 to get a chicken sandwich. The Pakistani man always gawked at her when she came in but this time was smiles and politeness when she paid. Bobby caught a look at her reflection and saw her nipples showing through the satin top. Embarrassed she quickly left and ate the sandwich in the way home.  It was still dark and she was still hungry when she got home so she turned around and went back to the 7/11. The only place for miles that would be open at this early time.

Back at the 7/11 the counter staff was nowhere to be seen.  Bobby Joe tapped on the counter with a hot dog in her hand. She couldn’t wait, she started eating it and tapped the bell.  Quickly the counter staff ran out of the toilet and rushed up to serve her. As he passed she noticed a very large erection under his sweatpants.  He said, “Uh… $4.50 please” Bobby didn’t have $4.50. she had maybe $1.50 in silver. She had already taken a bite. The two looked at each other for a second and Bobby slowly took another bite. The man behind the counter watched her chew like he was watching a football final. Transfixed and exhilarated. She finished the hot dog and started to leave without paying. The man said “Wait, Miss” and locked the automatic door. He came around the counter and gave her a banana. She peeled it very slowly and ate it suggestively for him. She walked around the counter and unlocked the door. With a little hand wave she said “bye-bye” as she handed him the banana skin and took another chicken sandwich and bag of cheese cubes as she walked out.  The man ran quickly back into the bathroom.

Bobby Joe had finished the second chicken sandwich and was feeling out of breath and very tired on the way home. She went upstairs and went to bed again. She slept for another five hours before getting up to go shopping.  She was getting a few admiring looks but nowhere near the intoxicating attention she had gotten earlier.  For the first time in her life she bought makeup that wasn’t just black or white. After shopping Bobby passed back by Mike’s Body building supplies for another tube of cream.  She took two and put them in her bag.  She felt heavy, every movement seemed to be an effort but she looked incredible, pert toned, even her posture seemed to be getting better. The walk home totally exhausted her and she fell asleep without eating again.

Waking up at 3am super hungry she got dressed and grabbed her purse and keys. She stopped at the front door and took off her clothes.  Searching through her wardrobe she found her silk stockings, red and black satin and lace suspenders and bra set.  She looked for something that would show them off but was frustrated how concealing all her clothes seemed now.  The hunger was punishing. In a humph she walked out without her keys, money or clothes other than the red and black bra panties, stocking and suspenders set and black heels. She clip-clopped down to the 7/11 feeling naughty.  She stood in the middle of the store and seductively sucked on a tofu sausage straight out of the heater.  She was almost finished when the counter staff popped her head up.  It was a different attendant on Mondays.  The young woman watched Bobby Joe caress the sausage and said “$4.50 please.” Bobby looking a little embarrassed said, “I’m sorry, I thought… I mean I didn’t bring any money.”   The young woman looked a little confused before saying “It’s OK honey, you can pay me later.” She walked around the counter and gave Bobby Joe a kiss on the cheek and added, “Come back soon OK?”

Body Sculpture Part two

More customers came back asking for Mike’s cream. They all looked good, like they had gained 10% or 15% muscle. They looked good all over thought Bobby but she had to tell them it was just a promotion and she could not sell it to them without a price or product code.  They were all walking a little funny, like just getting off a horse or something.  She wrote a note to Mike to order in a box and left e notes on the customer profiles that would email them as soon as it came in. Bobby noticed that the promotion code was now set to all customers. Usually it was one free product for every nine the customers bought. It was always something Mike was trying to get rid of, old stock, discontinued or recently banned stuff, but this product was different. 

Jimmy Johnson came in and asked Bobby Joe about the cream.  He had hear others talking about.  Bobby Joe looked for a manufacturer to try to source it herself and couldn’t find anything other than the name “Body Sculpture” and “Promotional – not for individual sale”. The toothpaste type tube looked to be similar to a hundred other products and gave no hint about its origins. Bobby Joe gave it up as a lost cause.  She had a major crush on Jimmy but he had never stopped to talk before. Just in and out usually without eye contact. Bobby opened his profile and told him she would send out an alert as soon as the next shipment came in. As usual Jimmy said thanks and walked out without hesitation. She watched his ass closely as he left. “Oh god he’s hot” she said out loud as the shop door closed. 

Bobby Joe is bi, Jimmy’s boyish face, quiet politeness and chiseled hard body rang all her bells hard.  Bobby looked back at his open profile.  He had a collarme account and many female friends.  All of them fitness junkies.  She guessed he went for that type and sighed a little. Still holding the tube she wondered how good it really was.  Customers who had spend way too long in tanning beds had come in looking young and tight skinned, softer clients now ripped after only one day. Almost without thinking she rubbed some on her arm.  It was warm and soothing. She tried to recap it but the promotional tube didn’t reseal. She sticky tapped it shut and continued the rest of the day. At 7pm she was packing up and noticed her left arm looked different. She walked to the big mirror in the front of the shop and compared them. Yep, left arm was looking very toned, right one, not so much.

Thinking of Jimmy she locked the door and applied the rest of the lotion in the change room, got dressed and went home.  The next day was Saturday, a late start and a half day trading. On the walk home she felt warm, strong and full of energy. Half way home her legs began to tire. Strange, that had never happened before that she could remember. That night she dreamt of Jimmy she woke up very well rested and very satisfied.  In the shower she noticed something hard on her shoulder. She got out of the shower and looked in the steamy mirror. There was no doubt about it, she was very well defined. She looked over her entire body, squeezing her not taught physique, giggling with delight. Bobby Joe put on her tightest t-shirt and shortest micro skirt, it was autumn and she would be cold but just couldn’t help it. She ran to work and got in early. She opened up the shop and waited. Jimmy would come in today and notice her for sure.

After 20 minutes with no customers Bobby Joe started looking at the stack of promotional cream. It’s a free trail so it’s OK to use one more… quick as a flash she was naked in the change room hastily applying the cream.  The shop door opened and a customer came in. Bobby just called out. Take a look around – be with you in a minute.” She felt sure it was Jimmy and finished her coating and dressed in seconds quickly.  It wasn’t Jimmy.  Bobby served the customer as that familiar warmth spread through her body again. The feeling and the thought of meeting Jimmy all taught and pert gave her dozens of mini fantasies. She stood behind the counter for another few minutes daydreaming before she decided to do another customer profile update.

She opened Jimmy’s profile and read through what he had written. “Wow” she though “He is so creative.  I would like to do these things with him…” she day dreamed for another half hour or so before finishing the profile sweep and updating a few customers.  She closed the app and them opened it again.  The cream was really starting to work. All her muscles were flexing now and it was becoming difficult to more them.  She waddled over to the mirror.  She looked better than she ever had before. She didn’t notice her face becoming stretched into a fake smile. She waddled back over to the counter and sent Jimmy and email alert saying the product had come in. It hadn’t but she really needed to see him. She felt tired all of a sudden. Her heart was pounding and she was sweating. She sat down and opened a bottle of water. Her posture, always was good but now it was pose perfect. Her movements were becoming stilted and unnatural like body builders in a competition. She didn’t care, she looked fantastic.

Body Sculpture

Bobby Joe was a strange site working behind the counter at Mike’s body building supplies. She was pale, her body soft and round her clothes dark and Gothic. Sometimes she would even wear Steampunk to work. Mike didn’t care; he had seen her hanging out listening to her cheap mp3 player in front of the local gym every day pretending to read and hired her because she obviously liked fit people. He reasoned that the customers would feel better about themselves if the shop staff liked to interact with them and weren’t any competition. As she chatted with the men and women builders she had no trouble talking them into posing in an empty spot in front of the store window as they considered areas they could work on. She liked that they were almost all attention-seeking exhibitionists. Store video captured in high resolution the shop visitors and they often admired themselves on the monitor and large mirrors. The pay was bad but Bobby Joe really liked to look at the customers. That morning a new cream was being displayed on the counter. Mike must have come in during the night to set it up. The “free trial” was selected by computer from the customer list. Mike’s regular customers got a free product with every large purchase. Mike’s mother was a nurse and he loved biology and chemistry which he studied along side art and sculpture at Uni. He loved to create but couldn’t really find a field he wanted to work in. He had bought the old shop and started in body building supplies with inheritance money. He had always liked the human form; especially muscles and he studied them both aesthetically and scientifically. The first two customers of the day were a husband and wife, they had come in together and the computer had flagged them to receive a free sample of Body sculpture cream. “One coat after morning shower the day before competition.” Was all that was written in the way of instructions, but that seemed clear enough. The day went on and nothing particularly eventful happened. The next day the couple came back in, very excited wanting to get more of the cream. They looked better somehow, younger, stronger and with more expression their faces. Boby Joe explained that the product was just a promotion at this stage and took a note to inform them when it came in full volume. Mike had developed the cream. After culturing up some bacteria, Mike had extracted the tetanospasmin, dissolved it in bee’s wax and formed a gel mixed with aloe. The cream soaked into wet skin as it dried forming a smooth barrier that shrunk as it lost moisture. The skin was protected and tightened at the same time. As the tetanospasmin slowly made it’s was through the thin layers of fat and into the blood it interrupted the neuromuscular release mechanism. The effect was two fold: The skin became tighter and smoother and the muscles, now unable to completely relax became much firmer and engorged with blood. Mike had invented the ultimate body shaping cream, but he had no intentions of marketing his creation. Bobby Joe liked muscles too. She didn’t mind exorcize, she walked to work everyday, she swam at the local pool several times a week. But like most things she did in her free time, they were mainly excuses to perve’ on others. She really liked the body building shop, so many fit boys and girls all just a little too eager to show off “problem areas” abs, ass, thighs, they seem to have very little modesty. At her request, Mike had imported some Tan-thru swimwear and competition posing costumes. She chose them all and it had increased the shop patronage by four times. She recommended Mike set up an online sales section but he just rejected it without discussion. In a lull, Bobby Joe was using the change room to check out her form. She often did this; she was happy with her look but didn’t have any drive to maintain the super lean bodies of her customers. She went back to the desk terminal and ran Mike’s special customer profile sweep. It was a crawler, looking trough facebook, myspace, Alt, Bondage, collarme, and other social networks for Australian profiles that matched the email addresses the customers gave. When time permitting she had been instructed to look through the unmatched customer records and compare them with a second DOB only result list. All the customers had social sites, but almost all had kinky profiles as well. The software showed their picture, their phone number was used as a customer reference and the software kept track of the things they bought, even the times and days they came in. Bobby Joe had thought it was a little weird but Mike said it was public information and no laws were being broken. A thought that gave her comfort as she trolled through their dirty little secrets.

End of part one

Part Four: This story begins at “The Installation” entry to my journal

Liz felt for them. She could see them jiggle as they fought to connect.  Liz hit the dryer fan and slid them both out of the shower space.  She took some photos and separated them, did some separate shots before trying a few position combinations. Liz thought about taking a ride on Bradley while Bree watched.  Locked in their PVC shrink wrap there was no way for them to stop her, and the sight of seeing her favorite torture victim the gallery ‘Boy’ the same way, locked in the throws of ecstasy was an image her mind’s eye could not look away from. She really wanted that proud erection of Bradley’s.  Bree started Humming “Muuu, wa-uh. Mu wa-uh.” Liz looked a little puzzled as to what she wanted. It was past three thirty and Jenny and ‘Boy’ hadn’t been fed or packed yet.  Mr. Jones was understanding but for the price he just paid he is expecting GOOD service.

Brad joined in “MaHa, wa-hu. Mahawaha!” Liz guessed they wanted to be let out. “You said you wanted this. You are exhibits now, I can’t let you out until you are bought.” Bradley and Bree shook their heads in tiny fast movements. The clear plastic wrap squeezed their every feature perfectly smooth. They looked as if they were liquid, Bree kneeling an arrested attempt to mount Bradley’s imprisoned head. Bradley on his back knees bent with a spectacular smooth shiny hard on. The plastic wrap allowed the two tiny movements but quickly overpowered them and returned their fixed pose, they both vibrated all over and started again with a very quite and muffle, but more urgent,  “mahawaha!” over and over until Liz said “Hot water? Oh, OK I’ll give you one more minuet. But only if I can ride Bradley.” To her shock both of them nodded tiny nods and said, “UhAy” through their frozen masks.

Liz slid the two back into the shower, turned on the hot water and stated a stopwatch.

After 40 seconds the heat softened the PVC outer skin and they started to move again. Slowly they crawled to each other, like two oversized clumsy kittens playing on the floor of the huge shower space. Liz turned off the water just before they reached each other. The young couple moaned loudly in protest but continued to move closer with a little more haste.  The thermo plastic glue inside the suits was soft and pliable, but it would soon harden again. Liz called out …arch your back Bradley!” and to her surprise he did, pushing his hips off the floor, raising his hard cock up to Bree’s mouth while she hugged him tight with both arms around the small of his back. Kneeling straddled just behind his head she pressed her pussy into his mouth hard. This shot was so perfect Liz turned on the cold water just as Bradley grabbed hold of Brees perfectly round shiny ass and the two locked almost instantly. Bradley’s lips on Bree’s pussy and the tip of his cock on hers as she embraced him.

Liz slid them out again this time still wet.  She tried to slip them apart but could not. Bradley’s face frozen in anticipation of Bree’s pussy but Bree’s face an open mouth smile, tongue poking the perforated mouth section out in a little mound. At first Liz thought she had missed the chance to ride Brad. But as she walked around then taking more shots she got an intense thrill as she saw how she could fit. Quickly Liz unbuttoned her summer dress and it fell to the floor. She slipped off her knickers and naked to her knee boots tried to sit on Bradley.  It was hard and smooth but the vinyl clung to skin and his cock would not slid in. Liz pinched Bree’s cheeks and some drool came out onto Bradley’s cock. Liz slid his cock up her ass with a loud groan. She pressed Bree’s face into her pussy and got a living mannequin double. Bree forced to eat Liz’s pussy and watch while Liz rode Bree's boyfriend Brad like a human vibrator. 

Liz was bouncing up and down screaming “Yes, yes, yes” in rapid fire with every stroke. Hair thrashing, chest heaving it was a violent act.  The sadistic thrill of forcing sex with paying customers, publicly (although the gallery blinds were closed and the sign still said “Back after Lunch” Liz knew she hadn’t locked the door) excited all three of them. Bree and Bradley were moaning and grunting but Liz couldn’t tell and didn’t care if they were happy or in pain. Thoughts of using Bree to get off when she was forced to watch Liz riding her man was an intoxication Liz had never felt before. This kind of thrill is very unique even for Liz the owner of the high-end porn gallery. The orgasm was building like a raging bull; Liz reached under to feel Bree’s perfectly conical breasts and pinched her left nipple hard, Bree gasped in pain and the small warm rush of air on Liz’s pussy made her cum wildly.  She got off and took a tissue to first wipe away her own cum and then wiped it back onto Bree’s tongue through the perforated mask. Then another tissue to wipe clean Bradley’s cock and wiped off on to Bree’s face.

Liz was ecstatic, she just stood there stripped to her black knee boots gazing at the couple on the floor.  Robbed of almost all sensation by the thick plastic catsuit, their minds over stimulated, but Bradley and Bree were unable to climax. Prolonged impossibly long at the edge of release, their liquid smooth forms were painfully beautiful to behold. Liz was snapped out of her trance but the sound of the gallery door closing. Suddenly Liz felt exposed, realizing she was standing in her own gallery like so many human works of art she had trapped in the past gave her a chill. She snatched her dress off the floor and called out, “…wait please, I’ll be out in second.” She threw the dress over her head and peeked around the screen that obscured the shower space from the rest of the Gallery floor. Mr. Jones was due at around 6 and it was already close to four. Liz saw that the gallery was empty.  She walked around and called upstairs “hello?” just to make sure but that only people inside were Her, Jenny and the gallery boy still separated on the glass coffee table, backs arced Jenny rode the boy like an front side piggy back. Their separating making them seem even more unreal, flawless and inviting. Liz was in a dream, just standing there full of endorphins, glowing, tingling, deeply pleased. She considered returning Mr. Jones $20K. She could afford to loose the money, but probably not the client. The phone rang and Liz tapped the hands free while she took out a collection of horse syringes and super wide bore needles she kept in a Tupperware container.

Liz glanced at the other things in her desk draw. The bondage models show run by the three men had given a little package when Liz bought Jenny.  It was a small bottle of alcohol essence and a silver strip of two Rohypnol pills. The instructions were: After your session is complete free the model’s mouth and give liquid. Wait 10 minuets and give first pill.  Wait 5 more minutes, check heart rate and pain response. If the rate is below 70bpm and there is little pain repose it is safe to release and dress the model if not check again in 5 minutes and give the second pill if needed.  The Model will be groggy but controllable. Take them to a public park and leave them on a bench with $20 for transport. They will wake in a few hours without any traumatic memories and should go home of their own accord. Liz read the note with interest as she Listened. It was Mr. Jones, “Er Hello liz? This is Mr. Jones, er I was looking through your gallery and I may want something more. Can I come by in a few minutes? Great. See you then.” He hung up without a single chance for Liz to answer.

In a panic Liz jabbed the syringe through the plastic covering Andrews, the gallery boy’s ass and slid it in. He made a sharp grunt as Liz pumped all the solution in and then drew the plunger in and out a few times before extracting the contents of his bowl. Liz poked a long thing plug in the hole and wiped it with a tissue.

The syringes were supplied in a kit supplied by a onetime gallery contributor Liz had only met online.  It came with the six PVC / Polycaprolactone suits and details instructions on preparation and care for living mannequins.  Once they were heated to soften and shrink the suit they could be posed, they were quickly cooled to lock them in place. Next and enema and a herbal mix to keep them sustained and calm for a few days.

Liz wondered how many a “few” were.  She jabbed Jenny who started wriggling and protesting.  Liz said, calm down, its just an enema. Liz was picking up the feeding syringes when Mr. and Mrs. Jones came in. This was a first. Liz had been serving Mr. Jones for several year and had guessed he lived alone.

Liz’s PC was making HDD noises and she lent over he desk to see the screen from the behind.  It was a file transfer.  Mr Jones said “I hope you don’t mind Dear.” Liz said “Just a minute I think I have a security problem. Mr Jones spoke up, “Ah, yes dear, that’s what I ment. Awfully sorry, but I walked in on you and our neighbors about half an hour ago. Well done I must say.” Liz was rocked, completely speechless. Mr. Jones went on to say. “I took the liberty of sending your camera footage to my email address.” Liz took a second to absorb before racing around the desk to see “Upload complete.” High speed cable internet is a wonderful thing.

For the first time in a long time the tables had turned on Liz.  Mr. Jones watched patiently for Liz to look up. “Ah, I see from your expression you are feeling a little venerable. Don’t worry I simply want to… …renegotiate our recent transaction.” He said with a smirk. Liz slowly responded “You want a refund?” Mr. Jones pushed his elderly wife gently forward as they walked around to stand closer to Liz, “Heavens no!  You have given me and my wife so much it just wouldn’t be right. Kitty this is Liz, she runs this gallery for us.” Liz corrected him “I own this gallery, nice to meet you Mrs. Jones” Mr. Jones smirked a little wider, “yes, about that.  It occurs to me you are in a bind.”  Liz replied “If you think I’m embarrassed about you watching me have sex I’m not.” A total and less than convincing lie. “Or that I’m worried you will distribute the image, I don’t care – it’s just more publicity.” Another lie, but more believable.

“Oh I see.” Said Mr. Jones in a slightly mocking tone. “And the kidnapping, drug use, exploitation and sex slavery?" He ran through the list calm and slow, savoring every syllable of his dominating words.  “Don’t fret my dear, we love you and we’ll take very good care of you.” Kitty his wife whispered in his ear. "Yes, quite right my love, enough dilly dallying.  Liz, be a doll.. and take out one of those lovely plastic suits."

Part three: (scroll down to “The Installation” for the first part of my journal story)

With her assistant ‘Boy’ now a part of a human mannequin sex sculpture, Liz wondered exactly how she would get the two out of the over sized shower space and into a crate for transport. Some of the gallery customers were still admiring Jenny and ‘Boy’ locked together, frozen in the last second of love making. Their PVC thermo plastic clear coverings held them in perfect form. It supported them and smoothed their skin to an impossible perfection as if they were life sized glass ballerinas. A man and a woman were the last to leave. They had been staring longingly since before the auction and were visibly struggling internally with their lust. Liz had an idea, “would you like to help me pack them for transport” she asked in a friendly way.  The couple were both very thankful for the opportunity to touch the living artwork.  

Liz asked them to slide the mat out of the shower space, pulling the interloculars with it.  Liz brought in a prefab standing crate and went up stairs for the packing beans.

The young couple had carefully slid Jenny and ‘Boy’ out of the shower space and were using ‘Boy’s chamois to buff them dry. Liz considered the situation.  Together they must weigh over 100Kg easy.  This would be difficult even for three people. Liz had an idea and asked the young helpful couple to stand back. She raised the tines of the walking forklift up under Jenny’s armpits. With a crisp pop Jenny lifted free.  She swayed a little hanging from the forklift, back arched impossibly, arms locked holding a neck now a meter away thighs still imprinted with the ‘Boy’ torso shape and face locked in exquisite passion. ‘Boy’ was equally matched. His hips and stomach still dented from his removed lover, muscled flexed, arms and mittens cupping the ass of his removed rider. His impressive erection maintained by the vacuum seal of the tough plastic jutted out like a strap on.

Liz could not resist, she got her camera and shifted the forklift but could not get a good position. Liz knew a few tricks about posing a photo. She lay ‘Boy’ down carefully on a glass top table and then lowered Jenny on top. She got some great shots and with no reflection from the table and the photo rotated 90` it truly looked like the lovers were floating in space, frozen in time. It was 2 o’clock before she knew it and apologized for keeping the young couple. “It’s very exciting, I’m Bree and this is my partner Bradley.” Liz shook their hands and there was a pregnant pause… “We were wondering…” Bree paused again, biting her lip and holding Liz’s gaze. “…we were wondering…” she said again and Bradley looked a little embarrassed. Not for the foolish repetition but for what they both wanted to ask. “May we…” said Bradley looking over at the two shiny figures aching to reach completion on Liz’s big glass coffee table.

Liz was late 40’s, a photographer for 15 years and a pornographic art gallery owner. Coy was not something she had good coping skills for. “Yes?!” she said in a tone she instantly regretted using on two wealthy regulars who had just given her 40 minutes of free labor…

The two helpers looked starry eyed and Liz guessed they wanted to fool around in the gallery. She said “Oh?, yes no problem. Just don’t make a mess or break anything please.” Liz continued prepping the container, filling it with a few empty boxes to fill space at the bottom and a bag of beans over that. The young couple were still looking at Liz.  She said, “You can go anywhere you like, I don’t mind.” Another little pause. “Can you …help… us?” Bree asked.  Liz was getting flustered, what did they want? “What?!” slipped out of Liz’s mouth in an even more regrettable tone. The two helpers looked a little hurt.  Liz went on, “How can I help?’ Bree said, “We want to be next… we would pay of course.” Liz thought she got it. “Oooh, right. Well I’m sorry to tell you I don’t know when I will get another life model in, or when I will get ‘Boy’ back from Mr. Jones.” Bradley said, “Oh, huh. No. We don’t want another life model.” Liz looked incredulous. “We want to be the models… …this time, I mean  today.” Bree finished Bradley’s sentence.

“Look, …ah… well…Ok I will be with you in half and hour or so I just need to get this squared away first.” But Liz’s words fell on deaf ears as the two stripped off their clothes on the way to the shower. Liz just ignored then and slid the crate to the base of the glass coffee table Jenny and ‘Boy’ were placed on.  Their super smooth glossy physiques were incredibly beautiful. Their one moment away from climax pose just made it simply perfect. Liz was feeling sad about loosing them as a piece.

Bradley had found Liz’s secret panel and taken two spare PVC suits. The shower was specifically designed to be quiet and hidden so it is no surprise that Liz didn’t hear the young couple dress in their suits, turn on the hot water and walk into the shower space. Just like Jenny and ‘Boy’ before them the young couple stated rough. Groping wildly as they fought for sensation through their thick plastic suits. Even as the hot water shrunk the PVC to skintight and rubbery and the thermo plastic became soft and sticky the pressure of once familiar lovers hands was not muffled by mittens and two layers of tough plastic wrap. It wasn’t long before that two had tried and failed penetration in every orifice.   They started to loose control, the forbidden pleasure, the frustrating lack of sensation, the building tension and shear heat from the water was all consuming. Bree took hold of Bradley’s cock with both mittened hands and Bradley scrambled around Bree’s Tight shiny plastic wrapped body to force his mittens into her pussy. The heat from the water was burning their skin and they both screamed “Uuuuh! Mmmmmf! Uh!” But the thick plastic limited their feeling and the mild burning was holding then back from the climax.

Liz heard their moans and rushed in. Bree’s pert breasts like beautiful perfect cones urged Bradley to suckle. Thrusting his head onto them he could not overcome the layer of perforated plastic covering his mouth. Bree still with a double hand hold pulled him closer and force her chest into her face. The crushing hurting them both and they moaned louder.  Liz could se the suits were almost perfectly clear now which meant the thermo plastic glue inside was soft and sticky.  She also knew that the high water temperatures must be extremely uncomfortable. Liz shut off the hot water as she got some shots of the young couple writhing and squirming. Bree gave up on Bradley’s cock and reached around and tried to put her mittened hand up his ass.  The two noticed the lack of water and hummed in protest. Liz said, “You will get burned if I leave the water on.”

The two feeling the stiffening of their skintight shiny catsuits redoubled their efforts to pleasure each other madly rubbing and mouthing each other parts.  Bradley knelt down and could not stand again. Bree in ever more jerky movements pushed the back of his head into her lap. She humped his face in a slower and slower action. Their shrunken suits were cooling off and they would soon be totally immobilized.  In a burst of inspiration Bree pushed Bradley over backwards, supporting his weight as she knelt over him trapping his head between her knees. She tried to move her mouth down to his proud erection but their suits locked up half way down.

Part two: (scroll down my earlier journal post to read how this story began)

The winner of the auction was and older man. Mr. Jones was kind of thin, light framed I guess, well dressed even if he was decades out of date, it seem to suit his white hair and curled mustache.

Liz ordered ‘Boy’ to clear out the losing bidders from the living art gallery.  Mr. Jones said he didn’t mid if they stayed and watched. The group of fifteen of so milled around in a loose circle as ‘Boy’ was instructed to bring Jenny back into the shower cubical. ‘Boy’ carefully slid Jenny’s mat off the display table and onto the walking forklift again.  He was worried that moving her suddenly would cause her to tip over, or worse split the skintight PVC coating that had her locked in that sexy crouching pose. He needn’t have worried.  The plastic covering Jenny was very tough, thick and although she could not change position or even facial expression she could wiggle and move her limbs out a little before the plastic pulled her back into position. Just enough to balance our absorb a fall if needed.

‘Boy’ slipped Jenny off the tines of the forklift, removed it and stepped back into the cubical to rotate Jenny to face front. Liz, the gallery owner shut the cubical door.  It opened inward and with no handle on the inside of the glass door ‘Boy’ knew he wasn’t coming out before the gallery customers had some fun with him.

“Strip!” was the stern command from Liz. ‘Boy did not like were this was going. Although he was an exhibitionist he had his fill of this being a human display when Liz had him trapped and objectified for her customers for three weeks without a break.

The Customers watched intently as ‘Boy’ stripped. Jenny watched too, she was happy not to be gawked at for the first time in four days. She was enjoying his tanned and lean physique.

While the customers watched the show, Liz opened a wall panel and reached into a secret space. She was careful not to let others see and pulled out a male form of the PVC/Polycaprolactone suit trapping Jenny. The only difference was this one had a sheath for his cock and balls. Jenny caught a look at the suit in Liz’s hands and guessed it must have come from nearby.

Liz threw the suit over the top of the high glass wall of the large shower area.  Andrew (the Boy) just let it fall to the ground. He stood their naked arms crossed and the customers drew in a little nearer. He really didn’t want to go back on display in the gallery.

Liz turned on the water in the hope it would inspire some action, but nothing. A few seconds passes and Liz walked up to the glass and whispered threw the door crack. Andrew shook his head.   The hot water running over Jenny had softened the thermo plastic enough to allow her to stand. Jenny took Andrew’s hand and said “It’s OK Boy. I really want you.” ‘Boy wasted no time and stepped through the side zip hole in his suit and positioned his cock and balls to fit in the oversized sheath. Like Jenny had been, ‘Boy’ was swimming in the opaque white suit with big clear eye panels and tiny nose and mouth perforations. The water hadn’t completely free Jenny. Her suit was feeling even tighter, but quite elastic. Overcome by lust she grabbed hold of his sheathed cock and tried to put it in her mouth. She pulled on it with all her might but could not flex the mouth inward enough to get her lips around it. Through the 5mm of PVC and thermoplastic glue ‘Boy could hardly feel Jenny’s efforts. Although the awareness of the situation had substantially strengthened his erection. Jenny stood and the two mashed together. ‘Boy’s’ suit shrinking fast in the hot water and Jenny’s suit becoming more flexible. The two ran their mittened hands over each other and tried to kiss and group furiously. ‘Boy’s suit was loosing its colour and turning transparent as it bushed the glue into his muscle creased and natural lines. Jenny seeing the transformation felt an overwhelming lust. The lack of feeling through the suits was holding them both at the height of arousal. Jenny jumped on to ‘Boy, wrapping her legs around him. She was desperate to feel his massive cock inside her. Everything they tried, thrashing around in the steaming hot water piqued the small crowds attention more. They had lost all inhibition and the most base animal instincts were driving them to a coupling prevented by two layers of thick unyielding plastic wrap. Jenny climbed higher on ‘Boy’s torso clenching his cock with her buttocks. Sliding it back and forth under the hole of her pussy so achingly close. They both threw their heads back in unison like a human tree splitting down the center. Liz knew this was it and snapped the water over to cold. Jenny and ‘Boy’ thrusted furiously into each other.  In just a second ‘Boy’s suit became perfectly clear.  The thermo plastic set on both of them.  They were locked together in the pose seconds before orgasm.

The customers all cheered and clapped. They stood there clapping for a full minute. Mr. Jones whispered in Liz’s ear again and Liz said, “Yes, but packing will take at least on hour.” Mr. Jones left and said he would be by at 6pm to collect the piece.

I have recently become interested in ASFR. So here is a story I wrote - maybe you can suggest an ending?

The Installation.

Jenny was out of work and looking through the local newspaper for a short-term job over the university break.   She looked through the first few pages, disheartened that they all wanted at least two years experience or were commission only. She got to the end, the last section, TV Film and Modeling.  She was half Indian half Fijian, shorter than average, a little curvy, fit but defiantly not a Model or TV hopeful.  There were the obligatory scam ads offering “portfolio” shots at bargain prices but a small ad near the end that caught her eye.

Fit young ladies of all sizes to model Orthopedic braces and posture aids, $100 per day. This seemed legit. It wasn’t much, but how hard could it be to do a medical catalog? She thought.

She emailed her scan from her license as per the ad and got a response straight away. It was just an address and a time, Level B1 155 Castlereagh St 7pm Friday.  She wondered if this was an interview or the shoot… she felt too shy to ask and decided to just go and take her chances. She got there at 6.30pm because she was anxious about being late and when she got in the old elevator the B1 button didn’t work. The doors opened again and the cleaner pushed the 9 button.  On the way up he noticed that no other buttons were push so he asked her what floor.  She said B1 and he said the elevator doesn’t go there anymore she had to take the stairs. She got off with him on 9 and walked through the fire stairs door. He called out “why don’t you take the lift back down to the ground?” but the fire door closed before she could catch it and she had to walk down 10 levels in her highest heels and tightest pencil skirt. She got to Level B1 still 20 minuets early and there were a couple of people hanging rigging and lights.  A man came over with a clipboard and handed it to her saying “sign this use of image release and fill in the insurance and your bank details on the next page.” She took the clipboard but in the dim light could not read the first page. The man just tapped his finger at the bottom and she signed in the box with the big ‘X’.  Two more women arrived and the Man gave them clipboards as well.

The only seat was a circular vinyl couch. Room enough for six or eight sitting in a circle with their backs to each other. On a folding table there were a few dozen clear plastic Orthopedic braces with clear straps and buckles. There was another table with half a dozen small electrical boxes and a bundle of wires. Jenny finished with the questions on the forms and looked up at the rigging being hung.  Two circles of lights, one small and one larger directly above the couch. Jenny guessed that the shoot would by here.  The man came over and collected Jenny’s forms as she watched two more Women come in. She thought that this must be the audition, why else would they need so many models? She felt a bit sad at the thought of perhaps not getting this job.

After the Man seated the new arrivals he returned to Jenny with a brace from the table. It was a brace for both arms. It’s clear plastic rigid form ran behind the shoulders and held the arms slightly bent in an open hug at shoulder height. The brace was split so it buckled one piece in front and the other at the back.  When the Man, now with a large digital camera around his neck, started to fit the front on but stopped. He said, “We’ll have to slip off your shoulder straps for this first shot they are in the way of the brace.” With that he took the back of the brace back as Jenny reluctantly slipped her arms out of her singlet top. The photographer quickly put the back of the brace on and clipped in the front. As he fixed the straps, Jenny noticed there was a very tall neck brace attached and it tilted her head far back as he fastened it.  She felt the rear of the brace on the back of her head and was startled when the front covered her lower jaw holding her head up and mouth shut. The riggers stared down from the lights and they started flashing as they checked them. The lights were coloured and not what Jenny expected for a medical catalog.  Some club music started playing behind her head and she felt something drop onto the couch behind her but could not turn around to see, fixed into the brace in a kind of waltz position.

The Photographer walked over to the table and picked up another brace. One of the riggers came over to Jenny and said “Close your eyes honey.” He sprayed her face with “Airbrush Legs” a kind of pantyhose paint and waved his hand to dry it. He took out a paper template and said, “keep em’ closed” as he sprayed bright blue coloured hairspray in a solid circle over each eye, then another shaped template for the cheeks and lastly a lip pout in bright red over the top of the neck brace covering her mouth. “Perfect… …oh wow you look fantastic.” Jenny was getting suspicious now and lent forward to stand up but felt her singlet slipping so sat back down blushing. 

The Two men went around, bracing and painting the other models and in just a few minuets the Photographer was back to Jenny.  The music got a little louder as he lent over her and clipped something to the back of her brace. He made a twirl with his hand and Jenny was pulled from behind back against the couch and then to her feet. Her Singlet top falling to her waist. She tried to scream but very little sound came out.  The Photographer took another brace that looked like a chair with half the seat missing and strapped it around Jenny. She was relieved to be covered up again, even by the clear plastic of the brace. The photographer unzipped Jenny’s skirt and she tried to kick him. He made the twirl with his finger again and she was lifted completely off the ground.

The Photographer walked off and Jenny dangled there. She was facing away from the others but guessed correctly that they were all being bound up the same way.

As she dangled a few mm from the floor her pencil skirt and singlet slid off. Someone from behind pushed the lower brace forward so she was sitting in it. Ass cheeks out and legs spread and bent like riding and invisible horse. The Photographer came over and locked in the front part of the lower brace. Jenny was now suspended from the ceiling arms and legs spread wide, locked in a hard clear plastic shell.  She could move her hips and legs together and her arms shoulders and head together but only side to side. She could not bend.  The thick plastic was hot and she was starting to sweat. The cool air on her ass reminded her it was poking out like some gorilla piñata.

The lights came on, Jenny was caught in a spotlight, her eyes dazzled for a few seconds. Someone gave her a spin and she saw a man walk around and spin the other seven models all painted and suspended like her. The lights went out and she was lowered to the floor face down.

Jenny felt relieved, she guessed they had had their fun and she was getting let out. One of the riggers came over and pulled roughly at her back. She prepared for the freeing looking over at her clothes on the floor.  The rigger walked over to the clothes and put them in a plastic bag.

Jenny raised up again this time ass first. She could feel the blood rush to her face on the way up. Then she was rocked back and forward again. The music stopped and lights on again.  She felt a buzzing cramp in her side and uncontrollably lurched, one elbow up the other down. Then to the other side. It was a TENS device flexing her muscles. She was released and finding herself out of breath. Breathing in the brace was difficult while it was supporting all her weight. She panted through her nose a few times before she felt her body move again. Hips left, then right, the same phantom electrified muscle sensation. Lights off one more time.

Jenny and the other models were lowered again. The Photographer came around again and rolled Jenny over onto her back.  He knelt down between her leg and took a large red marker and circled her right nipple. Pressed up against the clear plastic brace her breast was perfectly round. He wrote the number 2 next to it in big bistro menu writing but she couldn’t lower her head to see the “02”. The Photographer stepped off and looked down over her saying “Just two more things and we are ready to go. The guests should be here in about an hour.”

Jenny couldn’t think, couldn’t breath, she started to panic badly.  Her eyes filled with tears. She wasn’t afraid or angry, she was a little turned on, but mostly very very confused.

After lying on their backs for a few minutes like giant baby dolls the models were hoisted into the air again.  One of the riggers was setting up a DJ booth and the other had made a small bar out of one of the folding tables and a tablecloth. The music stopped and started a few times and Jenny could here muffled cries. Someone took hold of her leg and pressed something sharp into her groin. A violent shock went through her.  She peed and the person behind her caught it in a bucket. She felt scissors and her underwear snipped off. Strangely leaving her pantyhose on. She felt a paper towel dry her off.  Another shock, this time to her ass. But she didn’t have a bowel movement.

The barman came over and looped a silver chain around her wrists. Between them a silver platter with a chilled martini glass. The Photographer noticed Jenny’s eyes and went to his bag. He returned and sticky tapped a pair of sunglasses on her.

All the models were raised up to the ceiling just above the lights. One by one they were lowered down, tilted, rotated and electrified then rose up again. Once all were tested they stayed at the top out of sight.

After an hour or so of waiting the first of the guests arrived and the music got a little louder.  She walked over to the couch and sat down under Jenny.  Jenny floated down ass first directly in front of the woman. She rotated around crotch at eye level then was tilted forward to present the drink on the platter.  The woman looked Jenny over for a minute, studying her breasts squashed into shiny soft round mounds behind the plastic brace. Casually she lent forward and took the drink. Jenny was lowered further to place the platter on its short legs to make a mini coffee table. The weight off the chains they simply slipped free of Jenny’s wrists. As the other guests arrived they got the same service from the other models.  Five guests in all, four male one female. Jenny and the models just rotated slowly for the first few minutes while the guest got their drinks.

After all the guests were seated, Jenny started to move sideways. She and the other models were being circulated around all of the guests sitting on the couch. After one lap the Models were rocked forward and back while they circled and rotated. The third lap saw them getting raised and lowered while they rocked like a merry-go-round, circled and slowly rotated. Each rotating was about ten seconds and it took about three minutes to do a complete lap. The girls continued to lap as different disco lighting effects lit them in time with the old school electronic music. 

After a few more laps the lights dimmed and all the models rose to the ceiling.  At all four sides projectors lit up the walls. First on screen was Jenny. The title “Number 02” remained at the top of the screen as silent footage of her getting in the elevator, pushing the button, chatting to the cleaner and then walking down the stairs rolled on. Each time she rounded another flight the camera would see down her singlet top as she walked under it. Gently bouncing as she trotted down the stair sin heels and that pencil skirt. Jenny watched in horror, as the last picture was of her driver’s license and “insurance” form showing her date of birth and address but with “Number 02” superimposed over her name. The other seven models 03, 04, 05, 06, 07, 08, and 01 were shown in order they hung in. All getting in the elevator, meeting the cleaner, walking down the stairs under the cleavage cameras and ending with their IDs.

The models were lowered again and did one lap at eye level before the music changed and the lights became more vigorous. The Woman Jenny had served a drink to, took out her phone and took some pictures as Jenny swung by. The beat of the music got stronger and Jenny started to feel it pulse through her.  It was Old 90’s trance and slow techno, Jenny recognized the music but these were remixes she hadn’t heard. The pulse of the music intensified without getting louder as Jenny started to pivot her arms head and shoulder side to side in time with the bass beat. Fast jerky movements whipped her left to right flicking her hair out each time. As she spun Jenny could see all the other models forced into perfect sync with the electronic music. An electric ballet of flesh pressed into clear plastic. The guests all applauded and took out their phones to take images and short video.  The next song was faster with a heavy beat ‘Jock Jams’ -  ‘booty on the floor’. With that song the hip electrodes came on and the models asses pulsed and swiveled in sync with the song.  The guests let out some hearty laughs and a few hoots. The models slowly rotated as their whole bodies thrashed in time with the heavy beat. The last lap was all the Models facing away from the guests. The side motion was stopped.  Just their butts electrified, pulsing in and out with the music.

As the song faded the models once more rose up out of sight.  The big projectors lit up the four walls again with the words. “Place your bids for… This time Number one came first.  We have three open dates. First tonight…” Jenny could see two of the guests tapping on their phones but was disoriented by the lights and spinning so couldn’t tell which ones. The screen asked for bids on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Two guests seemed to be bidding a lot as Number one’s entrance clip played on loop.  She was a taller girl, pale white skin and carrot red hair. The outcome of the bidding wasn’t clear. But Jenny was next and she felt a dread wash over her like she had never felt before.

“Number 02” flashed on the screen as Jenny’s security camera footage play on loop like the first girl. Jenny saw a few flickers from phones being handled in the dark but couldn’t make out who or what they were doing.

“Number 03” was up and Jenny’s panic deepened with the end of biding on her. What were they doing? What would happen next? Jenny lost focus in a haze of emotion, deep in a panic she didn’t notice the other auctions. She was snapped out of her daze when the lights came on and three of the other models were lowered to just above the ground.  The rigger wheeled out a large wooden box and swung one of the models into it and hooked her to a bar in the center.  It was the 01 the tall redhead.  She was now suspended in the wooden box. The rigger took out an electric drill and screwed the side and top closed. A freight elevator opened and she was wheeled inside.  The other two followed the same way, while the five remaining models dangling high above exchanged glances, panic so deep Jenny could hear nothing other than her own heart beat racing away in her ears.

The rest of the guests left and the DJ, Rigger and Photographer started clearing up. The remaining Models and jenny were lowered down to floor level once more.

The three men running the show knew what to expect; loosening the top brace on each to a barrage of incoherent abuse.  The models got just enough slack to swallow the big straw from the sports bottle and fell silent sucking down the watery OJ laced with codeine.  Each model was given a full liter before being re- tightened and hoisted back to the ceiling in a chorus of “hmm,hm,hmm!” from each displayed model.

The photographer sent a text to flat mates and families of the models from their own phones saying the job was now a three or four-day shoot and they are staying in a hotel in the city and that they were “flat out but hanging in there”.

In their weakened state from two hours of forced aerobatics the models quickly drifted off to sleep.

Their three keepers methodically went about preparation for the next evening’s event.  Putting in an ‘ASAP fitness model call’ in gumtree.com and checking paypal and bank statements online. These men were getting quite practiced at the whole routine.

The sole Woman guest walked out through the carpark the fire door at 155 Castlereagh led to, a little unsure about the situation but visibly turned on. She sent her assistant the phone photos back at her office.  He scrolled through them very impressed, but he knew they weren’t for him to enjoy. He uploaded the pix into the “Next weeks new acquisitions” page.

Andrew was his name. Liz the gallery owner had been keeping him for three months and still hadn’t asked who he was. He had lost his part-time job and was doing extra housework to cover his rent when he saw Liz’s offer of three weeks free rent and expenses to work in her in gallery installation.  When he came over for the interview he liked what he saw. The Walls of the gallery filled with Art from Lynda Abraham, Spenser Tunic, Eneg and Stanton, retro fetish sketches hung along side autographed Madonna, Riana and Ga-ga and Fulsome Street fair photos. He was told that he could stay for the duration of the exhibit rent free, get a daily allowance and as much food and drink as he could take. Liz showed him what he would be wearing over the next three weeks.  A wrought iron wire hobble dress mannequin that looked like a birdcage from the late 1800’s. “All I have to do is put it on?”, he said and Liz answered “yes, that’s all you have to do.” Liz smiled as Andrew looked for a catch or zipper to open the 1.5 meter tall hollow torso. She took his hand and led him the few steps to the very large glass shower cubical behind a panel at the rear of the floor. There was no place for his clothes and when the glass door closed it had no handle and there was no way to pull it open from inside.  Andrew threw his shirt out and saw Liz taking his picture. She said “You are a display now, OK?” Andrew, 23 got turned on by the nearly 50 year old woman openly enjoying watching him undress. He slowly threw out shoes, then pants, then socks and underwear. Liz calling out encouraging things while photographing him and his flying clothes. Finally the shower. Liz turned it on and hot soapy foam covered him and told to shave. He was rinsed and blown dry from what seemed to be electric leaf blowers in the roof.  Liz took in a tall step ladder and lowered the female wire frame onto Andrew.  It ‘s circular neck hole resting on his tanned shoulders pinning his arms behind his back. He didn’t realize it yet but the 5Kg weight of the frame was just enough to stop him being able to lift it off with his arms pinned, and the full length meant he couldn’t bend or even fall over if he tried. Liz pinned a wig on him made from steel wool and took the ladder away. She threw another wall switch and white paint sprayed over him. Again he was blown dry. He was now a living artwork.  Andrew must have found something in the procedure as his hard on was raging.

Liz continued to take a few more photos clearly impressed and then just walked out. Andrew bumped into the shower door trying to get it open but it was clear that wasn’t likely. Liz came back and explained: “Boy, you are a living display in my gallery. When I call, you trot over, when I speak you listen and you don’t speak unless I tell you to. Nod if you understand.” He did. “Now come this way I will show you the display floor. Be careful not to bump into the other pieces, they are far to valuable for you to afford.” Liz opened the shower door, led ‘Boy’ out and showed him the gallery floor he had just been sitting in. Full glass wall open to the street and a smattering of retro SnM imagery. In each corner was a small bird feeder. “They dispense ten milliliters once every five minutes.  If you keep moving you can get you them all in that time.  You should try to drink at least a liter a day, but I think you could make it by on just a few hundred mills. This is your food and drink allowance for the duration of the show. I would make full use of it if I were you.” Liz stepped on the stand locking ‘Boy’ to the spot as she fixed a thin white choked collar on his neck. “This sprays citronella, a scent I like, but will burn your eyes and nose if you make too much noise.” Foolishly ‘Boy’ chose that moment to protest and got a tiny sprits from the collar. The sweet smell stung lips, throat and nose so bad he didn’t make another sound for three weeks.

Liz picked up Andrews phone and told his flatmate that she should put his clothes and the rest of his positions in a box out the street for collection. Liz grabbed a hoop on the front of the cage and led Andrew back into the shower. She commanded him to pee, when he did the shower foamed, rinsed dried and repainted him. 

‘Boy’ spent the next three weeks tottering around the shop day and night. Liz made a time laps movie of each day and showed his progress on a plasma screen at the front window. ‘Boy’ became to care less and less about the growing crowds that gathered to watch him trot around each day. Catching only a minute or two of broken sleep each hour ‘Boy’ became easy to control, Liz often stepped on his stand and held him to the spot for clients to admire. After three weeks ‘Boy’ was broken, with no money, no home and no clothes begged Liz to take him in as an unpaid assistant. She bought him a single set of clothes. A stretch cotton jump suit made from black stretch cotton dancing slacks sewed to a white cotton body suit shirt with a sewn in under sized black tie. The same outfit he was still wearing now, three months later, carefully washing and hanging it every night before sleeping naked in his tiny loft box.

Saturday evening three new models arrived, and Jenny watched from the darkness above as the three new girls fell into the same trap. First slipping their arms out of their tops and finally being lifted by their full body braces to the ceiling. The new Models were tested like the last night and seemed unaware of the original five remaining.  The new Models rose up to the darkness at the top and the old down to floor level again. They each were loosened again and given fluids. This time, a Protein shake and red bull to perk them up. The Riggers wrote their numbers on their ass cheeks as well for good measure, and again used a shock baton to empty their bowels and bladders.

The night’s activities started as before with the drink service and electro ballet before another auction.

Jenny didn’t need the red bull to feel “perky” she and the rest of the Models were in a full panic, laboring to breath and faces full of anguish.  She was so frenzied she hadn’t realized that her number was not auctioned with the rest. Six Models were shipped out with the five guests as they left. Two guests – a male couple – took three Models with them, packed and suspended together in one big wooden box.

The crew of three men followed the same procedure as before, they knew exactly what to do, as they had been traveling with this show for a month and shows like it for almost a year now.

A year ago they were shooting a cosplay superhero girls internet TV show for a couple of well off writer friends. It was the pilot and they had decided on a Agalmatophilia theme for the first epp’ and the super vileness’ were supposed to transform the super heroine into a living statue.  The writers who were paying for all of this had not specified in the script how this was to be done. At the production meeting they discussed Hypnosis, wax pour, vacuum beds, a quick dry plaster splatter, chemical and electro immobilization.... etc The group rejected most suggestions due to cost and settled on Plastisising spray booth. The prop, a fold out table with a clear plastic sheet door over the ‘victim’ and a ‘Chemical Spray’ consisting of hair lacquer and laser music effects generator.  On camera it looked surprisingly convincing.  The Actress was breathing through a tube as she got increasingly more covered in hairspray, looking more and more statuesque damp and shiny.

They had finished that take and repositioned a prop to extract the busty Actress when the table legs collapsed.  The weight of the model and the table and props pinning the flap of plastic sheet door under it.  They all laughed until the photographer tried but could not get his fingers under the table to lift it. The Actress was still giggling from the shock when all five on the crew struggled to get a handhold and failed.

This happy accident was the beginning for the three.  The camera had been rolling and the whole thing had been captured perfectly lit and shot.  The emotional range on the Actresses face was stunning from Fake worry to genuine shock to mad giggling and then to genuine terror as the boys failed to free her.  The film ended with a Stanley knife cutting her free about twenty seconds later but the project was doomed.

Broke the Photographer sold the footage to a bondage website and was surprised when they offered to pay in advance for the next one.

Once again the remaining Model and Jenny were lowered. Top brace loosened and fed. This time Jenny decided to let them have it. She was angry and lonely and horney and scared and just wanted out. She began to say all this and found the words coming out a jumble stream of nonsensical sounds.  The rigger left her open for a second to fetch the Photographer. They both watched for a few seconds as they listened Jenny’s long string of word free babble. The Photographer quickly started videoing and Jenny got madder, more incoherent and more desperate.  Suddenly the photographer looked panicked.  He started looking quickly around the room and then brought up the lights. Then he saw them, his sunglasses had fallen off Jenny’s face and were under one of the folding tables. He put them in his hair and continued filming.  Jenny wised up and stopped trying to talk. She was fed, not a shake, not a sedative but three more cans of red bull. The two Models twitched and twirled all night humming away to themselves, drifting in and out of sleep deprived caffeine hallucinations well into the next afternoon. 

Sunday evening and four new models came in. Jenny and the other Model too dazed to notice or care that there were two missing.  After immobilizing and hoisting the new Models, the DJ who was making the Entrance compilation video of the Models walking in and getting bound up found something shocking and run over to the photographer. He shouted, “Reset the elevator.” And the DJ fumbled for the keys  dashed off through the open elevator doors. The photographer saw a text on the phone of one of the new models. She was a female police officer and the text was from her partner asking how the shoot was going.  The photographer texed back “There’s nothing here – I must have got the wrong address – I’ll keep looking for a while.” Sent the text and then removed the battery from the phone. The DJ used the service key to bypass B1 and send everyone to the carpark below. It had no level light so anyone in that lift now would think B1 was actually the empty carpark.  Not wanting to loose money or risk being caught leaving the three continued with their program. An hour later two foot patrol policemen walked into the elevator and pressed the B1 Button. When the doors open to an empty carpark they don’t even bother getting out. They radioed in “…false alarm, there’s nothing here.” And go off to their regular Sunday night beat.

On the actual level B1 the night’s guests had arrived and Liz the woman from the first night was back again. The policewoman was displayed along with the other Models and followed the same pattern: Serve a drink on a tray, spin, jiggle, look terrified and humiliated…etc then the auction. The photographer made up her auction clip to read, pre bought and listed Jenny as the same. This intensified the bidding on the other four and all four were crated up at the end of the night.  Jenny watched as the policewoman was stimulated with the TENS electrodes until she passed out. Jenny wondered what had just happened.

Jenny buzzing from caffeine overload and sleep deprivation was lowered down and loaded into the last wooden crate. The Rigger rolled the crate out of the elevator in the underground car park and loaded it into the Woman’s rental van. Jenny rocked back and forth inside the total darkness hanging from a carabina in the wooden crate.  Every few minutes hitting her head slightly on the sides.  Jenny, so disoriented couldn’t tell if she was imagining the trip, the bumps on the head or the whole thing. Time passed for her in an instant and next thing she knew she was being unpacked in the Woman’s storage garage surrounded by fetish art.

The woman cupped Jenny’s face with her hand and said. “We are just going to take some pictures then you can’t move on OK?” A flurry of different expressions rushed across Jenny’s face and the Woman snapped away madly with a big SLR camera.  Jenny started to relax a little as thoughts of this torture ending were starting to bring her back to reality.

Jenny’s owner introduced herself as Liz’, a Double bay gallery owner. Liz specialized in human installation art and non-graphic SnM imagery, a small but very lucrative market. Liz explained that Jenny would be modeling for a private show. She would get her $100.00 a day and the chance to make much more if an Art lover wanted an extension.

Liz lowered Jenny down out of the crate and placed her on a camp toilet. Liz continued to take pictures when she noticed the look of shame on Jenny’s face. Liz stopped and turned her back so Jenny could poop with a little dignity.

Afterward Liz undid Jenny’s buckles and helped her out of her body cast.  Jenny was so relieved she fell to Liz’s feet and hugged her lower legs. Liz got another few shots off while Jenny said “thank you” thirty or so times. Jenny added. “I want to go home.” Liz said, “…yes I know, you are tired.  Take a nap for a few hours and we’ll get you on your way. Hmm we might need to find you some clothes first, Eh?” Jenny hadn’t noticed she was only wearing pantyhose and high heels and fell asleep on the concrete floor before Liz had even finished speaking.

Liz had laid Jenny in the reclined passenger seat of the gallery van.  When she woke, Jenny was in Liz’s underground carpark. A milky white PVC catsuit with attached hood, feet and mittens was on the drivers seat. It had only two seams and a side zipper. There was a rough nose form clear eyes and dozens of very small perforations for the mouth and nose. The seams and zip ran down the sides like it had been made from only two sheets with no way to wear it without the hood. It seemed a little big for her.

Jenny waking up cold and naked, quickly put on the thick heavy catsuit did up the zip and got out of the van. It felt like a HAZMAT or space suit. She went upstairs to find Liz drinking a coffee at her desk in the back of the gallery.  Liz told Jenny to go through and take a shower. Jenny rustled and crackled as she walked along in the over sized thick opaque PVC. Liz pushed Jenny into a large glass cubical with several shower nozzles. There was no shelf for soap or towels or anything except a white tiled corner and two glass walls. There weren’t even any controls for the shower. Jenny fidgeted with the zip unconsciously doing a 360 turn in the baggy heavy PVC. In the mittens there was no way to grasp and pull the zipper open.  She looked up to see Liz still taking photos and said, “Hey, This has gone too far already.” The sound of her voice buzzing and distorted as it filtered through the heavy plastic. Liz kept snapping away. And Jenny went on, “I trusted you.” Liz stopped taking photos for a second to drink in the sadistic rush before turning on the water. Jenny squealed in shock before realizing that it was just a big shower.  Three domes concealed cameras filming this performance and Liz continued to take pictures, quickly changing to a second camera.  A man came in to take the first camera and hang a third one on Liz’s shoulder, and Jenny squealed again not thinking she was fully clothed. The water ran hot and steam billowed out but the big glass walls stayed clear. The hot water on the plastic suit started to shrink it in places and Liz took an anxious breath.

“Just pose for me honey and I will let you out in one minute… …just five or six good shots and I will cover what I paid to get you out of that basement.” Jenny felt angry but resigned herself to play along. She felt she was safer and after being displayed practically naked for the weekend what was a little raincoat in a shower shot to her?

Jenny posed and felt the suit start to cling, she dismissed it as wetness but it wasn’t.  Each second the suit got smaller and Jenny started to feel very hot.  When the assistant came back Jenny made some animal poses and he stayed to watch.  Jenny was getting turned on and did not realize the suit was now skintight. Liz said, “OK last pose and we are done here. Hold it until I say ok? Tiger!” Jenny posed in a half crouch with her skintight mittens up like paws and showed her teeth. Jenny said, “I am too hot” Liz turned off the hot water and said,  “Hold that pose while I cool you off.” And Turned on the cold water. The change in temperature washed the rest of the white colour out of the suit leaving a completely transparent, totally creaseless with a dull vinyl sheen.  Jenny could see her fingers through the suit now but didn’t make the connection that it was now clear all over. The cold-water set the 5mm thick suit in place and Jenny was locked in her sexy Tiger pose like a super smooth and shiny life size action figure.  Liz left the cold water run for a while longer until Jenny called out “Uhhh!” The suit had shrunk tight around every part of Jenny’s body , making movement impossible. The thermo plastic glue that lined the suit set rock hard at temperatures under 50`C.  Even the teeth bared facial expression was now locked in behind an impossibly smooth clear plastic second skin.

Liz took a few more snaps as Jenny’s eyes followed her around the room, eye lashes mashing against the PVC shell, before calling in her assistant. He opened the very large shower door and pulled the plastic mat with Jenny on it, onto a walking forklift and put Jenny of a small square table in the middle of the gallery floor. ‘Boy’, Liz’s assistant took a chamois and buffed jenny to a high sheen. ‘Boy’ was very excited and his erection was impossible to miss through his tight black slacks as he gave Jenny’s buttocks and breasts extra buffing. Against her will Jenny was getting turned on again feeling the rubbing and watching ‘Boy’s hard on grow.

The large glass front of the gallery just two meters away displaying Jenny’s frozen shower tiger to all the people waking past on their way to work this Monday morning.

Liz’s assistant brought in a large plasma display and set it up behind Jenny, while Liz quickly cut together footage from her phone of Jenny trapped swinging half naked in disco lights, being crated up and uncrated in the storage locker, sleeping naked on the floor surrounded by porn and finally posing in the wet ever shrinking opaque catsuit as it slowly became completely transparent and rock hard.  The assistant put a sign at Jenny’s feet.  A small white plaque.

“Life model bound in PVC and Polycaprolactone.

 Short term lease available from today at lunch.”

Jenny could see some of the montage on the screen behind her in the reflection in the glass front wall of the gallery. A wave on wave of humiliation washed over her as passers by gathered and stared through the window, some even taking pictures. A few0 started to come in and walk around the Jenny exhibit. Her legs started to cramp and she relaxed them expecting to fall backwards but not caring. To her surprise the thick plastic wrap supported her weight easily.

It was already 10am and Liz started to rush a little. Barking orders “Boy! Fetch the silver service and put on your gloves”, “Boy! Run out and pick up the Champaign” …etc

By 11.30 a crowd of fifteen or so had gathered and Liz flipped the sign at the front “Back After Lunch” and closed the shop vertical blinds. The gallery customers floated around the room trying to look disinterested as ‘Boy’ served Champaign. Minutes passed and the customers all took terns peering into Jenny’s fearful eyes and some even rubbing her vacuum packed breasts and ass. Impossibly smooth and seamless her form was intoxicating.

The silent auction began at 12 noon. And was done by 12.10. The winner walked up and whispered in Liz’s ear. A big smile filled her face and she nodded heartily shaking his hand. Jenny wondered what fresh hell awaited her.

OK –

Generally I don’t mind you taking your time to think things over.

But c’mon. There’s thinking and there’s being a big chicken. I won’t bite you (without permission):

Your clothes will not spontaneously fall off in the middle of the CBD, your head will not explode, you will not remain a chicken. 

You can choose the fantasy you experience.

Block away some weekend time, write me, and let’s meet up. You are only young and irresponsible once.

I have a Thursday open too – but that might change.

OK –

I’m probably going to regret this, but like my other posts – I am only trying to bring you closer to a happy place…

Anyway;

Eating:

You eat to live, eating makes you feel better. If you feel bad, it’s natural to eat more to cope. If you know WHY you feel bad, you won’t need to cope, you can grow past it.

Look at yourself – what’s eating you (when you want to eat)? Do you think criticizing yourself is going to help? Has it ever?

If you are too bummed to get off the couch how or even why would you do some exercise?

You need to feel good sometimes – and feel good about yourself. I’m not talking about that positive affirmation crap. Find something you genuinely like about yourself.  Do something that makes you happy. Be happy. Eat to live. Live for your life.

Stop putting yourself down, get a dog, get a vibrator, get a toyboy, take your life into your own hands and shake it for all your worth.

And buy a corset – everyone looks good in a corset.

Photo quest:

You will need a digital camera and a sense of reckless abandon.

#1 Train spotting – take two large white / brown balloons and fill them with water to the size of small lemons. Put on a bikini top and slip the balloons in. Position the knot over your nipples and tape it on with a small X of PVC tape.

Put on a thin white shirt over the top. Ride some public transport with your camera until you see someone starring at your chest. Politely ask them for a picture together and send it to me.

#2 Bound to please – At lunch time or in the early morning, put on some workout clothes and head down to a local park popular with joggers (parks nearer to city centres are a good bet). Tie your laces together really tight (three or four knots). Now hop down to where the joggers run by and flag one down. Ask them to help you untie your shoes (you can tell them your niece did it as a prank… or not). When you have a volunteer, take a picture untying your shoes. And then another when they look up to se what you are taking a picture of.

#3 Take a picture of yourself pole dancing on a police signpost (clothing mandatory – costumes preferred).

Greetings A/all,

In response to a number of queries that seem to have a similar theme,

I am assigning a writing task. This task is open to all.

Please follow the instructions and send me your stories, spelling checked and with good grammar (300- 900 words).

1. Get a writing pad and pencil or portable computer.
2. Put on a load of clothes for washing (go to a coin op if needed or brave enough)
3. Set the machine to the longest possible cycle (usually heavy duty)
4. Write down the following:

 “While waiting in the Doctors office, I noticed his assistant looking me over. She stood up and I caught a brief glimpse of her chest. Her cleavage pushed up by her corset making her breasts perfectly spherical under her white collared shirt. She took tiny steps as she walked to me in her hobble skirt, silk stockings and patent leather stilettos. She took my hand and gave me a knowing look as our eyes met. She led me through the door into the examination room.”

5. After copying this down into your story sit on the washing machine to write.
6. Read the story so far and let your mind wander.
7. Write down what you imagine to happen next.
8. Write to the point of climax and include that in your story before you release.
9. Moan as loud as you can and truly embrace the moment (don't drop your computer!).
10. Check your story for errors and omissions and email it to me.

Don’t forget to dry your clothes – I wouldn’t want you without anything to wear… before I meet you at least :).

You may alter my introduction if you so desire. Please send off your submissions promptly; you really shouldn’t keep the Doctor waiting.

I had my first contact with some potential candidates this week.

And some supportive emails from new friends. Thanks to all who took the time to write. As I said in my introduction I am looking for real life subjects to hypnotize. I have some new induction scripts and some new deep trance tests to try out and am eager to connect with those who think they might enjoy the experience. At this stage I am only seeking female volunteers. I have full time access to a male brain (mine) and am only kept curious by lack of a female one. Size, shape, age (legal), ethnicity (English speaking) are not issues. Drop me a line if you live in Sydney and are curious – sorry to those of you out-of-towners (*wink to toni). Deep trances necessitate repeated sessions so traveling a long way is unworkable for me.

Thanks for reading,

The Doctor.