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Trust Machines – Dude Gals 2: Oscar and Eileen

If you haven’t read Trust Machines – Dude Gals, you probably should before continuing. This story takes place a week or two after the original story. It focuses on Oscar/Rita and their relationship with Bruno and Mac. And it introduces a new player to whatever it is they have.

Bruno shouted, “She’s here.” He reached down and lifted her a foot off the floor as he embraced Rita before she could enter the apartment. Mac was waiting patiently to give her a hug as well. “I love how little you are.”

“I love how big you are.”

Bruno took a box from Rita’s hands. It was a small cardboard box with images of condoms on it. There was what might be text on the box but it was obvious that whatever the box was now, it was a person who was in a Venn machine at some point.

“Who’s this?” Bruno asked once Rita and Mac were done hugging.

“Eileen. We have a month to use her.”

“Eileen is the friend with benefits you told us about.”

“She prefers fuck buddy. When she found out I was being fucked by two guys she practically dragged me to the machine to have me venn her as a box of a hundred condoms.”

“A hundred? In a month?” Mac said.

Bruno shook his head, “Rita has three holes and there’s two of us. Shouldn’t really be a problem.”

“That’s what Eileen said.”

“Are your boobs bigger?”

“Are they? That bitch. That’s two things she did I didn’t want her to do.”

“What’s the other one?”

“I only have two holes at the moment.”

“Awesome. We should be able to fly though that box.”

“Well, I knew she’d do something like this. So, um, there’s actually 200 condoms in the box.”

“You might want to give some of these to your friends,” Bruno said.

“I think I will.”

“Why are we still talking about this?” Mac said.

Rita tore the plastic off the box. Lifting the lid, a rainbow of large, colored condoms, individually wrapped, were loose in the box. “Remember, we have to save the condoms afterward. I have two large, zippered plastic bags in my purse to store them. One for the condoms and one for the wrappers.”

“You want to save used condoms for a month?”

* * *

Twenty-eight days later, they had soiled the last of the condoms. Rita dumped the plastic bag full of empty condom wrappers into the venned empty box, leaving the bag full of used condoms behind. She took it to the venn machine by herself and put the box in one side and she got in the other side. She allowed the machine to cycle and stepped out as Oscar. He went to the other side to retrieve what was there.

The next day, Oscar, Bruno, and Mac were in the two men’s apartment. “When will we meet Eileen?”

“An hour and a half or so.”

“That’s plenty of time for us to...”

“No, no. She’s going to be horny as fuck. She’ll need all three of us at peek performance for a few hours.”

As the end of the venn approached, Bruno said, “I was thinking. Was she all the condoms?”

“I’m certain she was,” Oscar said.

“Why?”

Oscar checked the time. “I have her clothes here. And that.”

Where the open bag of spent condoms had been placed on the floor stood Eileen. She was a tall, lithe woman, athletic without being overly muscular. She was nude, and covered with stale and fresh jizz. Her hair was matted against her head and gross looking. Her eyes were crusted shut by dried fluids.

She shrieked. “You fucker. You didn’t clean the condoms?”

“You said nothing about cleaning them. This is Bruno and Mac.”

She shrieked again and then laughed. “Of course, I’m standing in front of your friends like this. Fuck, you got me good.”

“Now I understand why we’re in the bathroom,” Mac said. “I’m Mac. The shower is right there.”

“I put your shampoo and body wash in the shower before you reappeared,” Oscar said.

“Goddamnit, I want to fuck. Give me a minute.”

The men stepped out of the bathroom. “You’re never planning to get into a venn machine with her again, right?”

Oscar shrugged. He said, “We should strip. She’s usually horny after a sex venn like this.”

A couple minutes later, she stepped out of the bathroom. Her hair was still wet but smelled of strawberries.

“Nice meeting you two. Now get those cocks Oscar told me you have into my ass and my pussy while I have word with Oscar.”

They were already stripped to their underwear. Mac took a reclined position and she rubbed some wetness between her legs on his cock before guiding him into her backside. Bruno sat in front of her and slipped easily into her leaking pussy. “Damn, Oscar said you’d be horny.”

“I’ve had a couple hundred dicks in me in a month. And I need more.” She lay back and Oscar’s cock was near her face. “I should bite it off.”

“You couldn’t.”

“Maybe after I suck you dry. I can’t believe you left me stewing in jizz for a month.”

“Only like half a month. The first half of the month the condom to jizz ratio was...”

“Shut the fuck up,” the other three said and she started sucking him into her mouth.

“If I tell you to fuck my face, will that shut you up?”

“I think he needs a dick in his mouth to shut him up.”

She pushed Oscar back. “You so much as think about pulling out of me, you won’t live a moment longer. FUCK ME! Harder you dicks.”

Later, the men were spent. She had been fucked numerous times and she was still ready. “Get up.” She said.

“Get up? I won’t be getting it up for a week.”

“Liar. C’mon, I want to meet Rita, Tara, and Mara.”

“You want to do Plan 9?”

“My need for being wrapped around a dick has been curbed a bit. As a condom, I was also pushed into holes and none of this has done anything for that feeling.”

“C’mon, guys. You’ll love Plan 9.”

“She’s a fucking taskmaster, isn’t she?”

“I heard that.”

It took far too long for the four of them to get to the venn machine. Mac and Bruno went in first and came out as Mara and Tara. They were sporting bigger boobs than they normally wore. Oscar and Eileen entered. Mara looked worried for Oscar.

A few moments later, Rita left the machine and went to the other side to grab a long box maybe a foot square on the end and four feet long. “Let’s go. We don’t want to keep him waiting.”

Confused but game for anything the women returned to Mac’s and Bruno’s apartment where Rita said, “Strip. I’ll get Eileen ready in the bedroom.”

When Mara and Tara entered the bedroom, Rita was sitting on an alien monstrosity. It was a round log about three feet long with a bunch of cocks sticking up from it at various heights. The longer cocks were more like tentacles that ended with penis heads.

“You put your asses and pussies here and there. You put the long ones in your mouth and you tit fuck the ones at that height.”

“This is some crazy hentai,” Mara said.

Rita was rubbing her boobs on the cock between them as she bounced on the cocks in her lower holes. “Eileen has always want to do this with more than one woman.”

“You’ve done this before?” Tara said.

“Once or twice.”

Mara and Tara sat down facing one another. They easily slid on to the relatively shorter cocks. They took the longest ones into their mouth. Facing one another, they were able to rub their nipples together as they tit fucked the cocks between their breasts.

When the log moaned, and it did so often, it was a deep reverberation. The three women felt the vibrations in all parts of their bodies. As they developed a good rhythm, the women new to this were surprised as more tentacles came out of the log and wrapped around their waists and heads, locking them in place. For a couple hours, the log had its way with the three women, not that they were complaining. The log released a lot of cum into the ladies during that time.

The log released them as it rested for a while. The women lay on the floor recovering and cuddling. After a moment, Tara said, “Where did it go?”

“Bathroom,” Rita said.

The alien thing returned after a while with some bottles of water and some fruit.

“I don’t know why this surprises me.”

“I don’t know either,” the log said.

“You have a mouth?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” The mouth was located at one of the ends of the log.

“You haven’t said anything for a couple hours.”

“I’m shy,” the naked, alien, tentacle nightmare said.

They laughed.

“I’ll be ready for round two in an hour or so. How did you two meet?”

“I need to add something to my bucket list so I can cross it off: told a tentacle monster how I met Bruno.”

They chatted for an hour. Eileen’s tentacles started wrapping themselves around the women’s ankles and pulling them toward her.

“One last question before you violate us.”

“I only violate people who ask me to.”

“You are a responsible tentacle monster,” Tara said. “Was Plan 9 a movie reference or do you have eight other plans?”

“If we hang out more often, you’ll find out.”

“Works for me.”

A few hours later, the log had covered the ladies in cum before releasing them. “We’re cutting it close,” Tara said. They got off the log just as Tara and Mara were replaced by Mac and Bruno.

A few minutes later, the log was replaced by a naked, and far less jizz covered, woman. Oscar was standing nearby. “Perfect. I started the day covered in cum,” Eileen said. “And you three end the day covered in it.”

“Well played,” Oscar said. “She deserves a big hug.”

“She does,” Mac and Bruno said.

“No wait,” Eileen protested too late as they rubbed all the excess cum on their bodies on her. She wiped some of it off as she planted a kiss on Oscar. “Got me again.” As Oscar opened his mouth to reply, Eileen shoved her cum covered fingers into his mouth.

Bruno stepped between them, “We are not having a cum fight.” He was splattered with gobs of jizz for his troubles.

Eventually a cease fire was declared and the four of them took a shower together. A long, well-needed, and erotic shower.

“So, are we all fuck buddies now?” Mac said.

“I hope so,” Eileen said. “I finally get a short woman fuck buddy. This asshole would never be a woman for me.”

“I’ve grown in the past couple months, or maybe I shrank. I use to be uptight about my manhood.”

“And now she’s completely free use,” Mac said.

“Seriously?” Eileen said.

“Is that a problem?” Bruno said. “I mean. We say free use but that doesn’t mean we’re assholes. If someone looks like they really don’t want it, don’t do it.”

“And it isn’t just Rita. All three of us will fuck any time,” Mac said. “I thought you understood that when I asked about being fuck buddies.”

“Sure,” Eileen said. “It’s really not that different than how Oscar and I were before.”

“Great, I feel like being one of three dicks in a woman,” Mac said.

“Me, too,” Bruno said.

Oscar just nodded.

Eileen dropped her towel. “Let’s do it.”

Author’s Note:

Yeah, it’s a hentai story. I think this is the first time I’ve done a tentacle story.

I’m continuing the stories in this slice of the trust machine universe. At some point there will be a Terry and Trish/Patrick story and a Hannah/Henry and Allen/Paula story. And if I’m having fun at the time, a fifth story after than.

Speaking of fun, there’s also a Sister Bros 2 on its way.

Who Am I?

This story was originally submitted to the Big Closet R Us New Years contest. I was originally nervous about posting this story as it isn't a magic transformation story. It is transitioning story. And I have no experience with that. Several kind comments on the post itself were very encouraging.

“Bryan, where’s Martin?” Wendy said as he entered. They twins hugged one another.

“I can’t stay long. We broke up.”

“Really? W–?” Marisol said, also giving her brother-in-law a hug.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Bro.”

“There’s nothing you can do about it. We disagreed about something and neither of us were willing to change our positions. It was a mutual understanding that we’d grown apart.”

“You were together for five years.”

“I’ve said all I’m going to say,” he got up and gave his twin sister and her partner a hug. “I’ve got to go. Talk to you soon.”

“Bye.”

“What’s with him lately?” Marisol said.

“I have no idea,” his sister said. “It’s very weird not knowing what he’s thinking. We used to be in perfect sync.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yeah. You didn’t know me before. Bryan and Edward were each other’s shadows. People called us Bry-n-eddy. We would finish each other’s sentences, dress the same. We didn’t start having separate personalities until high school when Bryan figured out he wanted to date men and I didn’t.”

“Did you know about yourself at the time?”

“No, I didn’t figure out I was a woman until I was twenty-four. Bryan laughed when I told him. Said it made sense that he was gay since after I transitioned, I’d be gay too.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“That’s Bryan. He felt funny being gay when I wasn’t. Edward was dating a woman named Carly when Bryan came out. We actually went on a couple double dates: Carly and myself and his first long-term partner, Alejandro. Good times.”

“You often say that about Carly. What happened to you two?”

Wendy laughed. “We grew apart. I feel so stupid. What Bryan just said. I said the same thing to Bryan at the time. I didn’t want to talk about it. And he never pressed me about it. It took a year to tell him Carly wanted to explore a threesome and I just wasn’t into it.”

“Really?”

“I haven’t really told you much about Carly, have I?”

“She’s only a name and a face in some old photos. I told you I don’t care about your past lovers, especially the ones from before you transitioned.”

“Carly was important. I was Edward when we met. We’d been dating for a while when she asked me to play dress up with her. She wanted to know what I’d look like in drag. ‘You have such a pretty face,’ she would say.”

“She was right.”

“The first time, it felt weird in a way I hadn’t anticipated. She loved how I looked. I felt really good about myself when we would go out together as women and come home to have sex. She encouraged me to do this because the sex was amazing.

“Everything was fine until she thought it would be fun to try a threesome. She said she knew a guy who wouldn’t mind me being a guy in a dress. I wanted no part of it. I only wanted to share her bed. Eventually, she started complaining I was spending too much time as a woman. When I told her it was the first time I’d felt right about myself in years, she became distant and we broke up not long after that. I heard years later she had a habit of getting her boyfriends to do drag and then a threesome. But for me, it unlocked something.

“When I told Bryan I was now Wendy, he was confused. To this day, I don’t know if he’s really accepted that his brother is his sister. But he never questioned it, never said I was wrong, and I can’t remember him ever using the wrong pronouns on me after I told him I’d be living as Wendy from then on.”

“He helped pay for your surgeries?”

“It’s great having a rich twin. When I told him I wanted to transition but didn’t think I could afford to on a teacher’s salary, he just said, ‘How much do you need?’”

* * *

Marisol was surprised when she saw who was entering her apartment. Martin wasn’t in costume. She rushed to intercept him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry Marisol. I didn’t know you guys were throwing a Halloween party today. Jane Russel?”

“Got it in one,” she said giving her long, red sequined dress with high slide slit and plunging neckline a twirl.

“I would have came a different day if I’d known about the party. But, I need to speak to Wendy urgently.”

“She’s in the kitchen. Is this about Bryan?”

“Yes. But it isn’t about me. It’s about Wendy.”

“What does that mean?” she said as she followed Martin into the kitchen.

Wendy wore the same dress Marisol did. She looked exactly like Marilyn Monroe from Gentlemen Prefer Blonds.

“Who are you supposed to be, Martin?” Wendy said with soft, lilting voice.

“I didn’t know there was a party. I figured you’d have it next week. I hope I’m not too late.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Have you seen Bryan recently?”

“It’s been about a month. I thought he was broken up over you two breaking up.”

“Don’t remind me. He’s gone nuts.”

“Don’t be like that,” Marisol said.

“Don’t make me kick you out in this dress.”

Martin held his hands up in self-defense. “I don’t know what he told you. But he… fuck. I’m too late.”

Another Wendy walked into the kitchen.

“Bryan?” Marisol said.

“Obviously, I’m Wendy.” He was wearing makeup exactly how Wendy did her makeup. The dress he wore was a copy of one of her favorite dresses. One could believe he either had expensive breasts forms on or he’d had a boob job.

“What are you doing, Bryan?” Wendy said, her face cycling through an array of emotions.

“I’m going to leave,” Martin said. “I’ve met my quota for his insanity.”

“Martin, don’t be like that.”

“Shut up, Bryan. This isn’t funny.”

“It isn’t supposed to be funny.”

Wendy left the room in tears.

“Get the fuck out of here, Bryan,” Marisol yelled.

“What did I do?”

“Get out!”

Martin was waiting for him when he reached the street.

“Don’t tell me you told me so.”

“But I did, Bryan. Take off that wig. You need help.”

“They’re hair extensions. And I need to understand. I don’t understand.”

“And this was going to give you clarity?”

“Explain what I did wrong, Martin. For old times’ sake.”

A car arrived and Martin got in. “Get in. I don’t want you confusing people by standing outside their apartment building.”

“I have to call it in that there are two passengers,” the gig driver said.

“Yes, yes, fine,” Martin said. “Bryan, dressing like your sister is not going to help you understand why she’s no longer – sorry, not no longer – it won’t help you understand why she was never your brother.”

“Right. That’s what they say.”

“They say it because that’s the truth. That’s the reality. Your twin was always your sister. You thinking you can just wear her stuff and claim to be just like her is insulting. I can’t believe you chose a party to be the place you showed her whatever the fuck you think you were showing her.”

“We’re still the same.”

“You were never the same.”

“We were always the same. Identical twins. You know it took me years to admit to her I was gay. She was never gay. Except, now she was always gay because she was always a woman and always a lesbian. I don’t know how to deal with that. Edward was straight.”

“Don’t dead name her.”

“I don’t know how else to talk about this.”

“Are you mad that she, somehow, stole your thunder? You were the gay twin and that was you being different. But then she’s not only gay but trans too?”

“No.”

“I think that’s it. You’re jealous that she became more unique. No one calls you two identical twins any more. This outfit is your way to be identical again.”

“That’s not…” Bryan’s voice was very soft. The driver even leaned back to hear better. “That’s not it at all. Being identical isn’t supposed to hurt her. It’s for me.”

“For you?”

“I don’t make sense without my twin.”

“That’s not how it works. Twins are separate people. Even conjoined twins are separate people. What does it matter if your twin is your sister? All your memories of being together are unchanged.”

“Aren’t they? We were always in sync. You never knew her before. You never knew me in my teens. We were Bry-n-Eddy. Not Bryan and Eddy. Bry-n-Eddy. We were one person. I feel lost without… her.”

“Bryan, I’m not your therapist. I don’t know what to tell you. But teenage you doesn’t exist any more, except in your head and in the memories of those who knew you. You’re thirty-six. You’re childhood is now less than half your life.”

“My therapist said that once.”

“Aging happens. Change happens. It kills me to see you falling apart. But I can’t help you with this. And you pushed me away. When you have your head on straight, maybe we can talk again.”

The car stopped. “We’re here.”

Martin took out his phone and spoke to the driver. “Are you still on duty? I’ll make a drive request so you can take Bryan home.”

“I don’t need charity.”

“Shut the fuck up and accept the ride.”

“Make the request now,” the driver said. “There. I got it. Woah, that’s an expensive neighborhood.”

“I’d tell you not to do anything stupid, Bryan. But that ship has sailed.”

“Thanks for listening, Martin. I love you.”

“You don’t know who the fuck you are. Figure that out before telling someone you love them.” He closed the door and the car pulled away.

“He your friend?” The driver asked Bryan.

“Ex.”

“That’s one understanding ex. What is your problem?”

“I’m a man and my identical twin isn’t a man.”

“I got that part. Why does it matter?”

“If I knew that, I wouldn’t be in your car.”

“Fair enough. Can I ask a personal question?”

Bryan nodded, dabbing away some tears.

“Are those breast implants?”

* * *

“It’s getting worse,” Marisol said.

“You saw Bryan?”

“I had to explain to David that he didn’t see my wife in a club Friday night.”

“What was your boss doing in a club?”

“He’s dating someone half his age. She likes to party all night on Fridays so she drags him to clubs. I get to hear him complain about the hangovers and back pain every Monday.”

“Didn’t he make a New Year’s resolution at our New Year’s party last month to not go drinking all night?”

“Yes.”

“Was Bryan with anyone?”

“David said you were dressed to kill and dancing with some guy.”

“Dressed to kill?”

“He snapped a pic.” Marisol took out her phone and sent Wendy a text that she had already prepared to send.

“That guy looks young.”

“That’s what you’re focused on?”

“I can’t look at Bryan. That dress is worth a fortune and he must have had work done in order to pull off a neckline that reaches his… is that a navel piercing?”

“Yeah. His makeup is even better than it was at Halloween.”

Wendy stared at the pic on her phone for a few moments. She flicked the image away and made a call. “Mom?

“Yes, it’s Wendy. How’s Dad?

“Someone spotted Bryan at a bar. He’s fine.

“No, I didn’t talk to him.

“No, I have no idea why he doesn’t return your calls. Or my calls. I was just calling to tell you you shouldn’t worry about him.

“I know it’s been three months since he moved out of his old apartment and didn’t tell us where he is now.

“Mom, the police told us they found him and they couldn’t force him to talk to us.

“Yes, a friend of mine spotted him out and about on Friday. He’s fine.

“What I meant, Mom, is he’s not ill.

“I…

“You…

“Mom!

“I...

“I…”

Marisol stepped away a few feet and fake yelled, “Wendy? Wendy, come quick!”

“Mom, mom! Marisol’s calling me. I gotta go. Love you.

“Love Dad too. Bye.”

* * *

The bar was named Takeoffs and Landings.

“Is this seat taken?” the man said to a woman sitting at the bar. A simple, wide tumbler a quarter full of amber liquid sat on the bar in front of her.

“Free country.” She turned her head and looked at him as she said it.

“Thanks. I’m Tom.”

“I’m uninterested.”

“Already. Well, thanks. Saves me the trouble of asking if I can buy you a drink.”

She didn’t reply.

“Is there a guy in here you would talk to? Or are you just here for the ambiance?”

She still didn’t reply.

“I doubt you were stood up. You have the look of someone who came here to brood but you didn’t want to do it at home alone.”

“If you buy me a drink, will you shut up?” She asked.

“No, that would just encourage me. You should continue ignoring me. It’s fine. I can take it. Besides, that drink you have looks expensive. Probably saved me a bunch shooting me down right from the start.”

“Pity.” She took a sip.

The bartender arrived and asked Tom what he wanted. Tom didn’t say anything to the woman until his dark ale was delivered. He took a drink.

“You aren’t here to talk. You probably aren’t picking anyone up. Not waiting for someone. I was right when I said it was the ambiance, wasn’t I?”

“That you are ruining.”

“Fine, fine, fine. Just curious. Do you think I’ll have better luck with the brunette sitting at that table on your left with her two blond friends. Or should I go for the woman sitting alone in that booth on your right. The first girl I fear will be too easy and there’s no chance for a long-term relationship. But the other woman looks like she’s overeager for a long-term relationship. I was hoping for someone at neither of those extremes.”

“And started with me.”

“Your ship wasn’t even in the port it seems. I’ve moved on to hopefully someone who will look at me when she’s talking to me. I don’t ask for much.”

Without looking, she said. “The brunette. The woman in the booth will end up stalking you if you try to break up with her.”

“That’s what I thought. Thanks, Wingman. Wish me luck.” He picked up his beer and headed to the table the three women were sitting at.

The woman at the bar knocked back her glass and finished her drink in one shot. When the bartender approached her, she waved her hand over the glass. He took the glass and put it in the wash bin. She sat alone for several minutes before looking over at the table.

Tom was looking right at her and gave her a wink when she looked over.

She got up and left.

* * *

“Hello?” Tom said into the phone. The call was from an unknown number.

“I’m calling you. I don’t know why.”

“Brooding bar lady from two weeks ago? So good of you to call.”

“Are you and the brunette engaged?”

“No, she didn’t even stay the night. Once she’d had her fun she left without even lying about calling me later.”

“You still dodged a bullet with the booth woman.”

“I probably did. But I can expect you to murder me on our third date, right?”

“Depends entirely on how you treat me how and when I murder you.”

“Great, this is a call about a date. Are you buying?”

“Sure. Let’s meet at the Cello Waltz around eight on Friday.”

“Oh, my.”

“You know the place?”

“I’ve never been there. But I am looking forward to it. Who shall I say the reservation is under?”

“Tom.”

* * *

Tom waited nervously in the lobby of the two star restaurant wearing a dark suit, tie and pale pink dress shirt. The door opened and his eyes were drawn to the woman entering. She wore an emerald, long sleeved, satin top with a plunging neckline. Her knee-length skirt was black and pleated from waist to hem. She wore dark opaque tights and medium height heels. She handed a beige trench coat she was carrying to the coat check person. Her clutch had a symbol on it that Tom wasn’t familiar with but he was sure it was a high end fashion logo.

As she approached him, he took her hand and kissed it. “I’m glad I dressed up.”

“I would have hated to have to murder you in the lobby.”

“I have a request.”

“My name?”

“If you would.”

“Call me Rayne.”

By the end of the night she was far less enigmatic to Tom and he was an open book to her. The check arrived and the waiter set it down next to Tom. He visibly froze.

She laughed. “I said I’d pay. Pass it over. No peaking.” She took out a titanium credit card from her clutch and placed it in the folder with the bill without looking at the check. She also used her phone to call a gig driver.

“Do you come here often?”

“No. I’ve only recently started indulging in fine dining. You could have taken me for a burger and I’d have enjoyed the conversation.”

“Date two.”

“There’ll be a date two?”

“I hope so.”

“I have one last thing to tell you before I hold you to that.”

“Okay.”

“I’m a trans woman. Is that problem?”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“I didn’t think it would be for you based on our evening. But I wanted to be explicit about it.”

“Not a problem.”

The waiter returned with the receipt. She signed it and put the stub in her wallet with her card.

“You have my phone number. Call me and arrange our next date.”

“Are you free during the week?”

“Any night as long as you give me a day’s notice.”

“Noted.”

When they reached the lobby, she walked toward the coat check. After she handed her ticket in, Tom placed his hand on her shoulder to suggest that she turn toward him. She did and he kissed her. She kissed back, ending the kiss shortly. “Good night, Tom.”

“Good night, Rayne.” He turned and left.

She put her coat on.

The woman at the coat check said. “Handsome man.”

“He is.”

* * *

Months later, the show they were streaming ended and Tom and Rayne were cuddled together quietly on the sofa in her condo. The television was turned off and they engaged in some soft petting.

“At the risk of ruining the mood,” Tom said.

“Not a good opening,” Rayne said, tensing up instantly.

“We’ve been dating for a while. You’ve met my parents.”

“I told you I would talk about my family when I was ready.”

“I was only hoping for an ETA on that.”

Rayne shifted so she was facing away from him.

He said nothing. His hands slowly trailed along her shoulder and hip. Eventually she relaxed again, leaning against his chest. She turned to look at him and they kissed for a moment. She turned away from him again and took hold of his wrists. She placed his hand on her breasts and said, “What do you think of these tits?”

Without hesitating, he said, “They’re great. Did you pay a lot for them?”

“They cost me my sister.”

He was going to let go but she put her hands over his and trapped his against her breasts.

“Bryan believed he had a twin brother. Late into their teens they were still dressing the same, finishing one another’s sentences, had all the same interests, and were referred to by most people with a portmanteau of their names. I won’t say it because it’s not my place to dead name Wendy.

“It took me months to confess to my sibling that I was gay. I knew they weren’t and I felt like I was letting them down.

“They laughed. ‘You know we’re different, Bryan,’ they said. I argued with them. But I had to accept it was true. We weren’t going to study the same things at university. We didn’t even attend the same university.

“I met a few lucky people during that time and that’s how I can afford a large condo that looks out over Central Park. My sibling didn’t study business. Wanted to be a teacher. No big deal.

“When we were twenty-four, she started presenting as a woman and figured out she was trans. I reacted poorly. Not to her face, mind you. To her, to family, I was the devoted brother. I paid for her transition. The same surgeon who gave me the breasts you continue to fondle made hers too.”

“Should I stop?”

“Of course not. Just try not to breath in my ear. It’s too soon for distractions if want the whole story.”

“Got it.”

“I could never understand how we could have been so identical and then so unique. I thought there was something wrong with me. The stupid part of that was not telling anyone for the next twelve years. Last summer something snapped. I told my fiancé, Martin – I’ve mentioned Martin before, right?”

“Yes. He sounded like a wonderful guy from what you said.”

“He’s amazing. And I pushed him away, again, with the breasts in your hands. He had no use for a partner with tits. And he didn’t understand what I was doing.

“Which is fair because I didn’t understand either. At the time, I started taking female hormones and got breast implants and would only dress in dresses. It was so unfair to him.

“When he left me I melted down even more. I believed I needed to show Wendy I was able to be a woman too.”

“Able to be?”

“Yes, God, that was my mindset at the time. I was just a fucking idiot. I was totally fucked up. I went to Wendy’s home during a Halloween party. My costume, I said, was that I was dressed as Wendy. I even wore an outfit I had seen her wear on multiple occasions. This was before I had my hair dyed this red-violet color. We were both blond. I looked exactly like her. Marisol kicked me out.”

“Wendy’s wife.”

“Yes. That was my rock bottom. It sounds like I was an addict and perhaps I was. I was trying to be just like my twin. I had lost all sense of self. For weeks, I didn’t leave the condo.”

“What about work?”

“A few months earlier, over the course of spending time pretending to be a woman, I lost my place at work. It was a high pressure, big finance Wall Street job. Lots of big dick energy. At first, all my friends and workmates were supportive of my wanting to transition. But they weren’t. They were frat boys in business suits. Some of them would fondle my ass in front of other people and I didn’t think anything of it. Eventually I was no different to them than the personal assistants they were cheating on their wives with and telling they would leave their wives to be with them some day. It’s amazing how easy it is to get someone to believe they aren’t just a good fuck when you’re their boss.”

“That’s awful.”

“I had them buy me out and retired early. I already have more money than I can spend. Before I went a little nuts, sadly, I had office assistants I would bang and lie to: Lyle, Oscar,... crap. I remember the last one’s wonderful cock but not his name.” She was quiet for a moment. Tom couldn’t tell if she was kicking herself for being an ass or if she was still trying to remember the man’s name. “In any case, when it happened to me, I thought I deserved the karmic retribution for being a scumbag myself.”

She paused in her storytelling as Tom’s fingers rubbed her nipples. She purred in appreciation before moving his hands into a more cupping position on her tits.

“Not so intense. Where was I? Oh, yeah. One day as I wallowed in the condo I ran out of booze and I couldn’t get any delivered. I was going to take a quick trip to a corner store when I passed my wardrobe and realized I missed getting guzzied up. I showered. I have no idea how long it had been since I’d showered. I got dressed, put on the warpaint, and went out to a club. I hadn’t felt alive in over a month at the time. I felt free. And I felt… I felt feminine.

“Guys were hitting on me and I didn’t want to play it safe. I wanted to get fucked. All I had to do was find a guy who wasn’t straight as an arrow. Turned out that wasn’t too difficult. For the next couple weeks I’d go home with a different guy. Each time they called me beautiful it felt right.

“I was a woman. I am a woman.”

“So it worked.”

“What worked?”

“Turn around.” She turned to face him as he continued, “You started out with the desire for you and Wendy to be identical twins again. Along the way, you discovered you are both trans woman twins.”

“I… That wasn’t…”

“You got implants. You took hormones. What did you think you were doing?”

“Pretending. It was just cosplay. Very expensive cosplay.”

“Was it? You could have stopped and gone back to being Bryan in several obvious places in the story you’ve told. You let a bunch of frat guys treat you like a piece of ass. All that was just pretending?”

“No,” she whispered. “I liked it. I wanted it. I’ve always been the inner spoon in a relationship.”

“Martin told you to find yourself and you did. You’ve always known. You just didn’t believe yourself.”

“Not always. I could never have put this feeling into words as late as a year ago. But you’re right I should have known. I pushed that feeling away and replaced it with nostalgia of being twin brothers.

”God, Tom. I wasted so many years…”

“No, no, no. Those years were necessary to get you to this place. And I have to admit I benefit from being here for you at the right time. One thing? How did you end up all morose in a bar when I met you?”

“After a month of hedonism, I saw Wendy while I was out. She didn’t see me. I hid from her even though I wanted to just run up and hug her. I was painfully reminded that the goal had never been to get fucked. I spiraled into a funk but I refused to just stay home. I hopped between a dozen bars before I found Takeoffs and Landings. I had been going there for over a week when this guy had the audacity to ask me to help him choose what woman in the bar he should hit on.”

“And yet you called him.”

“Clarise, the bartender, saw me looking around for you. She waited a week before she said to me, ‘Are you looking for Tom? He left you this.’”

“’If you need to talk, I can be your Wingman,’” Tom said. “I was so glad you called.”

“You just wanted a challenge.”

“Perhaps at first. You needed stability.”

“And someone who wouldn’t put up with my nonsense.”

“I have to exercise my part of that bargain again. I’m glad you felt you could tell me your story,” Tom said. “But, you need to tell it again to someone else.”

She cried. He held her. “Wendy,” she said wiping tears from her eyes. “If I invite her and Marisol to dinner on Friday will you attend?”

“I am your Wingman.”

Demon In The Attic

With a gust of wind tinged with sulfur and nary a sound, the demon appeared in the crudely drawn circle on the attic floor. The demon was mostly humanoid. Eight feet tall with leathery, bat-like wings, its feet were hoofed and its legs bent back in the manner of the hind legs of a goat. From the waist up, other than its red skin and horns like those of ram, it resembled a shapely woman. Its face was slightly elongated, its eyes were an unnaturally glowing yellow, and its teeth were disturbingly sharp. It could have been frightening except that it was obviously extremely bored.

“By Nysquenth, by Olglav, by Herraclitor, I command thee ….” the lone, frail man intoned the words of power meant to bind the demon to his service. The demon’s mouth moved along with the man’s in a mocking manner. It had heard these oaths a thousand times before. And they never meant anything. It would have laughed but the man had obviously spent a lot of time researching and memorizing the litany of names. No reason not to let him use that knowledge while he yet lived.

Looking around, the demon was disappointed that the floor beneath it wasn’t in contact with undisturbed Earth. It was in the air, on plain wood. No way to open a hellscape here. It dipped its right hoof through the floorboard and was shocked when it could not descend more than the thickness of the board itself.

Curiosity dismissed the ennui and the demon listened once more to the man. He was no longer reciting the standard ritual. He was reciting an older ritual, one that was actually binding. The demon’s face went from bored to panicked in an instant. The crudely drawn circle around it was an illusion. The real circle was actually one first used by a Sumerian Priest forgotten by history, but known to this demon as Erislugal.

The demon lunged for the man and slammed into an invisible force that stopped it from leaving the circle. It tried to fly upward only to find wards on the ceiling. It already knew there were wards on the floor. It was trapped.

“Do you yield?” The man said. His voice had been shaky when the ritual started. But, having witnessed the demon stopped by the wards, his confidence rose.

“What do you want?” The demon spat at the man with all the malevolence it could muster. Its form would lead one to expect a sultry contralto voice. And the demon could speak that way. This voice sounded like rocks crashing together.

“I want you to yield. Do you yield?”

“Never. When I escape I will enjoy…”

“Devouring my entrails and painting the room with my blood. Yes, yes. It will save us a lot of time and gnashed teeth if you just yield.”

“Never.”

“Fine. I’ll be back.” The man said. He snuffed out the four lit candles in the room and left the attic.

* * *

Time passed. The wards remained as strong as they had been the day the demon had been summoned. There was an electronic device in the room. Occasionally, the man’s voice would emit from it: “Do you yield?” Each time the demon would respond, “Never.”

The man returned to the attic a few months later. “I do not yield,” the demon said.

“I figured as much. I’m just changing the batteries on the baby monitor.”

“Baby? Monitor?”

“Yes, the device I’m using to monitor you. Takes too much energy to climb up here just to have you say, ‘Never.’”

“But, why Baby?”

“Usually we use these devices to eavesdrop on sleeping babies to make sure they aren’t distressed.”

“So you consider me a baby?”

“Only metaphorically. You are a being of pure chaos, pure id, and pure evil. But, the fact that you don’t even know why I summoned you as you remain steadfast in your unwillingness to yield to me could be equated with the tantrum of a child.”

“We are not all pure id.”

“If you say so.”

“Or pure evil.”

“Do you yield?”

“Never.”

“Enjoy the rest of your stay.” The man left.

“He’s enjoying this too much.”

The monitor squawked, “Immensely.”

* * *

Years passed. The man rarely asked the demon if it would yield any more. The demon could not feast on its own misery. Yet, yielding was never entertained by its mind.

One day, a child peered at the demon from the stairs, a boy of about eight years. Only its head peeked above the floor. The demon was twirling its tail in a circle. It was ignoring the child to see if he would come closer. The child slipped away.

Several weeks later, the child returned to the top of the stairs. It watched the demon, which seemed to be asleep.

It wasn’t. It was still hoping the child would come closer.

Several months later, the child watched the demon sleeping. He stood up and walked toward the table with the baby monitor on it. He was standing right at the edge of the circle when the demon opened its eye.

The demon had actually been sleeping. But a demon is never startled. It looked at the boy.

“Where are your clothes?” The boy said.

“I don’t wear clothes,” the soft feminine voice said.

“That’s icky. You should wear clothes.”

“I don’t have any clothes. Will you give me some clothes?”

“No. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“Why are you here?”

“Dad says I can’t come up here. I wanted to know why.”

“And now you know.”

“Yes. Why are you here?”

“I can’t leave.”

“I find that hard to believe. You must be very powerful. Look at the muscles on your legs and arms.”

“I’ve had plenty of time to workout while I’ve been here.”

The boy laughed. “I’ve never seen you workout.”

“You’ve watched me a lot?”

“Enough. I’ve sneaked up close to you before without you noticing before.”

“You have?”

The boy tilted his head to the left, looking past the demon. The demon followed where the boy was looking and a crayon drawing of the demon it had never noticed before was taped to the wall. “You have. Amazing that you could sneak past a demon.”

“I’m special.”

“Everyone is.”

“Of course,” the boy said, he seemed pleased with himself. “Don’t you want to leave this attic?”

“Of course. But I can’t.”

“You can.”

“I am trapped.”

“I could help you.”

“How would you do that?”

“Do you yield?”

“WHAT!?” The demon’s voice was deep and angry “How dare you?”

The boy laughed. He stepped back from the edge of the circle. “Dad was right. That is fun. Have a good day.” The boy emphasized the word good. He turned and skipped to the top of the stairs.

Once the boy was gone, the demon said, “You dare mock me.”

“You are infinitely mockable,” the man said from the monitor.

* * *

“Why haven’t you ever told me your name?” the demon cooed as it tried to entice the teenager.

“Because I’m not an idiot,” he said.

“Doesn’t your father get mad when you come up here?”

“Of course. But I know better than to get anywhere near you. I just come up to look at you. You use to be taller and have wings.”

“I have to conserve my energy. You use to complain about my lack of clothes.”

“I’ve gotten use to it. You are terrifyingly beautiful.”

“That isn’t a compliment.”

“It isn’t?”

“No, where I come from, I use to have thousands of underlings who would feed me the lust I crave. Now I just get lust from your nightly dreams. You don’t make up for the army of demons I use to command.”

“Don’t you still command them?”

“I’m sure my lieutenants have divided my forces among themselves by now. I’ll have nothing when I return.”

“Poor you. Perhaps the tactical decision not to yield on the day you were summoned was a mistake.”

“I doubt it. When I return I’ll rebuild my forces in no time and you and your father will be but a memory to remind me to be ever vigilant.”

“Oh, yes, I remember Dad saying you underestimated him as he rattled off the Latin ritual names. I wish I could have seen your face when it dawned on you that he knew what he was doing.”

“Your father got lucky.”

“Sure. I’m sure that he bagged a demon of your caliber with luck.”

“You are trying to get a rise out of me.”

“If I wanted to do that I’d just say…”

“I do not yield!”

The teen boy laughed.

“Begone. I do not wish to speak with you any longer.”

“You thought this might be the time you tempted me?” He laughed again. “Are you sure your ruled an army? Maybe you were a figurehead for, what was the name, Krilladulus’ army.”

“How do you know that name?”

“I heard you say it a couple years ago when you first told me of your armies. Is your memory slipping? Have you been so far from home that you are starting to actually weaken?”

“I will not weaken.”

“And you will not yield. Yes, yes. When was the last time you manifested your wings. Oh, right, you are ‘conserving’ energy.” The demon could hear the quotation marks around “conserving.” The teen continued, “Except for the red skin and tail, you are looking mostly human. I think you were taller as well.”

The demon looked over its shoulder before looking back at the boy. “You use to be smaller.”

“True. But I’m not weakening.”

“I don’t have to prove myself to you.”

“No. Of course not. You’ve got it all under control.”

The demon didn’t respond.

“Well, that’s all I have time for today. Thanks for entertaining me. I’ll be back in sixteen months, if I don’t forget.”

“You won’t forget.”

“You hope I won’t forget. It will be all you think about while I will put you out of my mind most of that time, hanging out with my friends, doing school work, laughing, playing, living. You’ll stand here and stew, counting the hours until I return.”

The demon attempted to remain stoic.

“I’m going to imagine that face was the face I referred to before.” He walked down the stairs.

“I didn’t make a face.”

“I didn’t make a face!” The demon repeated.

Silence filled the attic for several moments before an older man’s voice from the baby monitor said, “I know exactly what face you made during the summoning. I bet the face he just saw was similar.”

The demon screamed in anger and shame.

* * *

“You finally return?” The demon said.

“Ha, I’m not my father,” the adult man said. “I might look like him. But you’ve been here about as long as I’ve been alive. Close to forty years.”

“A paltry amount of time for one such as myself.”

“Is your skin human colored? Where’s your tail? And goat legs? Can’t even maintain your goat legs? I notice your apparent age is closer to thirty than to twenty.”

The demon looked away from the man.

“Another twenty years and you probably won’t need to be asked to yield.”

“That will never happen.”

“My father believed he was summoning a lust demon. But I believe he trapped a hubris demon. Even if you don’t admit it to me, admit to yourself that you have weakened.”

“I am well aware of my current strength.”

“Of course you are.”

“Dad is sick. That’s why you probably haven’t heard him on the monitor recently.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you’ve know him for nearly forty years. I thought you might care.”

“Demons don’t care.”

“You are barely a demon, Ysrandra.”

Her body stiffened at the sound of her true name. She turned immediately to face the man. She nearly broke. “How?”

“He always knew your name. He only told it to me recently.”

“He didn’t need to ask if I yield if he knew my name.”

“No, he didn’t. He could have seized power from you at any time.”

“Why?”

“You never asked him why he summoned you.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“But it did,” the man said. “He only wished to have comfort in his old age.”

“He could have taken it.”

“What good is comfort if it is commanded by true name? What was he going to say ‘true name, I desire a comforting hug.’ That’s ridiculous. If you had yielded, he’d have negotiated a companionship with you, to last these same forty years or so and you’d have returned to wherever you come from fully charged when he died.”

“This is nonsense. Who summons a lust demon for comfort?”

“Are you saying you can’t give comfort?”

“Of course I can. I am well versed in all ways to make someone happy.”

“Then why not seek a lust demon for comfort?”

“I don’t need to explain to you how dangerous I am.”

“No, you don’t. I understand because you were the demon in my attic all my life. But if you had yielded, I would have known you only as a mother.”

“What?”

“You ever notice it was just Dad and I here? Mom died in childbirth. You were going to raise me. In some ways you did. But not how Dad wanted. He didn’t want me to be versed in the ways of demonology. Yet here I stand.”

“How do you know my apparent weakness isn’t a trick?”

“What would you do if I were to banish you back to your realm?”

He had never seen fear in the demon’s eyes before. It actually surprised him.

“Yes, you don’t want me to do that. Do you, Ys?”

“Fine. I am weak. I am nearly broken. I cannot yield only because of my pride.”

“There. That’s the temptation. Nice try.”

“You are so annoying. Why do you torment me? Yes, I realize the irony of that.”

“I need to sell the house soon. And I can’t just leave you here for the next owner to find.”

“Are you sure you can’t do that?” A joyous gleam played across the demon’s eyes for the first time in a long time.

“Really?” He said. “I am going to leave again. I’ll be back in but a few weeks. If you do not yield at that time, I will banish you. And you will be devoured by whatever demon finds you first. Perhaps I can use that as a bargaining chip with Krill…”

“Do not say his name again?”

The man smiled. “Oh? Would that be bad?”

“Don’t toy with me.”

“This was probably be my last chance to do so. See you in a few weeks.”

* * *

It was actually a few months later when he returned to the attic. A woman of an apparent age of about forty years stood in the summoning circle. There was nothing to suggest she was a demon. The perpetual scowl she usually wore was replaced by a face of resignation. She noted he held a bag.

“You were supposed to return sooner.”

“Time means nothing to a demon.”

“I yield.”

“Formally, please.”

“As written in the pact of Erislugal and Modeus, I formally yield to the summoner. We may parley for three days before my release or servitude.”

“Lovely, but wrong. I am not the summoner. I don’t accept. Nice try.”

“It was all I had left.”

“I understand. Also, standard one hundred years term this time.”

“I thought I was to be a companion with the ability to make choices.”

“That was what my father wanted. You’re dealing with me now.”

She considered her options briefly. “As written in the pact of Erislugal and Modeus, I formally yield to the controller of my prison. I place myself in his service for a period not longer than one hundred years and a day.”

“I accept your terms.”

He held up the bag and said, “Come put on the clothes in this bag.”

“I can create my own clothing.”

“Can you?”

She closed her eyes and opened them again. Nothing had happened. She stared at her body for a few seconds before saying, “Give me the bag.”

“Just come over here and take it.”

She looked at him as if he were forgetting something obvious. He grinned at her wickedly. She took a step toward the edge of the circle. And another step through it into the rest of the room. She reached out and took the bag.

“See that wasn’t so hard,” he said.

“When did it fail?”

“I think the house settled. It’s an old house. There’s a crack in the real summoning circle on the ceiling below this floor. Perhaps two years ago, I’d estimate.”

She pulled a pair of lacy panties from the bag to put on. She said, “I should be more upset about the circle having been broken.”

“You probably should be. When I saw the ceiling, I expected you to be long gone. Or to make another attempt to tempt me somehow.”

“I’m use to being the one who does the whipping.”

“Was that a joke?”

“An attempt.”

“Not bad,” he said. “I am going to remind you once. I know your true name. You are my servant without the power of using your true name. Whatever imagined indignity you feel right now is nothing compared to what I can do to you.”

“I have yielded. Do you wish to have sex here? You have desired to do so for a long time.”

“Tempting. But I don’t want you to regain your power too quickly. Not before we’ve developed a routine.”

“I am so horny. What? Why did I say that?”

“Part of demon servitude is an inability to lie to me.”

“I thought that was a myth.”

“You have never served a human before?”

“I have never served any being before.”

“This may be more fun than I thought it would be.”

“I am dressed.”

“Great. Here’s a rag. Wash the circle off the floor.”

She got down on the floor and washed it clean.

“Bet you’d have loved to do that four decades ago.”

“You’ve already said that wouldn’t have helped me. You have a cruel streak, don’t you?”

“Remember what I said about being raised by you? Although, if I were truly cruel, I would banish you now that you finally yielded and thought you were safe.”

She looked at him with a new found respect in her eye.

“I wouldn’t be able to witness your destruction by the other demons so it isn’t worth giving up your servitude for a moment of passing cruelty.”

She looked at him lustfully. “This may be more fun than I thought it would be.”

“That is one powerful musk you just emitted. Were you saving that last bit of power?”

“I was.”

“It didn’t work.”

“I know. That turns me on even more.”

“You will get fucked eventually. There might even be sex involved.”

“Yes, Master.”

The man was well-aware she’d said that as a calculated gambit to gain his trust. Still, as he led her down the stairs for the first and only time, he couldn’t stop the smile on his own face that had resulted.

Trust Machines Short - Birthday Cake

“Why are we here?”

“My friend Georgia’s birthday.”

“Georgia? You haven’t introduced me to any Georgia.”

“Haven’t seen her in a year,” Merry said, kissing her boyfriend, Caleb. “You and I met a couple months after her last birthday.”

“Oh. Why haven’t you seen her?”

“That’s a surprise.”

“A surprise? Isn’t a surprise party for the birthday person?”

“In this case it’s for you.” Merry stood up on the sofa in the living room and said, “Hey, everybody. Who else besides Caleb hasn’t met Georgia?”

A couple people admitted they hadn’t.

Tonia stood in front of the couch. “Get down.” She said to Caleb, “It feels like you’ve been dating Merry forever. It’s been less than a year?”

“’Fraid so,” he said. “What’s the surprise?”

“You didn’t say? I’m not saying. You’ll know in eighty-seven minutes or so,” she said looking at her phone. A timer was displayed on the surface, counting down to zero.

Eric handed Caleb a birthday hat. “Put this on.”

“No one else is wearing one.”

“Holly and Greg are wearing them,” Eric said, pointing out the two others wearing hats. “It signifies you never met Georgia.”

“Why is that important?”

“We don’t want anyone spoiling the surprise. So everyone knows you never met her because you have the hat.”

The party continued. More people arrived. Some gifts were sitting on the dining table. Two more hats were handed out.

“Why is there an empty cake plate on the table with a bunch of used candles on it?”

“That was from her last birthday.”

“She was delici...”

“Hush.”

Greg approached Caleb. “Any ideas?”

“What? Oh the hat. No idea.”

“Holly has no clue either.”

“You’ll know in like ten minutes,” Merry said. She put her arms on his shoulders and kissed Caleb. “It’s all in fun.”

Tonia announced, “One minute. Places.”

The crowd gathered around the table. Once gathered, the crowd started singing the birthday song. Just before it ended, a woman appeared, standing on the table where the empty cake plate sat.

Cheers erupted. Birthday well-wishes were called out. A couple people said, “Welcome back.”

Abe helped her down from the table. Tonia placed a cake in the spot she had been standing and Georgie blew out the burning candles. More cheers were made.

“What happened?” Holly said, not far from an equally confused Caleb.

Greg was laughing. “She was venned.”

“Into an empty cake plate?”

“No, last year she was venned into the most delicious birthday cake.”

“You didn’t get to taste her? Too bad. I doubt this cake will be as good.”

“A birthday cake?” Holly said. “Everyone ate her?”

“It was her idea. Tell her, G.”

“What was my idea?”

“All this.”

“Oh, yes. It was my idea to be eaten on my birthday and restored on my next birthday.”

Before they could ask more questions, she was pulled away by other friends who wanted to talk to her.

“How does someone loss a year like that?”

“She probably gains it back by living a year longer than she otherwise would.”

“Unless she dies from an accident,” Caleb said.

“Don’t be so down.”

“He has to be. He didn’t get to eat her last year.”

“Oh, she was so delicious.”

RENDER - What's That Noise

I thought the MANIP of What's That Noise would translate to 3D Rendering easily. When I attempted to render this in Daz, it was just panel 4 without the insert and without the statue of Jessica down the hall. The original transcript didn't seem as interesting.

I turned it into a comic. The comic is better. (or is it? You decide.) Still, it is finished even though I'm thinking it needs more. It doesn't. But, I have this pull to add animations for both petrifications and then have Thenno walk by satisfied with her work. It was just a single panel with a couple hundred words of text. It shouldn't need 20-30 renders. Whoever said a picture is worth a thousand words was off by a lot.

Don't have the assets to give her wet hair or to make the statue have water on it (I did download a Medusa Hair asset. But, I'll save it for later.)

Comic Transcript

Panel 1

Thinking: Sure was nice of Thenno to invite us all up to her family lake house.

It's gorgeous up here.

When she said folk often stare at the views forever, I thought she was exaggerating.

This shower is warm. Wasn't expecting that given how cold the lake was.

Off-panel Scream: AAAAHHH!!

Panel 2

Jessica shouting: RUN!!!!!

Inset thought: NO!!

Panel 3

Thinking: Someone's yelling about someone turning into a statue? What? Haha. Look at Jessica just standing there like a...

Panel 4

(Stoney Silence)

EDIT: From David Fenger's comment, I've put a small addition as a bonus image.

MANIP - What's That Noise?

Beware of invitations to cabins in the woods.

See also, the 3D Render version of this idea.

Original Transcript

This shower isn't as cold as I expected after our impromptu swim in the lake. It was nice of Thenno to invite up to her family's lake house for the weekend. She said she's had friends who would stare at the views forever.

Didn't notice anyone staring forever but the view is rather stunning.

What is all that yelling? Did someone just say someone was turned to stone? What does that mean? I bet they're pranking. Let me take a look.

Ha ha, look at Jessica. She's just standing there like she can't move. Is her skin turning gray? Oh, there's Thenno. She's looking in my...

...

...

Magic Shoppe - Romp

The woman saw her friends sitting at a booth at the bar. She got a beer from the bar and joined them in the booth.

“Sylvia?” Robert said. “Is Eric parking the car? You don’t usually come to these boy’s nights out.”

Sylvia took a long drink from her beer. “It’s a long story.”

“You drink beer?” Said Timmy. “I’ve never seen you drink anything but wine or a margarita.”

She took another drink. “The short story is I’m Eric.”

“Eric isn’t that good looking, Syl.”

“Haha. Sylvia, Eric at the moment, got her hands on some magic thing that swaps people’s minds.”

“Where did she get such a thing?”

“There’s this place called the Magic Shoppe downtown.”

“I’ve seen that place,” Robert said.

“Yeah, didn’t Tony’s wife go there for her Genie costume last Halloween?”

“Oh, right. That was how she was able to appear as smoke from a genie bottle.

Sylvia took another drink. “Be that as it may, I’ve been in her body and she’s been in mine every weekend ever since.”

“You better ease up. Sylvia’s body probably can’t handle more than one of those beers.”

“I know.” She said, finishing off her beer. “I don’t mind indulging her. Being a woman has a few perks. I didn’t pay for this beer, for example.”

“Is that why that guy at the bar hasn’t taken his eyes off you?”

“Probably,” she said without looking over at the bar. “I told him I was meeting friends. He and his buddy probably assumed my friends were other women.”

“Not unless Sylvia, or Eric, gets our wives to convince us to do what you did.”

“At least, we know who wears the pants in Eric’s marriage.”

“The other advantage is sex. Eric doesn’t always get me off when we fuck. The first time we had sex swapped, he was totally shocked that he couldn’t last as long as it took to get me off. He apologized for like three days about ever giving me shit for finishing first on her.

“When I do orgasm, it is ten times better than when I do as Eric. No contest. I don’t know if that’s all women, or just my nympho wife.”

“You’re saying Sylvia could easily be a slut and you’re her now.”

“I saying she has infinite restraint that I don’t possess. And right now I’m buzzed and you two look delicious.”

“Wait, you want us to fuck your wife?”

“I want you two to fuck me.”

“While you’re wearing your wife’s body?”

“I suppose that is also true.”

“Wait, you want both of us to fuck you? Who goes first?”

“Simultaneously.”

Robert jabbed a fist into Timmy’s arm. “Ha, he almost got us.”

“Um… yeah.”

“This was a test to see if we would dishonor his wife.”

“Of course, a test. And we passed.”

“Yes.”

“Oh, my fucking god,” she said standing up, a slight sway to her step. She poked Richard in the sternum. “I want your dick in my mouth.” The finger that had poked him in the chest was now inches from her mouth. With her other hand, she pointed at Tim, “And your dick in my pussy.” That hand swung down to her skirt and then she crossed arms to point the men. “And then after we all cum, you two swap and we do it again. Now, let’s go. Sylvia, I mean, Eric won’t be home until tomorrow afternoon.”

The two men shrugged and the three of them left the bar earlier than normal.

<<<<>>>>

“I can’t believe you both fucked me.” The three of them lay in bed together in Sylvia’s and Eric’s apartment. Sylvia was spooned up against Richard, his cock limp against the small of her back. Tim was facing her, his index finger tracing a circle around one of her erect nipples. She wiped something wet off the corner of her mouth and sucked it off her finger.

“No.” Robert wagged a finger in the air.

“No, no,” Tim said.

“You don’t get to say that,” Robert said.

“I was drunk.”

“You were not.”

“You were barely buzzed.”

“This could be considered gaslighting.”

“Except we asked you a dozen times between the bar and the bed if your were sure.” Robert took out his phone and played a video. The two men can be clearly seen asking if the woman in the video consents, clearly reminding her that she’s in her wife’s body, warning her that if her wife finds out she’ll kill her, etc. The video goes on for ten minutes repeating the questions over time.

Timmy took out his phone and recorded Sylvia watching Robert’s video

“Okay, I consented.”

“You instigated.”

“That, too,” Sylvia said. “Ready to go again?”

Timmy tapped record on his phone. “Are you sure you want to have sex with Robert and Timmy even after having watched yourself consent to sex in the prior evening?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you want to have sex with Robert?”

“Are you sure you want to …?”

<<<<>>>>

“Thanks for fucking me a third and fourth time.”

“You are a good lay. Never thought I’d tell you that Eric.”

“I married Sylvia for a reason.”

“Where was she tonight and this morning?”

“Eric is with Sylvia’s best friend doing what we’ve done here.”

“Elaine?” Timmy said.

“Yes. I can’t wait to ask her about it.”

“You aren’t telling her about this, right?”

“I probably will.”

“What?”

“Look. She’s going to know we fucked. When I went out she said, ‘Don’t do anyone I wouldn’t do.’ Now, I don’t think she would fuck you two. But I don’t want to tell her I fucked a random guy. She’d have a lot of questions. She knows you two. No questions needed.”

“You hope.”

Timmy looked at his phone. “I gotta go. I promised Laura we’d do some gardening after going to the garden store.”

Sylvia sat up and pulled Timmy into a kiss. “Thanks for being a good friend.”

“I have no idea how I’m going to look Eric in the eye after this.”

“I could show up to our weekly bar nights like this from now on.”

“Please don’t.” He left.

“You have to leave, Richard?”

“Actually I was hoping Timmy would leave so I could solve a personal issue.”

“Oh?”

“I take a lot of pride in my bedroom etiquette. I can’t sixty-eight in good conscience.”

“Sixty-eight?”

“You do me and I’ll owe you one.” He said, his hand slid down her stomach and his finger slipped into the folds of her labia.

“You want to eat me out?”

“Yes.”

“What are you waiting for?”

“The slut has to open her legs first.”

“Are you calling me a slut?” she said as she did as he told her to do.

“You are a slut,” he said, moving to get between her legs.

“I am a slut. What are you going to do to your naughty slut?”

“I’m going to prove just how slutty she is.”

“Oh god, how did? Oh!!”

After fifteen minutes, he had brought her to the edge of coming and stopped. The second time she said, “Aren’t you going to finish me? This slut needs to come.”

“Not like this.” He got off the bed and pulled a straight-backed chair over. He sat down. “Lay over my lap.”

“Oh, god, yes, punish this slut.”

“Shut up and get over here. I haven’t got all day.”

“Yes, sir,” she said. She lay over his lap. A small shutter ran down her body.

“Did you just orgasm in anticipation?”

“Not a big one.”

He put his finger into her vagina. “I swear you are wetter now than when I was licking you.”

“I’m a naughty slut.”

A crack of the air resounded through the room as his hand slapped her ass cheek.

“I’m a naughty slut,” she said again.

He responded with another firm slap on her other ass cheek. “Keep saying that until I command you to stop.

“I’m your naughty slut.”

“I’m your naughty slut.”

“I’m your naughty slut.”

Each time she repeated the phrase, he delivered a slap to her ass.

“I’m… fuck… fu-u-uck!” The orgasm she experienced lasted for a good moment. Robert slapped her ass twice during it, prolonging the ecstasy.

She panted for several moments afterward. His hand rubbed against the tender skin of her ass giving her a mixture of painful and pleasure-filled sensations. “This slut doesn’t deserve such relief.”

“No, she doesn’t. Do you have handcuffs?”

“The dresser, bottom right drawer. What do you have in mind?”

He grabbed her by the shoulders and stood her up. She wobbled on weak knees, her body was a rag doll in his hands. He stood and planted her on the chair. Pain flared in her mind as her red ass slammed down onto the hard wooden surface.

When she opened her eyes after wincing from the pain, Robert was holding a few items he’d found in the fun-times drawer. He was looking at her. “Don’t squirm on the seat. You’ll get use to it faster.”

“Yes, sir. What are you going to do to your slut?”

He came back to the chair. He put her shoulders flat against the back of the chair and locked her arms behind her. He put leg cuffs on her ankles and locked them in place tucked under the chair. He went back to the drawer.

She could not lift herself up leaving her raw ass firmly situated on the chair. “If you care at all for your slut, you’ll grab the vibrator too.”

“I was planning to include that.” He tossed a couple things on the bed before putting the vibrator between her legs. He lifted her slightly so the round head of the ball vibrator was pinned against her pussy. He turned it on low.

“Oh god.”

“Does Eric do this to his slut?”

“Eric’s never spanked me.”

“Will he?”

“Depends on what you do next.”

Robert straddled the chair. His erection was in her face. “I’ll stop if you say Red Rum.”

“That’s not disconcerting,” Sylvia laughed. “If I blow you, won’t you owe me one, again?”

“That would be true. But you aren’t blowing me?” He grabbed her by the hair and shoved his cock in her mouth. “I’m fucking you slut face.”

The assault on her throat was harsh. He let her up for air frequently at first until he pressed her face against his crotch. “Do sluts breathe?” When he pulled her off he didn’t immediately push back into her until he made eye contact with her. She winked. He mouthed the word, “Okay,” and continued fucking her face.

“Deep breath,” he said as he pulled her off again. After he heard her inhale, he pushed her flat against his crotch and said, “Don’t let a drop escape your lips.” His body shuttered and warm cum filled the back of her throat as more than one release filled her mouth. After a moment he pulled out of her throat but remained in her mouth. She audibly was breathing through her nose. “Show it to me.”

He pulled out and she opened her mouth to show it was full of his cum. He reached down and turned the vibrator up a couple notches.

“Swallow?” She managed to say without any dripping out of her mouth.

“One sec.” Richard put his phone in her face and took a photo. “Okay.”

She swallowed. “Yummy.” Richard was showing her the photo. “Oh god, look at all that snot. That was fucking incredible. Send me that photo.”

Richard grabbed some tissues and wiped Sylvia’s face clean.

“The keys are…”

“I don’t need to know that.” He pushed a ball gag into her mouth. “I’ve got to go. I bet Eric will love finding you like this.”

She squirmed in the chair.

After he got dressed, he noticed Sylvia’s head was lolling to the side a bit. He put his hand on her chin and tilted her head so she was looking at him. “I’ve changed my mind. You aren’t a slut. You’re a whore.” He waved several bills of money in her face before dropping them on the bed. He left the room without another word.

<<<<>>>>

“I don’t know if I should laugh or be concerned,” Eric said as he found Sylvia still tied up in the bedroom. He removed the gag first and rushed out of the room, returning with a bottle of water.

“Where’d you go? Oh, water. Thank god.” Sylvia drank from the bottle greedily.

“I see you had a good time.” Eric removed the vibrator and turned it off.

“Look at your ass.”

“It’s not my ass at the… They spanked you?”

“Robert did. Timmy had already left.”

“I was planning to swap back as soon as I got home. But now I think I’ll wait,” Eric said unlocking the cuffs. When she was free, he picked her up and placed her on the bed face down. “I’ll get some cream for your ass. It’s still beet red.” When he returned with the cream, Sylvia was asleep.

Eric couldn’t take his eyes off her red ass. He started stroking his cock wondering how it would feel to be spanked.

<<<<>>>>

Sylvia woke up around five. She dragged herself into the bathroom and felt less like a chew toy after showering. She was drying off in the bedroom when Eric returned.

“Why was there three hundred dollars on the bed?” Eric said as they went out for dinner, still swapped.

“After Timmy left, Richard and I did a little role playing. When he left, I had graduated from being a slut to being a whore apparently.”

“Maybe we should rent you out again.”

“I don’t think you’d want to deal with the long term effects of that.”

“Probably not.”

“But I should perhaps be charging you.”

“Lucky for me I found three hundred dollars earlier today. How’s my ass?”

She removed the towel and turned so he could see her ass. “A little tender still. Nothing to worry about. How’s it look?”

“We might try that when we swap back. But baby steps.”

“We’ll discuss it then. We aren’t swapping now?”

“No, not until the redness is gone. Besides, you like getting dolled up for a dinner date far more than I do. I got us eight o’clock reservations at Le Monde.”

“What time is it?”

“Nearly six.”

“Okay, get out of here. That’s just enough time for hair and makeup if you leave me alone.”

“Okay, Eric.”

<<<<>>>>

Though she teased him, Sylvia had to admit her husband knew how to make her body stunningly beautiful. She knew exactly when she’d purchased the dress adorning her body and she could not remember ever looking half as pretty when she wore it.

“How do you do that?” Eric asked.

“I don’t know. After our first swap, I spent a lot of time watching online videos. I didn’t want to disrespect your face by making you look like a clown.”

“I’ve watched videos. I can’t do that.”

“You could if you watched more.”

“Maybe I should just have you do my makeup the next time we go out and I’m me.”

“I’d be delighted to make my wife even more beautiful any time she asked.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

“How’s the dress look?” She did a little turn.

“Wonderful. Oh, my, your feet. Don’t tell me you’ve practiced wearing those heels.”

“Okay, I won’t tell you that.”

“Should I sell the swapper? Apparently you’re very good at being a woman.”

“Don’t get weird. You always have this existential crisis when we swap.”

“I’m mostly teasing. Tell me about your night. I assume before Timmy left, your menage-a-trios was a bit more vanilla.”

“Yes, just two guys fucking one woman at once. Totally vanilla.”

“Which of them is better?” he asked her.

“Better at what?”

“Whatever they did to you?”

“Do you really want to know?”

“I want every juicy detail. Leave nothing out.”

“Let me start with the video.” She played the video Robert had played to her the day before.

“I’d say they need to loosen up. But I’m sure Robert was pretty comfortable given how he left you.”

“I thought it was sweet that they worried about your reaction. Robert may have had a little too much fun.”

“You thought they were sweet interrogating you.”

“No, I was horny as fuck and it took forever to get fucked.”

“That makes more sense,” she said. “I’m disappointed. I’ve never done a threesome.”

“Sorry.”

“I wonder if Elaine is busy later.”

<<<<>>>>

At the restaurant, they sat opposite one another. “I still can’t believe you didn’t wear anything under that plunging neckline.”

“And ruin the look? If I have it, I’m going to flaunt it.”

“Tell me more about the guys.”

“If you insist,” she said. “Robert’s dick is thicker and eminently suckable. Tim’s is actually longer. Too long for your throat.”

“Thanks for the heads up.”

Although she was paying rapt attention to every copped feel, stroked cock, licked body part, and thrusted groin, she managed to send a text. Toward the end of his description, she received a text. “Good news. Elaine is interested.”

“Are you kidding?”

“But only if she gets to be you and you’re her.”

“You want Elaine to use my body to fuck you and to fuck her body if I’m in her body.”

“Can’t say I had the idea before a moment ago, but I’m really turned on by the idea of watching you suck your cock while I’m licking her pussy.”

“My pussy.”

“Oh. Right.”

“Tell her we’ll be home by ten?”

<<<<>>>>

‘Eric’ said, “That was great.” His head rested on Elaine’s stomach and he was gently flicking her nipples.

Sylvia was still fondling his balls. “I didn’t know you were a screamer, El.”

“I’m usually not.”

“I couldn’t help myself. When I’m Syl I don’t scream.”

“From what you said, that’s because you’ve had a cock in your mouth.”

“That wasn’t it at all. Elaine doesn’t ramp up as fast as you, Dear. But she explodes harder.”

“Told you Syl,” he said. “Longer burn means better orgasms.”

“I’m fine with my orgasms.”

“Yeah, Eric, yours are good but nothing like mine.”

“I know.”

“Is that why you agreed?”

“I will take any opportunity I can to have a vaginal orgasm. They rule.”

“Well, you can’t keep my body. Male fashions suck. I wouldn’t want to go out wearing your crap. No offense.”

“None taken. I have to admit I like a fine pair of legs in sheer stockings whether I’m looking at her or I am her.”

“We could go on the swapper website and look for someone to swap you with.”

“As much as I’d like to jump at that idea, there are too many non-sexual problems with that idea. And I suspect you would eventually leave me if I weren’t bringing a cock to the marriage.”

“It might take a year or two. I doubt your friends wives would let Robert and Tim do us as often as we would want it.”

They lay there for a while as the sun rose. “Ready to swap back?”

“Syl, do you mind if I do me again? I want to hear my body scream again.”

“I’m always game. Syl?” ‘Elaine’ replied.

She kissed ‘Elaine’. “I’ll go shower, Hun. Have fun.”

<<<<>>>>

“Sylvia, I know we usually swap on Fridays but I thought you wanted to experience what I did from Robert.”

“Oh, I do. Finding you tied up like I did made we want to feel what happened to my body myself.”

He pulled the chair closer to the bed and sat down. “Strip. Your safe word is Red Rum.”

“Have I been bad?”

“You are a most naughty slut. Each second you are still wearing clothes is another spank.”

“Oh, my.” She quickly removed her clothes and approached him.

“I said strip. I didn’t say come here.”

She stopped and put her hands behind her ass, showing off her naked body. “I’m a bimbo slut who needs to be educated.”

“Yes. Now come here and lay over my knee.”

She lay over his knee.

“Put your hands on the floor. If you pick them up, that spank doesn’t count. After each spank, say, ‘please, may I have another.’ Do you understand?”

“Yes, Master.”

The room was silent until the crack of flesh striking flesh reverberated through the room. The pain was instant and she wasn’t sure this was as fun an idea she had thought it would be a moment ago. She heard him clear his throat and she remembered her instructions. “Please, may I have another?”

The pain rushed through her from her other ass cheek.

“Please, may I have another?”

She felt the next one rattle in her vagina and the pain mixed with pleasure in an unexpected way.

“Please, may I have another?”

“Please, may I have another?”

“Please, may I have another?”

She lost count of how many spanks she received. When another spank didn’t happen she was actually disappointed. His hand rubbed her ass. It hurt but the rubbing felt nice. Was that it?

“Stand up.” He helped her stand and in one motion got up and sat her down on the chair. That stung, she cried out in pain. He cuffed her hands behind the chair as she recovered from the throbbing of her ass against he unyielding surface of the chair. Leg cuffs followed.

The pain fogged her mind and she couldn’t remember what happened next until she found his dick throat deep in her mouth. She wondered why he enjoyed being face fucked. He had sounded like he wanted it again and again. She was glad when it was over. She was gasping for breath when she found herself standing in front of the chair looking down at her ruined body. Her face was a mask of tears and snot. Cum leaked from her mouth and one of her nostrils. Her hair was sweaty and matted to her head. And she was Eric and he was in her. Eric held the swapping charm.

“What?” Cool air blew against his wet cock and she was aware that it has just ejaculated.

“Swallow?” she asked, her mouth open so he could see the cum.

“Yes, yes. Swallow.” Eric left and came back with a bottle of water.

She drank it as he poured some into her raw throat. “Have fun with Robert and Timmy tonight.”

“You want me to leave you like this?”

“You could clean my face. But otherwise, yes.”

“No, I’m going to uncuff you. When you can walk, take a bubble bath. You should enjoy the relaxing parts of being me that don’t involve getting fucked.”

“As you wish.”

<<<<>>>>

‘Eric’ arrived at the bar and joined the guys in the booth. He had a glass of wine.

“Sylvia?” Timmy said.

“You can tell?”

“The wine.”

“Oh, shoot. I meant to get a beer but totally forget when I got here.”

“What’s Sylvia doing?”

“Recovering from a spanking and a face fucking with a bubble bath, I hope.”

“Eric really digs that.”

“No, he did that to me and right as he came he swapped us.”

“Did you enjoy it?”

“No. There won’t be a next time unless we’re already swapped.”

“That’s weird that it’s the mind that enjoys that kind of thing, not the body.”

“I was surprised by that myself. Or maybe I was just on edge from the spanking.”

“It’s not for everyone.”

“Laura would cut off my dick and feed it to me if I suggested spanking her,” Timmy said.

“The shoppe where I bought the swapping charm, the proprietor suggested such a thing to me,” Eric said.

“Ripping off Eric’s cock and feeding it to him.”

“Not is so many words. But that he had a charm where that would be possible without the expected blood and death.”

“Don’t tell her.”

“Robert, I tried spanking. It’s not for me,” Eric said.

“Have you spanked Eric?”

“Do you mean him being him or him being me? I’ve delivered no spankings in any form. And I’m not sure I could spank my own ass in this body.”

“That’s too bad. Sylvia’s ass is made for spanking.”

The topic shifted. Sylvia had no problem talking about things Eric enjoyed with the guys. Timmy had to leave early.

Robert said, “I have a request.”

Eric finished his wine. “Jodie called Sylvia a couple days ago. I’m ready.”

“Oh, good. I wasn’t sure how to ask you after the spanking thing.”

“After tonight, we may have to start referring to the four of us as swingers.”

“Do people still use that term?”

“I think so. Let’s go. I still want to fuck my wife later.”

Robert and Eric found Jodie in bed wearing a red lace teddy, a matching garter belt and stockings. Richard kissed her as she sat up. She got up and gave Eric a hug.

“You are Sylvia, right?”

“Would you put a stop to this if I were Eric?”

“I… No. Are you?”

“No, I’m Sylvia. I was just curious.” Eric looked at Robert already naked sitting toward the end of the bed. “I need to get naked.”

“Yes, you do,” Jodie said. She helped Eric disrobe.

“I’ve never done this. How do I sit here?”

“Make out with Robert with your dicks pressed against on another. Then I’ll climb on,” Jodie said.

Eric sat in front of Robert facing him. They kissed and Robert immediately slip Eric his tongue. That revved Eric up. Eric felt a hand on his cock and reached out to put his hand on Robert’s cock. As soon as they were both erect, Robert leaned back as Jodie inserted herself between them, facing Eric.

“Pull it out,” she said over her shoulder.

Robert let go of Eric and removed the butt plug from his wife’s ass.

She easily sat her ass down on his cock. Once he was in, she helped guide Eric into her vagina. Slowly she rode up and down on the two cocks.

Robert’s hands massaged her breasts as she and Eric kissed. His hands were under her ass so he could help her rise up before she dropped back down on the two cocks impaling her.

Each downward thrust was also accompanied by her crying out, “Yes,” two or three times.

Eric lost control when Jodie let out one long yes and he felt her vaginal walls squeezing his cock. “Fuck, yeah,” he said as he came inside her. Robert thrust into her ass a few times before he filled it with his cum. She collapsed forward onto Eric.

Robert said, “Hold her.”

Eric put his arms around her and she snuggled up against him, weeping on his shoulders. Eric mouthed the words, “Is she okay?”

Robert pulled out of her ass and gave it a spank. “She’ll be fine in a moment. She gets extremely emotional after an orgasm.” He walked to the other side of Eric and gently lifted his wife’s face to wipe her tears away and kiss her. It was the tenderest kiss Eric had every witnessed this close without being part of the kiss.

Jodie broke her hold on Eric and he let her go. She sat back and gave Eric a similar kiss. “You were awesome,” she said afterward. “When I get up, there will be a mess. I squirt.”

She got up and a mess poured out of her.

Eric stood up immediately. Robert patted Eric’s ass. He was holding a towel. “Go shower. We’ll clean this up. You probably want to get home to Sylvia.”

“That was beautiful. Thanks for sharing.”

“Thank you. We’ve been looking for a way to do that for a while now.”

<<<<>>>>

A few days later, Timmy found Laura wearing only a fishnet bodystocking when he got home from work.

“What’s the occasion?” He said.

“I need an occasion to do this to my husband?”

She knelt down in front of him and removed his pants. Her tongue flicked across the tip of his cock. She sucked up and down on his erection once he was hard enough.

It was a rare treat when she would do this so he said nothing so as not to jinx it. Eventually, he said, “I’m close.”

Without warning, he felt something that wasn’t her mouth run down the length of his cock. Suddenly, Laura stood in front of him and shoved something into his mouth. She held his head and the shaft in his mouth moved inward and outward until it ejaculated.

He stood there stunned, cum dripping out of his mouth. He had felt it all. It felt no different from when he ejaculated into her mouth. The only difference was he ended up with a mouthful of cum.

He took the cock out of his mouth and grabbed her. He pressed his mouth against hers and pushed whatever cum he could into her mouth. The sloppy kiss continued for a moment.

She broke the kiss laughing. “Fair.”

He was laughing, too, as he swallowed down what remained in his mouth. “I guess you’ve talked to Sylvia since Friday.”

And so it begins...

Remember when I mentioned Adult Visual Novels? Well, I've now spent too much money on Daz3D. You've probably seen pics made in Daz from other folks in our niche of erotica. I figured I've always been a bit unhappy about the legality of the photo manips I've released. Even captions aren't really okay. Well, with Daz I can make my own images about young women who become mannequins, statues, robots, hypnotized, and occasionally lose their heads.

Originally, I was just going to post a boring render. And then, a caption sprung to mind. So, my first Daz3D Caption is called: Off With Her Head. Yeah, I need more everyday props. I mean, who puts a book and car keys on a vanity?

I'm contemplating making a photo book version of Ted's Dolls 1: Jane. The woman above started out as Jane. But, I'm not sure she's Jane enough for me. The worst part of working visually is I've spent a lot of time not describing my character. No even I don't know what they look like. Jane was always dark haired and tall, lithe in my mind. But, I don't think any of the story says so. Emily is blond, short, and thin. Paris has chestnut colored hair, is about as tall as Jane, and is rather curvy. Ted is tall. He wears a sandy blond mop on his head. After that, descriptions are few and far between. Mitch has curly hair, I think. Whitney is blond and conventionally pretty. Tonya and Mike? Earl? Rhana? Richard? Rob? Beverley? Trish? The other poker players, study mates, or Mitch's friends? No idea.

Transcript

"Yes, Marcy, I found my head."

"Where? It was under the vanity bench."

"I couldn't see a thing. My face was wedged up against the back of the vanity. Lucky, I felt my hair and could reel my head in."

"What? No, I haven't reattached it. Why?"

"Distant? Why would I sound...?"

"Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. I have the phone up to my missing ear."

"I know. I know. Ha ha ha ha. I do it all the time."

Trust Machines Short - Up, Up, And Away

A young man sat next to a small table and a large air tank near the entrance to the park. On the table were a few unused balloons.

A little girl dragged her mother toward the table. “Can I have a balloon?”

“I'm afraid not,” the man said. After she pouted, he added, “But, you can help me launch a balloon.”

“Launch?”

“I've run out of string so you wouldn’t be able to hold the balloon. But, look at that clear sky. Wouldn't it look better with a balloon floating away in it?”

The little girl nodded. “Launch the green one.”

“The green one? A wonderful choice. That one is named Claire.” He picked up the balloon and gave it a few stretches. “She'd love to fly away. She looks a little limp at the moment. Doesn’t she?” He put the balloon on to the end of the tank's inflation valve and twisted the knob. The balloon began to fill and strained to lift away. “See how the balloon is already trying to fly away.”

“Is this going to take much longer?” The little girl's mother asked.

“Not at all. As I said, I have no string. Once I tie the end of the balloon off, we're going to let Claire fly off into the sky.”

“Can I launch it?”

“That's the idea, young lady,” he said as he turned the knob the other way. He pinched the end of the balloon as he rolled it off the valve. Then he tied a triple knot in the end of the balloon. “Now, I'm going to hand Claire to you. Don’t let go until you’ve tell her to have a good flight. Then, you let her loose to fly away.”

“Okay,” she said as he handed her the balloon. “Claire, you fly very, very high and very, very far.”

“Tell her who are.”

“I'm Katey, Claire, and I'm going to let you go.” She looked at the man and he nodded. Katey bend down and gave the balloon a big push into the sky. “Bye, bye!”

Not that the balloon needed a push, it was above the tree line in seconds.

“Thanks, Katey, for giving Claire such a lovely send off.”

“Now the blue one,” she said, her eyes still trying to watch Claire as she flew higher and higher.

“No, we have to get going,” her mother intervened.

“I'm sorry, Katey. Only one balloon per customer. Someone else will launch Tom, the blue balloon. I think this young man here wants to launch a balloon.”

Katey stopped watching the green balloon and saw there were two other kids looking at the balloon man expectantly. “Okay, bye, bye, Mister.”

“Before you go to bed, think about how far away Claire must be.”

As she and her mom left, the little boy said, “Do you think the balloon will make it to London?”

“I don't know, young man. Do you want to launch a balloon?”

“Yes, not Tom, the red one.”

“Parker. A splendid choice.”

* * *

Three days later, “I was losing altitude over the lake. I was worried I would have to swim half a mile to get back to shore. But, an updraft took me to the other side and I landed on a road. Must have gotten run over twice,” Tom said.

“I landed on the roof of a house. Took a few hours before the owner came home and we had an amusing conversation about what I was doing on his roof. He was a nice older gentleman though,” Parker said. “He got a ladder out of his garage and help me down. Invited me in and made some tea. He said he never thought about using the Venn machines to something that wasn't alive.”

“Oh, we've infected someone,” Claire said. “I only met her once, but I miss Katey.”

“Katey?” Tom said.

“My launcher. She was a sweet little girl.”

“Oh yeah, I gave her the long spiel.”

“How was your venn, Mark?”

“Being a helium tank is weird,” he said. “It feels like small bits of me were fed into your balloons and then I just sat there for a day before I started filling up a bunch more balloons. Very disorienting when the kids all took one bit of me home and I slowly leaked through the balloon.”

“I’m sure the parents of the kids were confused when those balloons were all completely deflated this morning.”

“We need to buy a helium tank so you don’t end up being both the helium and the tank.”

“Next time.”

--

Note: I'm thinking I might make a few of these short stories and collect them into a single post when they get to deviant Art. Dunno. Next week, and the week after I'll be posting the BigCloset contest entries from New Year's Day. And then... I don't know what will happen here on Tuesdays.

Petrification Hotline

“Hello, my name is Jonathan. Thank you for calling the Petrification Hotline. How may I help you?”

“I’m thinking about getting petrified.”

“And you’re not sure how to do it?”

“What? No. I know someone who has a charm. I… I thought you would talk me out of it. Tell me all I have to live for.”

“I can do that. You’re thinking about getting petrified but you’re having second thoughts? Why did you first think petrification was for you?”

“I… Wait. You encourage and discourage petrification?”

“This isn’t a prevention hotline. We answer all possible questions about petrification. If you need help finding a method to become petrified, we can help. If you want to be petrified but are afraid, we can help. If you have a friend trying to talk you into petrification but you aren’t sure, we can help. If you can petrify someone but prefer to only do it to people who want it, we can connect you to volunteers.”

“And do you help people who get petrified turn back to flesh?”

“No. There’s usually not much of a rush once someone is petrified. People who need that service can just use normal means to get information about restoration. Although, if asked, I can give you a website that collects that kind of information.”

“Oh.”

“Now, forget everything else. What do you want help with?”

“I’m not sure now.”

Jonathan let the statement hang.

The caller continued, “Is it true that once turned into a statue, a person’s mind fades?”

“It varies. Most methods of petrification cause the person to fade eventually. Some of them eliminate the conscious mind immediately. Some fade in an hour or a day. Some, it takes years to fade. And there are rare methods where the statue is fully cognizant forever.”

“How is that known?”

“Mental magic. There are rare mental spells that can read the mind of a statue if a mind is still there.”

“How would I find out whether my friend’s charm fades or not or how fast?”

“You’d have to have a qualified Mentalist examine the charm. That’s not a cheap service, I’m sorry to say.”

“Okay. Maybe I won’t use his charm. I have a lot to think about.”

“Hey, my extension is 6483. If you ever call the hotline again, enter that extension and if I’m working, I’ll take your call.”

“Thanks, Jonathon.”

“No problem.”

* * *

“Hello, my name is Jonathan. Thank you for calling the Petrification Hotline. How may I help you?”

“It didn’t work.”

“What didn’t work?”

“I looked right at him and nothing.”

“I’m afraid I’m not following you. Who did you look at?”

“He had a knife. He and three others entered my lair. I have no idea how they found me. I could hear them talking about slaying the monster. I was so afraid. It worked like it always did on his companions. But, then I looked at him and he was still able to try to stab me.”

“Are you a gorgon?”

“Didn’t I mention that?”

“No. I see. Are you saying your gaze didn’t work on this attacker?”

“Yes. I’ve never had this happen before.”

“You were nervous. Could it have been performance anxiety?”

“It’s never happened before!”

“Perhaps he had some magic that would prevent petrification.”

“Magic like that exists?”

“I’m aware of a handful of charms that might work. People generally don’t like testing those kinds of things.”

“They should be outlawed.”

“Should they? Wouldn’t you enjoy being able to spend time with a living friend?”

“I have living friends. We talk over vroom,” she said. “But, if someone has a weapon, I need to know I can stop them in their tracks.”

“I believe there are also some supernatural entities who would be immune to your gaze.”

“I’m aware of that. This was a normal human based on how be bled to death.”

“How did you deal with the man with the knife?”

“I tripped him and then constricted him. His knife pierced his abdomen and he died before I turned him into pulp.”

“Well, I’m sorry you were attacked. Was there anything else?”

“I suppose not. That’s for listening.”

“Call any time. Good day.”

“I will. Good bye.”

* * *

“Hello, my name is Jona—”

“My legs. Oh my god. They’re gray and rough. Oh my god.”

“Ma’am, are you turning to stone right now.”

“Yes. I don’t want to die.”

“Where are you? How fast is the process?”

“It started maybe a minute ago. It’s up to my knees.” She said. She gave an address in a dense, high-traffic part of a city.

“I’ll dispatch a team to your location. I hope they can arrive on time. How did this happen?”

“Eric said he could petrify me. I didn’t think he could.”

“I told you I could,” a soft, distant voice said.

“Put the phone on speaker.”

“Okay.”

“Eric?”

“Yes. Who did she call?”

“The Petrification Hotline. How did you petrify her? It doesn’t sound like you had consent.”

“I had consent. This isn’t my first petrification. We’re in a room with three other statues. Sunny, you said you wanted to be a statue.”

“I thought we were role-playing, you monster.”

“Don’t be like that. Check this out.”

“Oh, fuck, do that again.”

“What’s happening?” Jonathan said.

“More, more,” she said.

“I told her petrification felt really good. I’m touching the stone part of legs and she’s really digging it.”

“Touch me again.”

“Tell the nice man you wanted to be petrified.”

“Yes, yes. He said it felt good. And he lied. It feels amazing.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good enough reason to be turned into a statue.”

“It might not be,” Eric said. “But, it is consent.”

“Not saying it isn’t,” Jonathan said. “Sunny, do you need any other services from the Petrification Hotline?”

“Um… I still don’t want to die.”

“You’ll feel like this forever.”

“I will?”

“Will she?” Jonathan said.

“Verified by Werther Reynolds himself. I have paperwork from him.”

“He is a reputable mentalist, Ma’am.”

“Oh, okay. Thanks for your help.”

“Eric, a team is still on the way. Have that paperwork ready for them to make a copy of.”

“Not a problem.”

* * *

“Hello, my name is Prudence. Thank you for calling the Petrification Hotline. How may I help you?”

“I couldn’t enter the extension 6483. Sorry.”

“Not a problem. Let me look that up. Oh, it’s Jonathan. Did you want to speak with him? He’s a great counselor.”

“Yes.”

A phone rang on the line. “Jonathon.”

“Hey, Jon. Pru. Someone is asking to speak with you.”

“I’m available. Hello.”

“Hi, Jonathan.”

“I remember this voice. Thanks, Pru.”

“Take care.”

“I don’t think you mentioned your name last time.”

“I didn’t.”

“No pressure.”

“Layla.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

“I like it.”

“Have you imagined it chiseled into a pedestal you’re standing on forever?”

“Um…”

“I thought you might have made a decision. I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m still not sure.”

“Okay. What do you need to push you one way or the other?”

“You would stop me from getting petrified?”

“If you don’t want to be, of course.”

“What if I want to be?”

“I would help find a way to do so.”

“But, I’m not sure.”

“If I remember correctly, you have a friend with a petrification charm. Is the problem that you aren’t sure of the quality of the charm? I can put you in touch with reputable purveyors of charms so that you can be sure you’ll be happy with the result.”

“Until my mind fades?”

“Well, of course. That’s goes along with most petrification.”

“I should talk to Sherry. She once told me she had a friend who decided to be petrified.”

“There you go. She might have insight into how others will perceive you when you become perfection, immortalized in stone.”

“That makes it sound amazing.”

“Assuming you aren’t left outside and become so weathered you aren’t recognizable any more.”

“That’s… that’s kind of hot, although a little sad, too.”

“Weathering like that usually takes many years. The lack of recognition is usually because anyone who knew you is dead.”

“Or a statue.”

“That’s the spirit,” he said.

“What about breakage?”

“Also, a sad outcome.”

“Not hot either.”

“I guess I’ll talk to Sherry.”

“Maybe she can show you her friend.”

“I didn’t think of that. I’ll ask her. Thanks, Jonathon.”

“Have a good day, Layla.”

* * *

“Hello, my name is Jonathan. Thank you for calling the Petrification Hotline. How may I help you?”

“Hi, Jonathon. It’s Layla.”

“I recognize your voice. More questions?”

“No, I’ve made a decision. So, I guess I won’t be calling any more.”

“That could mean you are or you aren’t going to be petrified.”

“I know.”

“I’ll just add you to the list of people I don’t know the fate or destiny of.”

“You have such a list?”

“I do. The other hotline staff members try to forget the people who call as soon as they can. But, I like to think my knowing the callers makes what they do more meaningful.”

“I will feel better knowing you’ll remember our time talking.”

“Of course. Anything else?”

“No. Good-bye, Jonathon.”

“Farewell, Layla.”

Mannequin Hair, part 6 of 6

As they approached the lobby, Paul stopped and as Sara stopped and turned to face him said, “No more sneaking into the hotel. But I’m not walking into the lobby with the socialite here either.” He touched her face and said, “Sara.”

Sara could feel something happen and said, “Did you just change my face?” As she said it she could tell it was true because her voice sounded like her own.

“Yes, my dear. Let’s check you into our room. Oh, I almost forgot. Hold your arm out.” As she did he touched her shoulders and said, “Baggage.” A shoulder bag and small travel valise appeared. He took the shoulder bag from her and then took the valise. “Let’s go.”

As they entered the lobby of the hotel and a bell hop rushed forward to take the valise. “I can take that bag if you like,” he said.

“Thanks,” Paul said removing the strap from his shoulder and handing the bag to the bellhop. “You can take them to room 702. We’ll be along in a moment.” He walked to the desk as the bellhop headed for the elevator.

“Mr. Schofeld,” the desk clerk said. “What can I do for you and…?”

“Mrs. Schofeld just flew in to meet me and I would like a second key to the room.”

“Not a problem. You are in suite 702, correct?”

“Yes.”

The clerk handed a keycard to Sara, “Here’s your room key, Mrs. Schofeld.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” the clerk called to them as they turned to leave. He ducked behind the counter and stood up with a flat package. “Mr. Schofeld, you have a package from Franklin Printing.”

“Oh, yes,” Paul said taking the flat package. “Thanks.”

They rode the elevator up with the bellhop. At the door, Sara handed the bellhop her keycard and he opened the door. “It works,” he said as he held the door for Paul and Sara. “Do you want me to put these in the bedroom?”

“No, just leave them there,” Paul replied handing the bellhop a twenty dollar bill.

“Thank you, Mr. Schofeld,” he said as he exited.

“What’s in the package?” Sara asked.

“Let’s play with that later.”

“I can’t get over the fact you can modify the running program,” Sara said as they were finally alone again. She sat down on the sofa.

“You still haven’t explained why you enjoy doing this?” He asked removing his tie and sitting down next to her.

“Doing what?”

“Being a robot or a hooker,” Paul explained animatedly. “You spent the morning basically in a coma waiting for me to come back to the hotel. Yesterday, you spent time taking pictures of mannequins so that your husband could turn you into other people. Hot as it is, it’s also weird.”

“I like making you happy, Paul,” she said touching him gently. As he narrowed his gaze, she continued, “And it turns me on, too. You played along with the alternate personalities too. You treated the hooker like a whore. You were detached from the robot. And when you took control of switching the personalities in and out earlier, that made the game even hotter. Sure the hooker doesn’t care if you call her a whore but if I let it bother me I’d break the scene.”

“So forcing you back into yourself made it better?”

“Oh, definitely,” Sara explained. “But part of it was that I could not control the change in personality. Not having control is thrilling.” She was looking at the remote.

“You want to lose control right now, don’t you?” He asked. He did not pick up the remote.

“Surprise me.”

He reached out and touched her breasts and waited.

“Are you expecting something?”

“I just wanted to see if you would swat my hand away.”

“Well this does feel nice, but I was serious surprise me.”

“Okay,” he said with a dramatic pause then said “Freeze.”

“That’s all you got,” she thought. He took out his phone and started tapping some buttons.

Sara felt her clothes disappear. One moment she was dressed up the next she was wearing nothing at all.

He put down the phone and removed his own clothes. He grasped her breasts and said, “Cocksucker.”

Sara’s felt her mind stepping aside for a new personality but it was not the socialite. The feeling of her mind no longer being her own was one she could not contemplate at the moment as her mind was drained of all thoughts but one. Suck cock. Her entire reason for existence was to lick and suck on cock. The idea that she could smell his cock tantalizingly close but out of reach she could comprehend but with only one thought in her head, her mind was able to devote all its power to that thought. He waved his wonderful cock in her face. She wanted to reach out and grab it and rub in on her face. The scent was divine. She wanted her hands to feel the folds of skin and she stroked it. Her mouth watered in anticipation of the wondrous flavor of flesh, the incredibly soft, yet firm texture of a cock. She wanted the sticky fluid on her tongue, on her face, on her hands, in her hair. She wanted the warm burst of cum in her mouth, coating her throat or on her face where she could lick it off at her leisure. There was so much she could be doing with that beautiful cock in front of her, why can’t I move? She silently moaned.

His incredible cock floated near her face and she resolved to just enjoy seeing. Seeing cock was good if she could not do more. He teased her so badly. He was touching her. Why would he do that if not to put his delicious cock in her mouth? If he must touch me he can do it after his divine cock is slicked with my spit on the tip and the head and covering every luscious slope and curve of his shaft. She watched his cock floating in front of her looking for soft spots on the skin where she knew it would feel better against her tongue. Suddenly, his cock was on her immobile lip and that little touch was heavenly. She could feel his lovely cock and it made her want it more. The scent drove her wild. He said something and suddenly she could move.

Her mouth flew open and sucked his sensuous cock inside without guidance from her hands. She sucked up and down his erect cock from stem to tip and back again and again, relishing the flavor of his cock on her tongue. With her tongue she felt every curve and fold on the surface of his cock. She instinctively mapped this folds and stretches of skin to how he reacted when she touched them. Her tongue touched and pressed and slipped and slid along the surface of his cock like it had eyes, zeroing in on his pleasure points, causing blood to engorge his cock. As his cock grew longer and firmer her mouth stretched exquisitely to keep up with the changing surface conditions and their delightful tastes.

After a moment the first pre-ejaculate fluid slipped from the tip of his cock onto her hopeful tongue. Taste buds exploded with pleasure and her whole body stiffened and locked in place for just an instant as she shivered from head to toe. Then she redoubled her efforts to suck his cock dry.

Each suck included an ambrosia-like taste of his cum and she was in heaven. She wanted to force him to orgasm immediately but she also wanted to go slowly and savor each moment. This was as complex a decision as her one-track mind could handle and she decided to slow down, loosening the tension in her lips to reduce the intensity of the pleasure going to his cock.

She looked up to see him looking down at her. She lifted her head, her mouth coming to the tip of his cock. She smiled with her eyes as her tongue looped around the head of his cock. A dribble of pre-cum appeared on his cock and she rubbed it on her cheek. She wiped it away with a finger and sucked her finger while her other hand stroked his cock several times. She put his cock in her lips and pushed her face forward until her nose reached his crotch, her eyes never leaving his. She closed her eyes and sucked for a moment. His cock in her throat did not bother her. She did not care why.

Enough going slow, she thought and got her hands involved. She concentrated on running her lips up and down the top of his cock while her hands rubbed the lower part, her thumb pressing into the base of his cock near his balls. She could feel him start to squirm. He was close and she redoubled her efforts. More cum entered her mouth and she prepared for the mother lode by sucking harder.

Cum filled her mouth and she swallowed it down as fast as she could, milking his cock for all it was worth. She massaged his balls his her hands and she again took him in deep and sucked him hard. She looked up at him and slid her mouth off his cock.

Like a snap, the singlemindedness disappeared and Sara was herself again. She looked down at his flagging cock and realized it was less heavenly to look at now. “Oh, wow,” she muttered. “That was fucking mental. It was like I was the high priestess of cock. I can't believe my throat isn't sore.” As her hand was still holding his balls, she gave them a gentle squeeze.

“That was part of the alteration,” Paul explained. “In addition to having a one-track mind devoted to cock sucking, you also had the anatomy to make that devotion painless.”

“And you programmed that while I was frozen?”

“Yep.”

“Why would you turn that version of me off?”

“Because I can't make getting head for hours at a time painless for me,” Paul laughed. “You'd probably start going to door to door looking for new cocks to suck. To prevent that, after you make the cock cum, once you take it out of your mouth, the cock sucker persona ends.”

“The cock? The persona will suck any cock?” she asked.

“Well, sure, is that a problem?” he asked.

She just smiled. She looked over at the table and changed the subject, “So what is in the package?”

“Go open it while I recover here.”

She smiled at him as she got up and retrieved the package. It was an overnight delivery envelope so she pulled the strip of cardboard to open it and saw a book inside. The title was “FEMBOT X27B Owner's Instruction Manual.” She looked at Paul as she took the book out, “What is this?”

“You said you got the name for your robot from a website. Well, the website had this on it.”

She was flipping through the pages. “Look at this, the robot can service four humans sexually at once.”

“I need a break,” Paul said. “I’m no teenager any more. Six or seven blowjobs in a couple days is all I can stand.”

“Poor, baby,” Sara cooed. “So what shall we do instead? I’m still in an experimenting mood. Maybe the robot can do something about it.”

“Actually,” Paul said reaching for the remote. “I took the liberty of replacing channel one with something less sexual and far more appealing than a blind date. Not sure what you’ll think.”

“Is it better than standing around in stand-by mode?”

“I thought you liked that.”

“I do,” Sara replied. “But will this be better?”

Paul laughed pressing the one button. “You tell me.”

Sara felt herself grow taller. Her chest filled out as her breasts disappeared. Her clothing was replaced with man’s dress shirt, the top three buttons open and cuffs rolled up slightly. Plain button-fly blue jeans also appeared. Something was between his thighs and when Sara gasped there was a much lower timbre to the sound. “A man?” He asked.

“Dave Turlington, a college buddy who loves all the same sports teams I do,” Paul explained. “There’s a playoff game starting in a few moments and I know you don’t want to watch it with me. But Dave will love it. We use to hang in bars on game nights and cheer on our teams together.”

“You turned your wife into a man so you could watch sports?”

“Sounds like a beer commercial, doesn’t it?” Paul laughed. “And not just any man, Dave is a great stats guy. And if he starts ranting about stats I can always mute him. Besides you’ll be along for the ride. Maybe you’ll appreciate sports more seeing them from inside his head.”

“Don’t I get a goodbye, um…?” Sara paused mid-sentence. “I think I have to pee.”

“Now’s your chance to see what peeing standing up is all about.” Paul laughed. She stared at him funny and he added, “I arranged it so the first time you where on channel one and in your own personality that you would feel the need to urinate. Go to the bathroom, drop trou and hang your dick over the commode. You should be able to figure out what to do from there.”

Sara laughed, “Am I well hung?”

“You’ll find out in a moment.”

She left the living room area and entered the bathroom. She decided to be bold and opened her fly and reached a hand inside. She encountered his underwear and found its fly hole. Beyond was a rather large dick. She found the end and guided it out of his pants. Now it was hanging out of her pants over the bowl. She lifted the seat and waited. Eventually she figured out what muscles to relax in order to start the flow. A moment later she was finished. She took a bit of tissue paper and dabbed the end of her dick to get any excess drops off. She wondered how long her dick was. She could wrap both of her rather large hands around its flaccid shaft. Thinking about the cock sucker persona, she wondered if she could deep throat this huge cock. Her hands rubbed against the shaft and it felt very nice. The sensation of her cock becoming stiff was unusual and exciting. Before she realized what was happening she had a huge boner. She laughed as she realized just how well hung she was and she wondered what to do about it now. Getting her rod back into her pants was not going to happen.

Feeling horny, she put the seat down on the commode and sat down. She grabbed a towel and proceeded to jerk off – in Sara’s mind it was a hand job but men generally don’t refer to it that way. Within a few moments she came into the towel. She took a moment to compose herself before chucking the towel into the tub. She maneuvered the flagging member back into her pants and she returned to the living room.

“Was it good for you?” Paul immediately asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Is male masturbating better or worse than female masturbating?”

“Well, it’s certainly quicker,” Sara-Dave joked. “Dave is truly hung.”

“Yes, and he was generally not shy about swinging it around,” Paul noted. “Is there anything else before you go?”

“I still want a goodbye kiss,” Sara-Dave said in a frighteningly coquettish manner.

Paul sighed. “Come here.” Just as Sara-Dave was about to lean in for a kiss, Paul pressed the power button.

Sara-Dave shrank back to feminine proportions, “Oh—“

Before she could finish her expletive, Paul kissed her on the mouth. They separated, and Paul pressed the power button again.

A male mannequin, vaguely resembling his friend Dave appeared in his wife’s place. Paul turned the pregame show on so he would not have to fumble with remotes. Then he moved the mannequin to the entrance to the hotel room and pressed play.

“Paulie!” Dave shouted. “It’s so great that our schedules mesh like this. Just in time for the game.” They shook hands and gave one another a friendly hug.

“Yep, should be a good game.”

“So how’s the ball and chain, Paulie?” Dave asked. “You go out for a business meeting and leave her all alone? Don’t you worry she’s doing the mailman while you’re gone?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s done no such thing,” Paul laughed. “I didn’t marry a woman you would date.”

“I would be insulted if my first and second wives hadn’t left me for men with predictable schedules.” Dave replied. “Let’s order some snacks. It’s on the company dime, right?”

“Yeah, not a problem,” Paul said picking up the hotel phone. He ordered a few chip and dip platters while they discussed what idiots the pregame announcers were.

After the game started and snacks arrived, Dave noticed the user’s manual for the robot. He thumbed through it without Paul noticing. At the next game break, he said, “Is this for real?” as he held up the book.

“Oh, that’s nothing. Just put it down.”

“Are you kidding? This is like an engineer’s wet dream. Is this why you are in town? Is there a demo model?”

“No, that’s not for work. Some guy on the Internet created a fake specification for a fantasy robot.”

“So why do you have printed copy of it?”

“Sara was looking for a Halloween costume.”

“Fuck me, Paulie. You can’t lie to me. What are you hiding?” Dave looked around the room. “It’s actually here isn’t it?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ah, ha,” Dave exclaimed. “So it does exist.”

“Not exactly,” Paul replied. “The game’s back on.”

“Fuck the game,” Dave said. “Does she dress up like a robot and call you master and stuff?”

“Something like that,” Paul answered, wondering where this was going.

“So if she’s not here, why is this here?”

“Why are you so curious?”

“I feel like there’s something unnatural going on,” Dave replied standing up. He looked around the room then out the window. “I don’t remember arriving here or talking to you on the phone to setup getting together to watch the game. And your laptop here is open to a program called Mannequin Hair Console.”

“Dave, come sit down and I’ll tell you everything. But don’t touch the laptop.”

Dave held up his hands and sat back down on the sofa. “That was like a Twilight Zone statement.”

“Great analogy since you don’t exist.”

“What? I find that hard to believe.”

“Well, you do exist. There is a physical body on the sofa. But Dave Turlington is probably sitting at home in Texas watching this game in peace. You are my wife.”

“What?”

“My wife is wearing a device called the Magical Mannequin Hair and among its many awesome properties it allows her to take on different forms and personalities. So she is inside your head, probably laughing at me, finding out what it’s like to be sports nut watching the game with his old friend. And she's learning nothing while we talk about this.”

Dave sat there nonplussed. “I do not feel like myself. But why would this device allow me to feel that way?”

“I don’t know.”

“So she actually turns into that robot?”

“It only happened once,” Paul replied.

Dave flipped though the manual again. “Where did you get the device?”

“I found it in a shop on a side street not far from here.”

“Were there any others in the shop?”

“Yes, why?”

“You found this device that lets the wearer turn into practically anything and you didn’t get one for yourself?”

MANIP - Indecision

I wanted to have something about "now I'll have the taste of my thumb in my mouth for three days" in the text. But it didn't fit, neither the story, nor the feel of the piece.

Transcript

Finally! Spell is cast. Now, what do I want to stare at as I spend the next few days as a mannequin?

No, wait. First, what's the best pose when one is a mannequin?

No, no, no. What am I thinking? The very most important decision to make is:

Where's the best place in this room to spend a few days as a mannequin?

Hmm.

Uh oh.

Damn!

I can't move.

I suppose here, like this, will do nicely.

On the bright side, I don't have to agonize over any of those other decisions I couldn't make.

Taste Testing

Something a bit different: this is a long short story, nearly 9k words. As you'll see, there's a lot of formatting in the story and Patreon is useless when it comes to formatting text. Originally I was going to split this into two parts and release it across two Saturdays. Once I switched to PDF, I decided to just release as one part. Upside? You get to read it all at once. And you don't end up with two PDFs.

I recently discovered a pirate website with most of my private Patreon posts on it. I was tempted to password protect the PDF. I didn't. But, I was tempted. Please do not share the PDF anywhere. I'm sure you already know that.

This is also not a transformation story. It is perhaps outside some of my readers' comfort zone. Sorry if it isn't your cup of tea. Such things are a matter of taste.

Comments are encouraged as always.

Mannequin Hair, part 5 of 6

The daylong meetings had been interminable normally but today he just wanted to get back to the hotel. Over the course of the morning and its occasional breaks he found out a lot of interesting things about the Magical Mannequin Hair product that just made his jaw drop. Sara could become almost anything. Reading the Poly Purple programs fully explained how Sara had mailed herself and how she had appeared in his hotel wearing the dress on the paper doll.

The Remote Control program was fascinating. The power button turned the program on and off. The numbers buttons modified not only her look but her personality. Play turned the mannequin form into an animated being. Stop returned to the mannequin form. Pause froze the living being in place. Even the rewind, fast forward and mute buttons were enabled to do what one would expect them to do.

While examining that program he discovered that while he could not modify the existing buttons, he could add buttons to the program. Before he could come up with any interesting ideas, his phone rang and he was returned to the meeting.

Around noon the negotiations finally became an agreement. Both parties were happy with the result and he and his team went to lunch to celebrate. At lunch he told his partners that he was going back to the hotel because Sara might be flying out to meet him. Bad timing now that the negotiations were over but he said he would take a few days off and stay out here to make the most of it. His partners parted ways with him and his boss told him not to come back to work until the follow Monday.

With a spring in his step, he walked back to his hotel room. On the way he noticed a mannequin display in an upscale clothing store, Beed's Boutique. It was the mannequin Sara had labeled number 7 in the remote control program. He stepped inside and asked to see the manager when the sales girl approached him. They discussed the mannequin on display and while Paul’s request was out of the ordinary, the manager did not think it would be a problem. He confirmed they could do it and Paul thanked them.

Leaving the boutique, he walked to his hotel room and bolted the door behind him. He went to the bedroom where he found the Silver Mannequin exactly where he left it. He opened the laptop and reconnected to the Magical Mannequin Hair device using the Mannequin Hair Console program. A timer in the upper right indicated the current activation would last another five days.

He opened the remote control program and added a couple of buttons to the program’s repertoire of effects. He tested the buttons that did not require reanimating Sara as well as he could. Finally it was time to surprise his wife.

He pressed the THREE button and the robot disappeared. In its place was the hooker facing the wrong way. As he pressed the PLAY button, he said, “Lose the skirt.”

She took an awkward step forward then turned to face him. “It’s your dime,” she said. She released her skirt and it dropped to the floor. She wasn’t wearing underwear. She stepped out of the skirt toward Paul. “Where do you want me?”

“Actually sit on the bed and finger yourself,” Paul commanded. “I want to watch first.”

“Not sure you understand how this works but its your money.” She sat on the bed and proceeded to finger her clitoris making noises meant to imply she felt pleasure.

It took a while but eventually she stopped looking at him and closed her eyes. When she did, Paul took out the remote and pressed a button labeled MODE.

Sara’s eyes popped wide open. “How?” she asked. “I’m me.”

“Problem?”

Sara saw the remote and said, “You just did something. I’m not who I just was.”

He hit the button again and the hooker looked at him confused.

“Did you tell me to stop?”

“No,” Paul admonished. “But let me hop on.”

“That’s more like it.”

He was already erect and she was well lubricated. He slipped inside her easily and began fucking her with an easy rhythm. She closed her eyes and pretended to be enjoying it.

With her eyes closed, Paul took the remote and pressed the MODE button again.

Sara’s eyes opened again. She was herself again. The hooker persona had disappeared and she did not understand why.

She opened her mouth to speak but Paul interrupted, “Shut up, slut. I’m paying and don’t want to hear your noise.”

Sara was shocked. Paul never spoke to her like that before. And his stroke inside her became more strident.

Paul hit the MODE button again. “Tell me you’re my fucking whore, cunt,” he demanded.

“Oh baby, fuck your whore,” the hooker responded smoothly.

He hit the MODE button again. “Say it again louder,” he demanded.

“What?” Sara replied out of her element.

“Fuck, what’s wrong with you bitch?” He asked grabbing her by the hair. “Say it louder!” He hit the button again.

The hooker looked him in the eyes and cried out, “Fuck this whore cunt. Wear it the fuck out and fuck it again.”

“That’s more like it,” Paul cried hitting the button again. “What are you?”

“I’m a whore,” Sara played along unsure what was causing her to slip in and out of character.

Still holding her hair, Paul planted a strong open kiss on her mouth.

Sara was totally turned on and when her broke the kiss was feeling the power of his sex. “Fuck my whore cunt.” She managed to squeak out.

“Louder!”

As she went to say it again Paul over exaggerated his stroke emphasizing each word she said with a pelvic thrust. “Fuck my whore cunt,” she exclaimed.

He came. And he knew she came as well. He gave her a few post-orgasmic thrusts before hitting the button and rolling off of her. “How much?”

Without missing a beat, the hooker got up and retrieved her skirt. “25 from before and 50 now is 75,” she answered matter-of-factly holding out her hand.

He grabbed his wallet and took out a hundred dollar bill, “Suck me clean then get lost.” He waved his dick at her.

She smiled falsely. “It’s an extra 10 in that condition.”

He pulled a fifty out of his wallet and said, “Swallow too.”

The hooker’s smile became more genuine and she knelt down to suck his cock clean. Five minutes into the blow job he pressed the MODE button and Sara found herself with a cock in her throat. She managed to maintain the rhythm the hooker had started and continued the blow job. As he approached orgasm she hoped the hooker persona would return but it didn’t. He came in her mouth. It wasn’t as bad as usual, probably because he had just came inside her earlier. She swallowed down all the cum and sucked anything leaking from his flagging cock.

His hand pushed against her forehead as he said, “Here, get lost.” He turned toward the bathroom and did not look back at her as he pressed the MODE button on the remote.

The hooker stuck the money into a money clip inside her boot. She straightened her skirt in the mirror and left the bedroom. She was about to open the door to the hotel room when she transformed into a spy, photograph number 2 on the remote.

Vanessa didn’t understand why she was leaving and was relieved when she heard his voice.

“Wait, you don’t have to leave,” Paul said from the bedroom doorway, wearing a bathrobe.

She turned nonchalantly, unsure why she was leaving without the information she had came for. “You change mind, perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” Paul replied. “There’s no reason why two people can’t just talk to one another just because they are of the opposite sex. My wife won’t mind at all if we just talk.”

“A reasonable woman she is being,” Vanessa replied, her Russian accent evident. She sat demurely on the nearby sofa and patted the cushion next to her. As he sat down beside her she crossed her legs. “Why don’t you tell me about what you do?”

“Oh, what I do is boring?” Paul replied. “You’re from Russia. Tell me about your home town.”

“Oh, is a small village outside Saint Petersburg. Not very interesting at all.” She leaned close to him.

Paul grabbed her by the neck and pulled her in for a long kiss. As she played along, he continued kissing her for a moment before stopping. He said, “Say something sexy in Russian.” And he hit the MODE button.

Sara did not know what to do so she initiated another long kiss hoping she would turn back into Vanessa. It didn’t happen before Paul broke the kiss. He was looking at her expectantly and she said, “Russian not a sexy language.”

Paul laughed. “Especially when you don’t know how to speak it. Right, Sara?”

“Something is wrong with my program,” Sara complained. “Did you do something?”

“Actually, I did.” Paul replied telling her about his discovery earlier today.

“I thought I was going crazy slipping back and forth between the hooker and myself and now the spy and myself,” she complained. “So if you hit the MODE button now I become Vanessa?”

“Is that her name?”

“I didn’t write her name on the photo?” She inquired. “I’m sure I did.”

“What I don't understand is how you can give such a good blow job when you normally... well suck at it. 'Suck' is the wrong word.”

“Are you saying my prior blow jobs haven't pleased you?”

“Not as much as the hooker you were earlier,” he admitted. “You’re just usually a bit timid about it.”

“I actually don't know where the knowledge comes from,” Sara admitted. “I specified her personality as a career hooker, expert in getting guys off. When you were switching between her and me it was surprising how well she responded to your dirty talk and it was hard for me as me to keep up.” She twisted some of her hair. “Do you like the dirty talk?”

“I can take it or leave.” He watch her twisting her hair and got up. “That reminds me. You don't know what else I changed.” He headed for the bedroom. “Follow me.” In the bedroom he pointed at the mirror, “Look at yourself.”

“You changed my face?” she asked as she looked in the mirror. The face looking back at her resembled the face of the mannequin she had based the Vanessa spy on rather than being her own face. As she watched, she changed into the socialite from photograph number seven. Her outfit transformed into the expensive dress and her face again changed to resemble the mannequin in photograph number seven. “Why did you change the faces and my voice?”

“Well, your face and voice changes for the robot and it makes it easier for me to figure out what channel--” he air-quoted the word channel “--I'm watching.”

She looked at him expectantly. “So what else have you done?”

“What do you mean?” He asked innocently. He switched her to channel eight, the slavetoy. Her clothes disappeared completely except for a leather hood covering her head. No zippers or buckles held it in place, it was shaped to her head and could not be removed.

She stomped her foot in anger, placing her hands on her hips in defiance. But no sound issued from her mouth.

“Nothing to say?” he joked. “I suppose with the persona in place you would be less incorrigible.”

She pantomimed pointing something at her and pressing a button.

“You want me to change this?”

She nodded.

He pressed the MODE button.

As the slave persona took over, she immediately knelt down at his feet and bowed her head in deference.

“Stand up.” As she did, he picked her up and lay her on the bed. She did not resist his actions. He spread her legs and started to lick the outer edge of her pussy. He worked his way slowly to her clitoris, fingering her pussy walls as he pleasured her. While her pussy responded naturally to being pleasured she made no sounds and did not move to help or hinder his actions. After about five minutes, he hit the MODE button again and her body spasmed.

She lifted her butt off the bed to give him a better angle on her pussy, grinding against his face as he stepped up his game. Still no sound issued from her mouth. Her hands massaged her breasts and nipples as he continued to move his tongue methodically all around her pussy. Over time she tried to get his attention and pantomimed sex by making a circle one hand pushing a finger on her other hand through it.

He pressed the MODE button and her participation abruptly ceased. “Finger your pussy,” he commanded.

Her hand went to her wet pussy and started stroking herself.

“Stop,” he commanded.

Her hand immediately was pulled from her cunt and lay there unmoving.

He got up and left the room. He had had an idea and wanted to program it. And he wanted to see if the slave would continue doing nothing. So he went to his laptop and created his idea and added it to the Magical Mannequin Hair's programming. He returned fifteen or twenty minutes later and aside from her pussy being less engorged she had not moved. He got up on the bed and resumed pleasuring her. After a few minutes, once again, he pressed the MODE button. “It's like fucking a dead body. This slave toy is no fun.”

Sara, still mute, still tried to make the most of his eating her out. Like her, he did not always relish doing oral sex on her. With persistence, her body began to sweat and writhe below him. Shortly her body coiled like a spring and she had the most devastating orgasm. He caused her to shake with a followup orgasm that left her breathless.

He pressed the MODE button and said, “Stand up.”

Despite the quiver in her legs, she rose quickly to obey.

He pressed another button.

The slavetoy was replaced by the socialite. She stood taller than Sara normally was. The room smelled of sex and she was not sure how she got here. “Where do I find myself?” she asked in well-measured tones.

Paul laughed, “You find yourself in my little love den.” And before she could react in surprise he pressed the MODE button.

Sara laughed. “She was rather shocked by your answer.” Immediately after saying it, she added, “I can speak! Hey, and I'm clean. And I'm taller.”

“Let’s go to early dinner, you must be starved.”

“I don’t even remember when I last ate,” she admitted.

“Stay in that outfit, I’ll dress up.” Paul opened the closet to put on his good suit.

She went to the mirror and looked at her face. The socialite had perfect skin, beautiful cheekbones and slim nose. Her makeup was flawless and her hair was a rich amber hue tied up in a bun held together with a diamond studded tiara. Her breasts also seemed larger in her black, off-the-shoulder dress. The neckline was low enough to provide a broad canvas for a triple-strand diamond necklace. The right side of the dress opened at her hip creating a long side slit down to her mid-calf. Purple five-inch stilettos, with matching clutch, finished the outfit.

“That is a beautiful dress,” Paul said watching her admiring her leg in the mirror.

“This is so not me,” she said. Turning around she added, “But if I have to look like this to get you to dress up fancy, I will.” He approached her and she reached out to kiss him.

He looked at his watch. “I made reservations on the way home from the meeting. So let’s get going.”

“How are you going to walk through the lobby with me?”

“Oh, I have that covered.” He reached out and touched her breasts. Before she could respond in surprise he said, “Figurine.”

The room spun around her, growing in size. When everything stopped moving, she was looking up at his enormous face. She could not move. A huge hand reached for her and picked her up turning her around causing the room to spin about her. The hand closed around her body and she was plunged into darkness.

She heard a door open and close and felt a sense of motion she guess was Paul walking down the hallway. A moment passed and then she heard a ding sound from an elevator arriving. More sense of motion occurred and eventually the pace of motion became steady as Paul walked down the street. She lost track of time but in what seemed like a moment the hand opened and she saw she was facing a boutique. She heard Paul say, “Human,” and she grew from four-inches tall to almost six feet tall in an instant.

“Let’s go inside,” Paul said grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the door. When she entered she realized this was the store where she had photographed the mannequin for this dress. Paul led her to the front window next to the door where there was an empty space. “Pose for me,” he requested. “Like the photograph.”

She looked around and she was in the place where the other mannequin had been. “We need to talk later,” she whispered. She placed her legs where she though the mannequin’s had been. She positioned her arms and turned her head toward the window.

Both of Paul’s hands touched her breasts and he said, “Frozen.”

She could not move. She remained flesh, she was pretty sure. She just could not move.

“Ah, Mr. Schofeld,” a woman said entering the show room.

“As you can see, she’s a perfect match, Ms Beed,” Paul replied.

“Uncanny,” the woman continued. “So, you’ll be back to pick her up…”

“Eventually,” Paul interrupted, winking.

“What did he do?” Sara thought. How long was she going to play mannequin? She heard the door to the boutique open and Paul crossed her line of vision. He waved once as he passed by.

Paul took a seat on a nearby bench where he could see her but she couldn’t see him and took out his cell phone. He looked up the Thaumtech website on his smart phone and discovered there was a phone app for the Magical Mannequin Hair. He downloaded it and launched it. After connecting to Sara’s hair he discovered additional abilities on the app. He clicked the SEE IT icon and the screen became a live video feed of whatever was in front of the boutique. Apparently the mannequin hair could be used as a surveillance device.

Another screen gave him motor control over the wearer. He tapped a few controls and closed her eyes. He opened them a moment later to reduce the level of panic he was sure doing that had caused her. Another idea struck him and he laughed. He was having too much fun. Shortly he called the Beed’s Boutique and spoke with Ms. Beed. “Yes, this is Paul Schofeld. I’ve been called into work unexpectedly,” he started.

* * *

Sara was frightened when her eyes suddenly closed. She had no idea what had happened. When they opened again she was relieved. Time passed slowly. She could not see Paul but she knew wherever he had gone, he could see her.

After a while a voice behind her said, “Mrs. Schofeld?”

Sara could not react and remained immobile.

The voice repeated her name and a hand tapped her on the shoulder. “Mrs. Schofeld, your husband called. He said he was called away on business and asked me to tell you.”

As the hand tapper her shoulder, Sara realized she could move. She turned to face Ms. Beed as she heard the message Ms. Beed was relaying to her.

Ms Beed continued, “That was some amazing living mannequin modeling. I was watching and you remained still the whole hour.”

“Thank, you,” Sara replied extending her hand. “Ms…”

“Oh, I’m Ms Beed. This is my boutique.” She eyed Sara’s outfit. “That dress is even more fabulous with those real diamonds.”

“Paul spoils me,” Sara replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I must be going.”

“Of course, stop in any time.”

Sara left the store and saw Paul waving two stores down. As she approached, he put away his cell phone. “So, no dinner for two?” She asked.

“What?” Paul looked confused. “Oh, no we’re still going to dinner. I just didn’t feel like going back into the store. Ms Beed can talk your ear off.” He took her arm and headed down the street to the restaurant.

After a few paces she asked, “How did you freeze me? Or turn me into a figurine?”

“The program,” Paul replied. “I just added some triggers based on my voice and the placement of my hands.” He laughed.

“So anyone can unfreeze me by tapping my shoulder.”

“No, only Ms Beed that one time. I modified the program with my cell phone.”

“You can program me on your cell phone?”

“Yep, look at this app,” he said taking out the phone and hitting the SEE IT icon.

She took the phone and saw the infinite regression one gets when pointing a video camera at a live monitor feed. She waved her hand in front of her eyes and saw them dance across the screen. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed. “You can see what I’m seeing?’

“People use the Magical Mannequin Hair in malls to pretend to be mannequins. They can then tie this into their security systems.”

“That is freaky,” she said giving him back the phone. “Any more surprises tonight.”

“Not until we get back to the room, I think.” He grinned.

True to his word, the four course dinner went by without anything inhuman happening. He paid for dinner on his office credit card and the two leisurely strolled back to the hotel.

Price Change (Don't Panic)

I've created a new Reader tier which costs $5. Everyone who can see this post is still reading the Legacy Reader tier and their monthly cost of $3 remains in effect. As long as you don't let your membership lapse, you will remain on the $3 tier until I delete, probably over a year from now.

I've also added a Full Access tier at $10 to replace the BTS tier. No new content will be added to that tier, aside from the exceptionally rare BTS post.

The new Reader tier will not have access to The Cabin or It Suits Me. (I might add 5-minute Girl to that list.) New members who want to read those stories will have to go to the Full Access level.

Again, Don't Panic!

This doesn't affect the legacy Reader tier at all. You also have Full Access.

I’m Dating A Mannequin

I hadn’t had much luck with meeting people I wanted to date and who wanted to date me. I hadn’t touched the dating app on my phone in a few weeks when a notification appeared. I clicked the notification and it brought me to a profile I had looked at a few weeks ago. I remembered her picture immediately. She was pretty and she enjoyed visiting museums according to her profile.

I’d completely forgotten about her by the time I got a notification. Rereading her profile it said she traveled for work and frequently took a few weeks to get back to people on the app.

She had sent a message: <<Hi, I’m Sarah. I just saw you liked my profile. If you’re available, I’d love to meet you tonight or tomorrow night.>>

I replied: <<You don’t want to chat for a few days first?>>

Over the next day we had this conversation:

<<I’m not interested in a fast hookup. But I find when I chat like this I’m not really getting to know someone. Body language and the way someone speaks tells you a lot.>>

<<That’s very direct. Okay. Do you like Thai food?>>

<<Yes. But I prefer Southern Indian.>>

<<Are you near Gentry Park? There’s a nice place near there and it’s not far from where I work.>>

<<Sounds good. I can be there tonight. Are you available?>>

<<Sure. Meet me outside of the Hendricks Gallery on Warren Street.>>

<<I know where that is. See you there.>>

What I hadn’t told her was I work at the gallery.

She arrived on time. I stepped out of the gallery and said, “Sarah? Hi. I’m Niles.”

“Did you just come out of the gallery?”

“I did. If you aren’t too hungry I’d love to walk around the gallery with you.”

“That would be wonderful. Do you know a lot about art?”

“My boss thinks I do. Jerry, do I know a lot about art?”

“I thought you had a date. Don’t talk to me when you’re on a date.”

“You work here?”

“I do.”

“Sneaky.”

I showed her some of the better pieces from up and coming artists. We were still talking about some of the pieces as we walked over to the Indian restaurant a few doors down.

After placing our orders, I said, “Now you know my boring job. What do you do for a living?”

“Your job isn’t boring. Not like mine.”

“Is that a challenge?

“You’ll lose. I’m a mannequin.”

“A mannequin? Like in a store?”

“Yes. The store I work at has this machine that turns people into mannequins and back again. I work most of the month. On the third Tuesday of the month, they turn me back to normal and I have off until Friday morning.”

“So you don’t actually travel, like your profile says.”

“It’s a little fib. I’m completely out of touch most of the month. If I explained why in my dating profile it would take up too much space.”

“Today is Thursday.”

“Yes, I have to go back in the morning. I won’t be available for another date until next month. I had to tell you so you don’t think I’m ghosting you when you don’t hear from me the next four weeks.”

“You think we should have another date?”

“Sure. I’m having a great time. And you seem to be into me. Why shouldn’t we have another date next month?”

“I’ve never scheduled a second date a month in advance before.” I pulled out my phone. “So, Tuesday or Wednesday?”

“I’ll be available after four on Tuesday.”

“Okay, I work until five. Can you get to the gallery by five?”

“Sure. Tuesday the eighteenth at five?”

“It’s a date.”

“Here’s my number. If for some reason, any reason, you need to cancel. And I mean any reason. If you meet someone else in the next month, I’m totally fine with that. It’s happened before. Just text me that you have to cancel so I don’t waste time preparing for a date that won’t happen. After all, I only have three days off.”

We left the restaurant and I waited with her while she waited for her gig taxi to pick her up.

I told Jerry about my date Friday morning. He said, “Ya’ know. That woman last night looked familiar. Maybe I’ve seen her in a store window.”

“Maybe.”

“And you have a second date a month from now? That’s odd.”

“It is. From what she said, she gets to save a lot of money only being alive three days a month.”

“’Being alive three days a month.’ There’s something you don’t hear often. Does she pay for an apartment?”

“That’s the funny thing. She said her and a couple other mannequins share the rent on a room with a couple other people. For her, she pays like two fifty a month for a bedroom she shares with two other women she never sees.”

“If my sister ever stops by, don’t tell her about that arrangement. She’d probably try to find a job as a mannequin to join them not existing for most of a month.”

“You don’t want Barb to be a mannequin?”

“I suspect she’d like it too much.”

Two weeks later, Jerry sent me a text pic in the evening. It was Sarah standing in the window of Dust Rag Diamonds. It was a clothing boutique on Thirteenth Avenue about six blocks from the gallery. On my lunch break the next day, I walked over there and took my own pics of her in the window. I noticed there were a couple other mannequins that were much higher quality than normal and took pics of them too.

Two weeks later on Tuesday, I received a text mid-afternoon: <<Are we still on?>>

<<You bet. Stop by the gallery after five.>> I texted back.

She arrived on time. She entered the gallery to find me this time. I was in back at the time. I didn’t know she’d arrived until I heard Jerry talking. “Hello. You must be the mannequin Niles is dating. Never thought I’d ever say that.”

She laughed. “People often say things they never would have thought they’d say when referring to me.”

“He’s in back. Oh, no, he’s right there.”

“Hello, Sarah.” As I got close she stepped toward me and we shared a chaste kiss.

“Hi. I think you found me a couple weeks ago.”

“Jerry remembered seeing you and told me where to find you. I hope that isn’t a problem.”

“No. If I had seen you outside the store a bunch of times, I might not have come today. But, you were probably just curious.”

“I was. Actually.” I took my phone out and showed her the pics of herself and then swiped to other two mannequins. “Are these those roommate you share a room with?”

“Yes. This one is Nastya. She’s originally from Belarus. And the other one is Georgia. I think Georgia’s three days off are during the fourth week of the month and Nastya is off during the first week of the month.”

“Shouldn’t there be four of you?”

“We asked that of Margaret, the owner of the store. But she said she would need more window footage to make it practical to hire a fourth mannequins.”

We went to dinner and she invited me to her apartment where I met her non-mannequin roommates.

“Hey, Pamela, this is the guy I told you about last month.”

“Giles?”

“Niles,” I said, shaking her hand.

“So how was your month between dates?”

“Not really any different than the month before I met Sarah.”

“Oh, right, this is a second date, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Sarah said. “Where’s Hilary?”

“She doesn’t want to meet your new friend. You know that.”

“Right.”

“What?” I said.

“She made a rule that she won’t meet any guy I bring here unless he’s spend three months between various dates. So far she hasn’t met anyone I’ve dated the last two years.”

“She has the same rule for George and Nastya.”

“Is that because she called that guy Nastya met by Georgia’s boyfriend’s name?”

“Probably.”

“Hey,” said a woman stepping out of one of the bedrooms. “If you’re going to talk about me behind my back, I’m going to come out here.”

“His name is Niles.”

“Don’t care. No offense.”

“You do you,” I said.

“Are my bedroom mates dating?” Sarah said. “I never get to talk to them.”

“No, I think you’re the only one on a second date among the house mannequins,” Pam said.

After some more chit chat, I finished my beer and stood up. “Sarah, I had a lovely time. But I have to be up early tomorrow. Are you busy tomorrow night?”

“Third date? Hear that Hilary,” Pam said

“It’s the months in between that matter,” Hilary said.

“I have no plans yet,” Sarah said. “Should I meet you at work again?”

“It’s worked so far. Nice meeting you Pamela. And you will owe me a friendly greeting in May, Hilary.”

“If you last that long, you’ve got it.”

I gave Sarah a kiss and left.

The next couple days were dates three and four and we really clicked. A month later, we had another gallery date on the Tuesday she was off. There had been enough changes since two months earlier to make it worth while.

We went back to my place that night and she stayed the night. The next night I went to her apartment right from work. She made dinner. Hilary said goodbye to me as she left for the evening. Pamela also wasn’t around. We watched a bit of television after dinner before Sarah invited me to her bed. We lay in bed afterward, her head resting on my shoulder. She twirled a few of my chest hairs in her fingers.

“So, what in this room is yours, what’s communal property, and what’s off limits?” I asked.

“Well, the furniture is shared. It’s technically my vanity and bureau, Nastya’s bed and bedside table, and Georgia’s headboard and chair over there in the corner. The hard part is clothing. We’ve each pared down our clothing collection. The dresses, tops, and skirts that are left we share because we can all wear nearly the same size dresses. Nastya and I could share shoes and I think she’s worn my red pumps and I’ve worn her black ones. The three columns of drawers on the bureau are each of ours and contain underwear, bras, stockings, etc.

“We each have a different laptop that are stored in the bottom drawers of the bureaus. Sometimes Hilary remembers to charge mine, and I assume the other girl’s laptops, the Monday night before I’m back. Oh, and over there on the wall is a dry erase board. It’s usually how we remind one another who’s turn it is to dust or vacuum. Public complaints use to go there as well. But we’ve got a good rhythm going the past nine or so months. No complaints.”

“I don’t know if I could live such a simplified life.”

“Well, part of it is also liking being a mannequin. All three of us like doing it for basically the same reasons. It is about as low a stress job as there is.”

“Yes, I suppose the boss can’t get on your case about goal expectations. By the same token, there isn’t much room for promotion.”

“But all we do is promotion.”

“Cute.”

The following month I surprised her by taking the three days off. We went to a bed and breakfast on the shore. When we got back to the city, I took her home and Hilary was willing to get to know my name.

We had been dating a little over seven months when she didn’t call on Tuesday like she usually did. In the evening, I went over to the clothing store and all three mannequins were in the window. The store had already closed for the day. On my lunch break the next day I went to the clothing store and met Sarah’s boss, the owner of the store, Margaret.

“Can I help you? Buying something for a girlfriend?”

“I here to ask about Sarah.”

“Sarah?”

“The mannequin.”

“Oh, yes. The mannequin machine is broken. The repair guy won’t have it back to me for at least a week. How do you know Sarah?”

“We’ve been dating for half a year.”

“Really? The one thing those three are always complaining about is its hard to meet someone who can put up with their limited availability.”

“I have a few hobbies that keep be busying on weekends. And I think I appreciate my time with Sarah more because it is so limited.”

“That’s very sweet of you, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Niles,” I said and we shook hands.

“I’ll be sure to tell her that you came by.”

“Thanks. Good day.”

I received a text from Pamela later that day asking if I’d seen Sarah and I told her about the device needing maintenance.

It was three weeks later that she got five days off. Her next normal week off would have been the following week so she was off an extra day the next off period. It amounted to nine days off in a three month span but with only two periods off instead of three. To me, it felt like she was gone much longer each time.

Things were starting to feel serious after she meet my sister and brother-in-law. My father was also in town during one of her time off periods. Everyone enjoyed meeting her.

I wanted her to move in with me but she couldn’t do that without giving the other two mannequins warning that their rent would go up by fifty percent. It had taken two months to coordinate setting a move out date three months after that.

It wasn’t to be. In the middle of November, once again, she didn’t call on Tuesday. When I went to ask what had happened at the store the next day. The store was boarded up and looked cleaned out when looking past the boards. When I called Pamela, she knew nothing about the store closing. She said Nastya had been home two weeks earlier and had gone back to the store as she normally did. So the store had closed between last Friday and Tuesday.

Pam and Hilary invited me over to help them go through their roommates’ room looking for contact information for the owner of the shop. We eventually found a phone number that was disconnected. Hilary had a friend who could turn a phone number into an address. I headed over there and found their boss packing and planning to move.

“I have nothing left to give you.” She said through the door when I knocked.

“Margaret, open the door.”

“Go away.”

“I’m Sarah’s boyfriend, open up.”

Silence. I knocked on the door for several minutes before she opened it and had me come in quickly.

“I can’t help you,” she said.

“Where is Sarah and Nastya and Georgia?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I owed some people a lot of money. I liquidated the store assets and sold them. My lease ended. I’m going far away.”

“What about the mannequins?”

“If I didn’t sell them, I wouldn’t have been able to get the loan shark off my back. I’ll give you the number of the guy I sold to. You can get them back from him.”

“And what would have happened if I didn’t track you down.”

“Not my problem.”

“It will be if I have any trouble with this phone number you’ve given me.”

“No, it won’t.” She found a box and pulled some papers out. “These are the purchase contracts for the mannequins. They are property and I was within my rights to sell them.”

“What? Did they know that?”

“Probably not. It was part of the liability waver they all signed for using the mannequin device.”

“You’re fucking evil.”

“You opinion is duly noted.”

“Where’s the device?”

“I sold it separately. It was worth much more than adding it to a general liquidation sale. Guy I sold the merchandise to wouldn’t have known what to do with it.”

“He could restore the mannequins with it.”

“Not in his interest, I’m sure.” She handed me a couple other papers. “This is the card of the salesman who sold me the device originally. And this is the guy who bought it used.”

“I can’t believe this.”

“Now either help me move or get the fuck out.”

The phone call with the liquidator wasn’t much better. He wasn’t interested in selling just three mannequins to me. And I couldn’t afford to purchase the contents of the store.

I stopped by Sarah’s apartment. “I had an idea.” I told Pam and Hill. “If we could get into the bank accounts of the three mannequins, they could probably pay the cost to buy them from liquidator.”

We tried for hours trying to get into their laptops. No luck.

I spent the next five or six weeks calling the liquidator daily from a handful of different phones trying to get him to sell me the mannequins. At the end of each call I told him to call me if he ever had an auction.

I’d basically given up hope. Pamela and Hilary wanted to rent the room to out since they needed the money for the room. I paid the full one-third the first month. But the next month, I helped them pack up the room and put it in storage. It was much cheaper to pay for a storage bay than to rent one-third of an apartment. I prepaid for a year and figured if the year went by, I’d let it all go to auction.

Five months passed and the liquidator called me to tell me he was having an auction. I had been saving money on the chance this would happen. At the auction, the three mannequin women were divided between three lots that included the dress inventory they were still wearing.

I had little competition for Sarah and Georgia. But I had to bid a bit more than I wanted to for Nastya. I have no idea why I didn’t just bid on Sarah. But I couldn’t stand the thought of restoring her and her asking me how I could abandon the other two.

The dresses ended up in the storage locker and the mannequins in the living room of my apartment.

I didn’t have the mannequin device. The person who had purchased the device from Margaret didn’t want to talk to me. And the company that made the device couldn’t sell me the same model device. The worst part was I couldn’t buy their current devices. None of the current models could restore the women and they didn’t have older models to sell me to restore them nor any facility in their offices or warehouses where I could rent three uses of the older model.

I had alerts set up on various websites. I posted once a month to various forums looking for anyone having a working device they would rent or sell to me. I discovered the model Margaret owned was a piece of crap that broke nearly every fourth use after the first year or two. I had no idea mannequinizer devices had been available for sale for the past fifteen years. And this was one of the first models.

I did manage to get into the women’s bank accounts eventually. After charging their phones, the facial recognition on the phone thought they still looked like themselves. And I could use their banking software. I used the money to continue paying for the storage locker and to pay me back for the auction.

They had been mannequins for well over a year when I finally saw an auction of the correct model mannequinizer. The auction didn’t end for another thirty days. Another delay. I did manage to win the auction. When it arrived I didn’t know what to do. Could I trust it to work? Could I use one of the other mannequins as a lab test dummy?

I called the manufacturer and the tech was kind enough to walk me through a maintenance check before using it to see if it was functional. Good thing I called. I had to order a part before trying to use it.

What was one more delay at this point, I guessed.

With the part replaced, I put Sarah on the machine and started the restoration cycle. It lasted ten minutes, which was normal. In the ninth minute smoke leaked from the machine. She leaped off the disk just as a huge spark jumped four feet from the machine to the television. Neither device survived the discharge.

I didn’t notice. Sarah was in my arms and we held one another for a long time before she started saying thank you far too many times. I hushed her and she insisted we go to the bedroom.

In the morning, I awoke to breakfast being cooked.

“You’re up early,” I said.

“I wasn’t really tired. I’ve been resting for over a year.”

“Don’t think about it.”

“I no longer want to kill Margaret,” she said, flipping over some bacon. “Just stab her gently once or twice.”

“Move on.”

“How do I move on with those two mannequins in the living room? I can’t imagine you can get someone to fix the burnt out wreck of a device. And it took you months to find it.”

“I know. Just don’t get worked up about it. It doesn’t help them for us to be angry or agitated.”

She turned off the stove and gave me a hug. Her body was shaking. “What if it hadn’t worked out between us? What if you couldn’t afford to buy us at auction? What if...”

“Easy. It’s okay. That’s mostly in the past.” Looking at the living area, the two mannequins happened to be looking my direction. I sighed.

After another phone call and a video upload of what remained of the mannequinizer. support confirmed it was dead forever. I had been telling the mannequins about whatever progress there had been. I wasn’t looking forward to telling the remaining two they were still stuck. Though they were probably already aware.

When I came home from work, Sarah was reading a story to the mannequins.

“How was your day?”

“Boring. I have nothing to do. The replacement television is on order. And I have no job.”

“I didn’t order a television yet.”

“I know. I did. It was destroyed rescuing me. I’m responsible.”

“You weren’t responsible.”

“Semantics. You purchased the mannequinizer with my money. It was mine. It broke your television.”

“Technically, I haven’t charged your account yet. I had hoped the three of you would split the cost of paying me back. It’s still on my credit card.”

“Details. I’ll pay you for the mannequinizer.”

A couple days later, I came home from work. The new television was showing some series I didn’t enjoy with Sarah. As I passed the three mannequins viewing the television from behind the sofa, I said, “Good evening, Ladies,” as I usually did when I got home. I was in the bedroom unbuttoning my shirt when I realized what I’d just seen.

I returned to the living room. Georgia stood to the right of Nastya who stood to the right of Sarah. All three of them were dressed in identical dresses, which we had plenty of still in storage.

We had moved the sofa away from the wall so there was a good place for the mannequins where people wouldn’t bump into them. Beneath Sarah was a flat silver and chrome disk, a Mannequin Disk 3000. He looked at the display and she was due to be restored in twenty minutes.

I showered and put on pajamas. Sarah walked into the bedroom as I was putting the pajama top on. “How was your day, Niles?” She said, stepping up to me for a kiss.

“I had thought normal until I got home,” I said, kissing her.

“I was bored the past few days. I’ve spent the last three years as a mannequin most of the time, with eighteen months non-stop. Despite nearly being stuck forever, I missed it.”

“I’m not complaining. I wonder if the other two are happy you’re spending time with them.”

“I don’t know. Georgia usually tries to sleep when she’s a mannequin. It’s entirely possible she doesn’t even know how long she’s been stuck. Nastya is like me. She’s into the vibe of the world passing before you. Though she had wanted to visit her home country last summer. Oh. I just remembered that. I need to see if I can find a phone number for her family to tell them what happened to her.”

A few weeks later, while I was at work, Jerry’s sister arrived. She had some artwork for Jerry to put on display. She didn’t technically work for the gallery. But Jerry trusted her eye when it came to purchases.

“Niles, my dear, I heard through the grapevine that you have a Mannequin Disk. Why haven’t you invited me over to get stiff?”

“Barbara, I’ve told you no quinning.”

She laughed. “You’re my brother, not my mother.”

“She’s the one who begged me to keep you away from those things.”

“If I remember correctly, I’m also thirty-four, not fourteen. Your advice is noted.”

While they continued to argue, my cell phone rang. The contact said Nadir. I couldn’t remember who Nadir was. “Niles? I’m having an auction for a few fashion merchandise lots and I thought of you.”

“Oh, Nadir. I wasn’t sure who this was. I’m not really interested in purchasing anything at this time.”

“I figured that. There are five extremely high quality mannequins among the lots that reminded me of those mannequins you bought a couple months ago.” As he was talking, a couple texts arrived.

I put the call on speaker and looked at the texts. It was a couple pictures of high quality mannequins that had to be formerly living women. They weren’t my responsibility. Still…

“When is the auction?”

“About an hour. Same location as before. Hope to see you there.”

“Thanks for calling.”

He hung up.

Barbara and Jerry were looking at me. “Do you mind if I leave early?”

“Building a collection?”

“I don’t know. You want to come with me, Barb?”

“Sure.”

At the auction, Barbara became excited by a few of the lots that didn’t include any of the mannequin women.

“You still have a bunch of clothes in storage, don’t you?” she said. “And you will have eight mannequin soon?”

“Yes.”

“If you buy the five lots with mannequin, these three lots of clothes and a couple of the rack lots, you would be well on your way to having a clothing store.”

“What are you saying?”

“Those poor women in your living room. If they were standing in a store, being stuck might be a little less depressing. Sarah would love to have a store owner she can trust and who would let her indulge her fantasy. And you should be doing something better than working for the gallery.”

“All of that is great, except I know nothing about purchasing fashions. And I suspect buying these lots of clothes is a losing move since they were last seen in a store that closed.”

“You can’t blame the failure of a business on the merchandise. It’s usual the owner who fails.”

“And that makes the idea even crazier. Why would I be successful whereas the person who use to own all this stuff wasn’t?”

“If the person who failed here were still in the picture, would there be five living mannequin up for auction?”

“It happened before.”

“Sarah’s old boss had to be an outlier. I need to believe no one else would do what she did.”

“Fine. How am I going to move all this stuff?”

“I know a guy who will certainly lend us a delivery truck for free. I’ll call him. You might want to call the storage facility to see if you can upgrade to a larger bay.”

In addition to calling the facility, I left a text on Sarah’s phone saying there’d be a few people coming by for dinner.

At the end of the day, Barbara, her friend Tony, and I moved ten circular clothing racks and six linear racks, over a thousand articles of clothing and a row of locked lockers into a storage space. We moved all the clothes in the old space into the new space. I didn’t consolidate the spaces because the furniture didn’t belong to me. With Tony’s help and a crowbar from his truck, we broke into the lockers and found the personal belonging of five women.

Tony drove Barbara and me to my home. Jerry met us there. The four of us carried five mannequins and a box of personal effects up the stairs to my apartment. Sarah was cooking dinner for the five of us.

“I can’t believe you bought more mannequins. We aren’t puppies that you ask your parents if you can keep them,” Sarah said as we ate.

“Are you really going to open a store?” Jerry said.

“I need to run the numbers. I can’t afford to take a lease on a storefront by myself.”

“I’m going to miss you at the gallery.”

“I’m not leaving the gallery. I hope you’ll be able to keep me part time. I have an art history degree, not a business degree. I plan to hire a manager to run the store as soon as I can.”

“What about them?” Barbara said of the mannequins.

“I’m hoping we can find out what kind of device was used to turn them into mannequins. With luck, it’ll be compatible with Sarah’s device.”

“Oh, speaking of which,” Barbara said. “Can I give it a try?”

“Sure. Any time.”

“Barbara!” Jerry said.

Barbara stuck her tongue out him and made a raspberries sound.

Tony looked up from his phone. “Rita Icoula,” he said. “I’ll hook you up with Rita. She can run a clothing store.”

“Really?”

“She can also give you a second opinion on your merchandise. Not that Barbara would steer you wrong.”

“I didn’t think of Rita. She has her fingers deeper into what’s trending in fashion than I do,” Barbara said.

The next day, Barbara was wearing the same dress the other mannequins wore. She was standing in the line of mannequins to the left of Sarah. Jerry had not been happy, especially when Sarah took her off the Disk so she could join the party.

The other five mannequins had also had their clothing changed to the matching dresses. When one of the mannequins had been placed on the Mannequin Disk, the readout indicated no compatible mannequin was present on the disk and an error code.

When I called support, they had good news. These mannequins had been transformed by a Mannequin Disk 4, which hadn’t been manufactured in almost seven years. While not compatible with the MD 3000 Sarah had purchased, the MD 4 was still sold by licensed resellers. We would be able to restore these women once we purchased another Disk.

I was going through the purses and phones from the lockers I’d purchased. The facial recognition trick still worked so I was able to get into their phones. I was making some notes about how much money they had and how many “Where are you?” texts each woman had.

Surprisingly, not many. Each of these women had signed contracts of one year, two years, or, in one case, five years with the store that had closed. No one was expecting them to be available for half a year in the shortest case, based on his reading of the texts.

Technically, I had purchased these contracts and all of them had been paid in advance. I was under no obligation to restore them any time soon. That mitigated the urgency to find an MD 4. While all the current resellers could legally support the MD 4, there were no units available in the states. I found only two resellers with stock and all that stock was in warehouses in South America and southeast Asia. It would be two to three months for one of them to be shipped to me unless I wanted to pay almost eight times as much for the Disk. Instead, I purchased one from each reseller and hoped that if the first to arrive didn’t work, the second one would.

Jemma Nelson had the five year contract with three years remaining. She had signed the contract the day her divorce had finalized. She would be chronologically forty-one years old at the end of the contract. She had a sizable bank account that had scheduled transfers into an investment account. Assuming there wasn’t a financial crash, she could be worth several millions when her contract ended.

Two of the women were twins, Bridget and Blythe Piersol. At the age of eighteen, the twins were six months into a two year contract, hoping to use the money to pay for college. They shared a joint account with a nice nest egg already accumulated.

The other two women were women of color. Kazandra Smitt was in her early thirties and also had a nice portfolio working for her as she spent a couple years as a mannequin.

I felt sorry for Nimala Riddhima. She had a joint account with probably her brother. That account had nothing in it. The contract she had signed was for a couple thousand dollars. Had he stolen the money from his sister? Her contracted ended in six months.

When I met Rita, she was eager to help find a space for the store. She loved the clothes and when we returned to my apartment to discuss financing everything, she loved the mannequins. She sketched a store front featuring how the mannequins would be used to draw people in.

Rita’s enthusiasm had me excited.

The Mannequin Disk engaged and Sarah was restored while Rita and I were still working out the details. I introduced them to one another and Sarah invited Rita to stay for dinner. Sarah had me restore Barbara, who also joined us for dinner.

I’m not sure how it happened but when I went to bed, the number of mannequins in the living room had swelled to ten and I slept alone that night.

Sarah’s Style opened a few weeks later. It was a semi-soft open, with moderate advertising. As customers entered the store, a circular platform was near the front door. Sarah was the mannequin featured on the platform. She looked amazing. Georgia and Nastya were the permanent window mannequins until a solution for their condition could be found. There were six other mannequins around the store displaying the hottest merchandise, Barbara was the sixth one.

Rita didn’t tell me before the store opening, but she had ended her lease and was planning to be a mannequin every night in the store. She and the clerks would sweep the store and after they left, Rita would lock the store and do any bookkeeping that was needed. When she was done, she would pose on the Mannequin Disk and wait for me to revive her before her shift.

Sarah’s Mannequin Disk was setup in the back office. Several of the sales clerks were interested in taking turns as the featured mannequin when Sarah had time off. Unfortunately for me, Sarah wanted to stay in the store the first three months before taking any time off. We developed a daily routine:

I would go in around eight and remove Rita from the Disk and place her outside of the office. I’d take Sarah from the central display to the office. After removing her display clothes, I’d put her in a simple jumpsuit. After restoring, she was usually very frisky and we had sex on the sofa in the office. Most days I didn’t bother putting the jumpsuit on her. No one ever sat on the sofa because they were well aware of why the sofa was there.

After she got dressed, we would leave the store and eat breakfast together. Afterward she would change into her display outfit and after settling on a pose, she would turn back into a mannequin and I’d place her back in the central display. Some customers actually noticed the central display mannequin had different clothes and a different pose every day.

Around eleven I would restore Rita. She would leave to go to a gym, workout, and shower. She’d eat something and be back before one o’clock when she took over as manager. I’d usually hang out until three or four. I liked to visit Jerry at the gallery before it closed at five.

A couple months in I started finding one or another of the sales clerks as mannequins with Rita in the morning. Rita would restore the clerk and the two or three of them would go workout, eat, and return.

Around the same time that started happening, the first Mannequin Disk 4 arrived from Burma. It worked. The five new mannequin were extremely grateful to me and wanted to continue the contracts they already had or similar ones. From overhearing my telling Sarah and Barbara about the newly acquired mannequins financial status, Jemma and Kazandra convinced the twins to take a longer contract so they could go to school debt and loan free. All of them pooled their financial arrangements. They ended up spending a couple days contract free while they formed a company to contract them out to my store. The company, Mannequin Mavens, would invest their money for them. Jemma called a friend to become the fiduciary manager for them. In the end, the paper corporation had a thirty year contract with the store requiring payment annually depending on how many mannequins the company provided the store, pro rated by month.

I insisted Nimala open a new bank account without her brother and before joining the others in their investment scheme. She disappeared for a couple days before returning to sign a two year deal with the investment company. I didn’t have to pay out any money as the Mavens bought out the five contracts in lieu of annual payment for three year of five full time mannequins. For me, this meant I wouldn’t have to pay the mannequins for a decent amount of time.

Barbara was an independent contractor. She only wanted to do it for a while, or so she said. After the first month, when I restored her, she stood on the Disk glassy-eyed, a slight sway to her. She didn’t respond to her name, finger snaps near her eyes or ears, nothing. I had read about this while researching the Mannequin Disks: Mannequin Personality Disorder. Some people, after spending time as a mannequin, would remain mannequin-like afterward. Their normal personality replaced with that of a mannequin. People for whom, being a mannequin allowed them to zone out or sleep were more likely to experience MPD than people who were aware the whole time they were mannequins. Most MPD events last less than an hour. But Barbara had Severe MPD. Without help, she would remain mannequin-like until she became dehydrated.

I had noticed Barbara would never let Sarah set the Disk to automatically restore her. She always insisted on being removed from the disk and put back on to be restored manually. She must have been aware she had MPD from before meeting us. I guess this is why Tony was worried about her using the Disk.

Tony was surprised when I told him Barbara was on a week to week contract with the store. When he asked why he hadn’t seen her since the opening, I laughed and told him every week he restores her and she insists on staying another week starting immediately. I didn’t mention she would generally have an MPD event lasting no more than an hour.

“I did ask you not to tell her about the Disk,” he said. “How’s Sarah?”

“Well, I see her everyday. But I’m alone every night. That kind of thing, though, is to be expected. I’m dating a mannequin.”

Author’s Note

It’s funny. I wrote about 300 of the nearly 6.7k words of this story a year or more ago, in a file called “snippets”. I would occasionally open this file read the two snippets therein (The other snippet may have influenced some scenes in Marriage Counselor.) and close the file. A couple days ago. I opened the file. Read the two snippets. And I realized the snippet should be told first person and two characters should meet on a dating app before he finds out she’s a mannequin.

The rest just spilled out into this story.

Mannequin Hair, part 4 of 6

“Would you like to contact Sara Schofeld?” the robot said.

“Yes, now.”

The robot's head transformed into Sara's head. She squealed with delight, “Isn't this awesome? Being a robot is fun.”

“It is?”

“Command Fembot X27B to give me control of my body.”

“Give Sara control of your body.”

The immobile, rigid robot suddenly was in motion. She bent and turned and twisted in various directions to see herself.

Pointing, Paul said, “There's a mirror over there.”

Sara rushed to the mirror, “Look at how sleek and shiny I am. Every command you give to the robot gives it purpose and having purpose makes it happy which translates to pleasure for me.”

“But you were just watching me sleep most of the night.”

“The robot was on standby most of the night so I was basically asleep too. The robot finished your massage and then started cleaning the room.”

“So how long will you stay as the robot?”

“Until you move on to the next channel,” Sara said turning to him. “Or perhaps returning to channel three. You owe me $25. Did you clean my face?”

“Didn't you notice?”

“No, when you hit stop or pause I'm unaware of what goes on,” she stated turning to face him. Seeing him still naked, she slowly walked toward him.

“Really, why would you do that?”

“Well, once I was finished creating the personalities for the nine photos I mapped it to the remote so the stop returned me to mannequin form and pause left me in the flesh or robot as the case may be.”

“But none of the nine photos are of you. How do you return to being yourself?”

“There are other buttons on the remote,” she said with a mischievous smile.

“So from your point of view, you've been the hooker and the robot and nothing else?”

“Well, yeah, once I was ready for you come home, it was only 1:30 in the afternoon and I didn't want to have to sneak back into the room. I don't have a key card, you know. So I took up my position in the bedroom and activated this program. The next thing I know, I'm being propositioned for a blow job. What else have I been?”

“I didn't figure out to hit play until the channel three. And that blow job was unlike any blow job you've given me before. How was that possible?”

“I made her different than me and even I was impressed by how she handled you,” as she said handled, she reached out taking hold of his cock.

“I hope you were taking notes,” he demanded.

“Why should I when you can just call on your personal call girl? So what channels did you look at?

“I admired the first two channel mannequins but never activated them. Likewise after the hooker, I wasn't ready to get pounced by the cat woman. Since then it's been the robot.” He felt her fingers slide down toward his balls.

“Oh yes, the robot,” she said. Her hand transformed pulling his cock into her hollow arm, his balls became encased by her hand and her whole arm began to vibrate gently.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed. “How?”

“The robot is fully programmed for pleasure,” she replied. Her other hand reached up and clamped around his neck pulling his head into her head. “Command the robot to resume control and feel what a high tech French kiss feels like.”

“First, a fleshy kiss,” he kissed her full on the lips and as she responded she buzzed his cock. “Fembot, resume full control of your body and break current connection to Sara Schofeld. Also continue current activity with kissing and additional foreplay.”

Sara's face was replaced by the silver robot face. For the first time, the robot's mouth became lip shaped. The lips parted and planted themselves softly on Paul's lips. The robot's lips were sensual in their ability to slide gently against his. As they parted a tongue slowly licked his lower lip. The shivers this sent down his spine were met by the shivers caused by a slight increase in the vibrations circling his cock. The robot timed these separate events perfectly to get him ready to orgasm soon. But the robot also kept him from achieving orgasm at the same time.

Paul found it hard to think. His robot wife was totally controlling his orgasmic state. He could do nothing to shorten the time till orgasm or curb his desire for one. He wasn’t sure when it had happened but he noticed his dick was no longer attached to her arm, it was inside what he hoped was a cunt.

The robot's other arm caressed his thigh and his spine. It reached around behind him and lightly fingered his anus.

How his pleasure level could still be increasing was a question Paul would have wondered if he could think about his pleasure objectively. He was just a puddle of hormonal responses. He thought he might have cum a couple times. He wasn’t sure and frankly did not care.

He felt great, deliriously so.

Stop, he thought. That's enough. “Stop,” he whispered.

The robot ceased all motion and waited.

Paul took a few deep breaths. “Let me go and go into standby mode.” He vaguely pointed at the corner of the room.

The robot retracted several attachments back into its torso and limbs returning to humanoid shape and left Paul on the bed as it stood up from the bed, walked to the corner of the room and shutdown, the eyes blinking out instantly.

He was not feeling pain or even any discomfort. Still he lay there for several minutes as his mind worked its way back to full power. He got up and went into the shower. A short cold shower had him feeling like a million bucks. He stepped out of the shower and looked at the foggy mirror. “Fembot, come here.”

The robot entered the bathroom silently.

“Can you give me a shave?”

“Grooming is within my programming. Soap and straightedge?”

“Yes,” Paul replied sitting down on the luggage stand nearby.

The robot proceeded to heat a towel and wrap it around his face. Then it prepared soap in a bowl. A sharp knife extended from its hand.

“You are waterproof, right?”

“All my exterior panels are fully waterproof to a depth of at least one thousand feet. My circuit boards are also fully enclosed separately to protect against water damage.”

“Good.”

The robot held the knife over his head waiting. As he nodded, the robot quickly removed the stubble from his face. “Your hair requires a trimming.”

“Do that as well.”

As the robot finished wiping the last of the soap from his face the knife blade retracted and a pair of scissors appeared. A vacuum sound came from the robot's other arm and as it snipped his hair, the trimmings were suctioned up into the vacuum. The scissors were swapped for a comb and the vacuum reversed direction becoming a hair dryer and the robot finished drying and styling his hair. “Complete. Fembot X27B will now clean the room of stray hairs.”

“Very good,” Paul replied exiting the bathroom. He went to the dresser and got dressed. He went into the living room and was about to turn on the television when the robot followed him into the room.

“The weather today will be--” her voice changed pitch and became human as she repeated a weather report “--Sunny today with bright skies in the 70s.”

“Who was that?”

“Charles Joseph, meteorologist for WXKB, reported five minutes ago.”

He resisted the urge to understand how she had known that. He looked at the remote he was about to use on the television. He pointed it at the robot and hit stop.

The robot transformed. It was a subtle transformation in its current state but before he hit stop the robot seemed capable of action. The silver mannequin standing before him now was just some painted wood in the shape of a woman.

He looked again at the remote and again he figured out the secret. He hit the power button.

Sara stood where the mannequin had. She opened her eyes. “You hit the power button and shut me down.”

“Seems more like I turned you on.”

“You always turn me on,” she said stepping forward. “Especially when you are all dressed up to go be a proper business man. Did you enjoy your shave?” She trailed her fingers over his smooth face. “For me, it was like lovingly stroking your face, making it all smooth.”

He took her hand in his and kissed her full on the lips.

Her body pressed up against his as she returned the kiss.

They lingered another moment before he stopped it. “That kiss is better than the robot's kiss.”

“When Fembot dismissed me I left a command behind to kiss you silly and it worked better than I expected.”

“I'm sure the vibrator molded to my dick helped.”

“I enjoyed it,” she said. “So what am I supposed to do here all day? I can't call for room service.”

“You could always leave and arrive like a normal person and then they would let you have room service.”

“It would still be boring.”

“Fine, we'll do it your way.” He held up the remote and pressed the power button.

“Oh,” she exclaimed in surprise. Her body transforming instantly into a lifeless silver mannequin.

He pressed play.

The mannequin transformed, looking like it was more animated even though it did not move. The eyes lit up and the mouth flashed as it said, “Fembot X27B activated. Awaiting commands.”

“Contact Sara Schofeld,” Paul commanded.

The head of the robot transformed and Sara said, “That was sneaky.”

“That was what you wanted.”

“That doesn't mean it wasn't sneaky.”

“Keep it up and I'll leave you like this all day.”

“You wouldn't.”

“Knowing you, you didn't create an escape from this fantasy. If I leave you like this, I'll find you here when I return. And I'll ask how was your nine or ten hours of boredom, today?”

Sara look genuinely shocked. “That's just mean.”

“And you also want me to do it. You're a glutton for being out of control.”

“Oh, you know me too well,” she cried. “Please, leave me in standby mode or stopped all day so that after you leave and return it will feel like but a moment to me.”

“As you wish,” Paul said giving her a kiss on the cheek. She strained to turn her head but could not. “Fembot end contact with Sara.”

Sara face faded into that of the silver mask.

“Fembot, return to the bedroom, go to the corner where you were first activated and enter standby mode.”

Silently, the robot turned to carry out its orders.

Paul followed the robot into the bedroom and hit stop before it could reach the corner. It amused him that Sara was unaware that she did not make it to the corner before he left the hotel room this morning. He still had over an hour before his ride would arrive. Returning to the living room, he took out his laptop to check the sports scores from last night. As he waited to get past the hotel's slow Wi-Fi VPN system, he flipped through the remote control photographs, reading the backs.

Photograph number one was of a mannequin in black and red. The back said, “The Easy Date: Hi, my name's Debbie. I'm 26 and I've had terrible experiences looking for a guy. I'm not a slut but I do put out. Call me.”

Photograph number two was of a mannequin dressed like a Bond girl. The window display had a spy motif. The back said, “The Spy: Mark has secrets my bosses desire. Mark will desire me and tell me all I want to know.”

Photograph number four was of a mannequin in a cat costume. It said, “The Cat: Mrrrrrr-ow.”

Photograph number six was a leather clad, whip wielding mannequin. The back said, “The Dominatrix: My turn to be in control. Do not speak in my presence. Do not disobey me. Your safe word is 'I'll do anything.'”

Photograph number seven was a stunning woman in a black dress with several diamond studded accessories. The back said, “The Socialite: A nightcap after a night on the town with a popular socialite can be fun.”

Photograph number eight was a figure in a hooded bodysuit. The back said, “The Slavetoy: This slave is mute and can't complain. Fuck it, ignore it, it's all the same.”

Photograph number nine had no mannequin, just a white diaphanous gown. The back simply said, “Boo.”

Looking up at his laptop, a small icon flashed in the lower right. It was his Bluetooth icon. Clicking it, the computer reported a new unknown Bluetooth device, Thaumtech Hair, in the area. He tried to contact it but apparently lacked proper software for that kind of device. It occurred to him that the Mannequin Hair product he sent to Sara contained a software CD and wondered if that was the missing software. He typed Thaumtech Hair into his search bar and was taken to a website of the maker of Mannequin Hair.

The website was pretty slick. The company slogan read, “Blurring the distinction between magic and sufficiently advanced technology each day.” He was amused by the reference to Arthur C Clarke’s famous statement, “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.” He noticed a support page and on that page was a software download for getting the most from your Magical Mannequin Hair product.

While waiting he decided to type Fembot X27B into the search engine. He was taken to a website where someone with a lot of time on his hands had created a user’s manual for a robot that did not exist. Sara had said she had gotten the idea by searching the web for female robots and this website had drawings of the robot she turned into. The user’s manual was a downloadable PDF. He started the download.

While the program was installing, he opened the PDF. It was a full color manual over 200 pages. It was fully illustrated and had far more functions than he guessed Sara was even aware off. He flipped to a random page and read a full description of the vacuum cleaner attachments and where they were stored in the torso of the robot. He rummaged through his computer bag for a thumb drive and copied the PDF onto it.

The install finished and he launched the application. After a quick splash screen and granting the program access to the Bluetooth device, he was greeted by a screen saying it had found a compatible device and asking if it should connect to it.

He clicked YES and was shown a screen full of information about the Mannequin Hair product Sara was wearing. It listed several programs in storage such as Poly Purple 1 through 12, Mail Myself, Remote Control (running), and others. He was confused when he saw the Remote Control program was running since he had pressed STOP earlier but then he realized the program must be running until he hit the power button to deactivate it. Running out of time he breathed a sigh of relief when he found the Work Offline setting and clicked it. A Syncing window appeared for a few seconds and then disappeared. The title bar of the program now read Mannequin Hair Console (off-line).

He closed the laptop and rushed into the bedroom. The silver mannequin posed mid-stride looked exactly as he had left it. He packed the laptop, put the do not disturb sign on the door and went down to the lobby.

In the hotel lobby, Paul approached the concierge desk. “I’m wondering if you could get someone to run this drive over to a local printer and have the file on it printed and spiral bound for me.”

“Certainly Mr. Schofeld,” said the concierge taking the thumb drive. “We can bill it back to your room. It should be waiting for you at the front desk by this evening. Just sign this authorizing us to place it on your bill.”

Paul signed the form where indicated and said, “Thanks.”

“Not a problem Mr. Schofeld.” The concierge then pointed to the front of the lobby. “I think your ride is here.”

“Yes, it is,” Paul said turning to look. “Thanks again.” He hurried out of the hotel to get to his meeting.

MANIP - Snap

This is an old image I never released. I usually don't manipulate such small photos.

Transcript

What was that sound? Something snapped. It felt like it was in my lower... on no... it was in my torso. I'm falling over. What a way to ruin this perfectly fine day spent in the park as a mannequin.

That ground looks hard. It shouldn't hurt as I weigh almost nothing like this. But I'm sure the clatter I'm about to make will attract attention.

I hope no one decides to be helpful and just take me home.. Where did my boyfriend go? I hope he gets back soon.

Trust Machines - Behind The Sofa

Robert sat at the bar with a beer in front of him. He was watching the door of the bar. The bar was a bit unusual. There was a vestibule at the front with a Venn machine inside. After its appearance, the bar was sold to new owners who rebranded the bar as Invenntions.

A machine had just cycled and two gorgeous women stepped out of the machine. As a promotion, anyone venning into a woman and hanging around the bar for a couple hours could get free drinks.

As he waited, one of the venn girls, as they were called, sat on the stool next to his. “Stood up?”

“It seems that way.”

“Aw, you’re too good looking for that,” she said. “Buy you a drink?”

“Okay. Just a black and tan.”

“Nice.” She flagged the barman and order his drink and a mojito for herself. “Let’s sit over there. It’ll be quieter.”

“I have a girlfriend.”

“That’s okay. I think you want to have a chat with a friendly face.”

“Robert.”

“Darla.”

After shaking hands, they took their drinks to the table in the corner and sat down.

“Why did she stand you up?”

“He. And I have no idea.”

“Are you cheating on your girlfriend with a man? You naughty thing.”

“No, no. It’s actually a funny story. The guy use to date my girlfriend, Tabitha. But a venn accident caused him to disappear for a year.”

“Oh, my, god, that sounds awful.”

“Yeah. I felt sorry for the guy. I offered him my sofa and he made use of it for a few days as he put his life together.”

“Aren’t you just the sweetest man? Tabitha is a lucky woman.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“Certainly.”

“It’s been a week since he moved on. He calls me out of the blue and tells me he wants to thank me. Then he no shows. I don’t get it.”

“Well, I hope he didn’t have another venn accident.”

“I think he said he wasn’t going near another venn machine.”

“Well, maybe that’s why he didn’t come in here.”

“True. He did refer to the bar as O’Malley’s.”

“Oh, that poor man. I hope he gets back on the horse and tries venning again.”

“I guess.”

They chatted for a couple hours and Darla managed to get Robert to promise to stop by again some time. She said she was there most nights.

True to her word, Robert found her there a few days later and they again chatted for hours. They shared a love of melodramatic historical fiction. They talked for hours about novels they’d both read.

A couple weeks later, Darla approached the table Robert was sitting at. He was with another woman. “Hello, Robert. You must be Tabitha. Robert can’t stop talking about you.”

“Who is this, Robert?”

“Darla. I told you about her.”

“No, you didn’t. You told me you were meeting Derek at this bar the last couple weeks.”

“Oh, no. Please. I don’t want to get between you two, Honey. Robert and I sit here and talk about boring books for the most part.”

“Boring?” Robert said.

“I assumed, given how much you enjoyed talking about them with me, that the lovely Tabitha that you constantly rave about, perhaps, isn’t as enthusiastic about seventeenth century melodramas.”

“Oh, god, is that what you talk about with him? I should buy you a house. I was wondering why he stopped asking me if I’ve finished the book he gave me to read a month ago.”

“Did you finish it?” he said.

“I didn’t start it.”

He told Darla the title.

“That one did win a Pulitzer prize for literature.”

“Don’t gang up on me.”

“I’m sorry, Dear.” Darla got up. “I feel like a third wheel. You two have fun I’ll find something else to do.”

“Robert, tell Darla you’ll be here tomorrow night to chat with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. Anyone who keeps you from talking about your books with me is okay in my book. Lovely meeting you, Darla.”

“You, too, Tabitha.”

For a couple months, Robert and Darla would meet about three times a week at the bar discussing the books they read. Darla joked they were a book club of two. They eventually started meeting in his apartment because it was much quieter than the bar.

One morning after their book club, Tabitha knocked on Robert’s apartment door – she lived a few doors down on the same floor of the building. The door was unlocked. She entered his apartment and found Robert asleep in bed next to Darla. She was naked. She saw Tabitha and shook Robert awake.

“What? Tabitha?”

“I don’t want to hear any explanation.”

“What are you talking about?” He looked behind him to see Darla rub the corner of her mouth with her finger. She then put the finger in her mouth as if cleaning it off.

“She caught us.”

“Caught? What? No, no, no. Tabitha, wait.”

Darla felt a bit bad about what she’d done. She had actually enjoyed getting to know Robert and discussing literature with him. The look on Tabitha’s face was worth the trade off. She had gotten her revenge after all these months.

Months ago.

The tires squealed as the car turned hard onto the cross street. The car behind it fishtails making the same turn. The music is racing. It’s the climactic scene of the movie.

Tabitha held Robert a little tighter as the excitement mounts. As the hero’s car sideswiped a newsstand, she felt the sofa bump against her butt. She looked around briefly before returning her attention to the television.

“Did you hear that?” Robert said.

“Hear what?”

There was definitely a shout in the distance behind them. It didn’t seem to make sense with the film’s action.

“Was it behind us?”

They stood up. The sofa pushed toward them. They jumped back in surprise.

A man’s head popped up from behind the sofa. “What the fuck, Tabitha?” he said.

Robert picked up an empty beer bottle and held it threateningly. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Derek?” Tabitha said. “Put that down, Robert. Derek, were you behind the sofa all this time?”

Derek stood up. “Who’s he?”

“Oh, um… Derek, this is my boyfriend Robert. Robert, this was my boyfriend Derek.”

“Why is he behind the sofa?”

“His venn ended.”

“Venn ended?” Robert laughed. “What was he?”

“The cutest pair of red panties that I lost… um… a year ago.”

“I never should have let you talk me into venning for a year.”

Robert paused the movie with the remote.

“I told you a month would be enough to cover being my panties for a week. It was your idea to make a grand gesture of setting the machine for a year.”

“You weren’t supposed to lose me behind the sofa.”

“It turned out to be a hectic week.”

“So hectic you forgot your boyfriend was a pair of panties.”

“Note to self,” Robert said. “No inanimate venning with Tabitha.”

“You think?” Derek said.

“That’s not fair,” she said. “Angela’s husband was killed in an accident and I spent the next month at her place comforting her. I have no idea how you ended up behind the sofa.”

“Angela?” Derek said.

“Her sister. How long did you two date?”

“He venned at the end of our fourth or fifth date.”

“Did you look for me?”

“I did. I had some stuff stolen after I came back from staying at Angela’s. I figured they got you too.”

“Buddy, you fucked up if you venned for a year after just a few dates.”

“Apparently.” Derek said. “I should be mad. But I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at my supposed friends. Didn’t any of them look for me?”

“If they did, they might have done it while I was at Angela’s house.”

“Oh, yeah, the break-in. That’s when we met,” Robert said.

“That’s right,” she said, pressing herself against. “You were so helpful during that crazy time.”

“I just wanted to help.”

Derek rolled his eyes. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. “It’s still charged. But there’s no plan. Emergency calls only.”

“You want to call someone?” Richard said, holding his phone out.

“Like I know anyone’s phone number. I know where to go. Um, if I can’t find anywhere to sleep tonight, can I come back here?”

“I don’t know, Derek,” Tabitha said. “I don’t really know you.”

“It’s fine, Tabby. Derek, you can knock on my door later, number 23 two doors down. If I’m not there, knock here. I could be here,” Robert said.

“Okay. Thanks. I need to find my friends.”

There was a bar on the corner right where he expected to find it. A year ago, it had been called O’Malley’s. Today, the once dingy windows and rundown wooden facade had been replaced with modern glass and steel. The backlit sign read: Invenntion.

He had no idea where else to go. He went inside. The entire décor matched the hyper-modern exterior. Someone shouted “Doors” as soon as he entered and the entire bar turned to look at the vestibule. How was there a Venn machine in his previously favorite bar? The door opened and two stunningly beautiful women exited the machine. There was a round of cheers.

The women were not only beautiful but fully dolled up and dressed for an evening at a ball. They came around to the front of the machine and kissed briefly before merging into the gathered crowd. Derek approached the bar. He had some cash in his wallet. He found an empty stool and waited for the bartender to notice him.

“Derek?” Someone behind him said.

He didn’t recognize the woman’s voice. He turned and was face to face with one of the women who had just venned, he recognized her dress as the one who’d exited from the right side booth. “Do I know you?”

“It’s been a year. Where have you been?”

“Long story.”

“Oh, I forgot I was venned. It’s me. Marty. You just disappeared about a year ago. Where’s Gary?” She leaned toward the bar and the bartender appeared instantly. “Terry. Find Gary for me. I’ll be at that booth over there. And have a lager delivered for my friend.”

“No problem, Marsh.”

“Marsh?”

“Like this, I’m Marcia. Follow me,” she said. They walked over to a booth. It was quieter than the bar.

“A long story, you say? Well then hold onto it until Cindy, a. k. a. Gary, gets here.”

“You’ve changed.”

“This? This is so fun. The bar pays guys to make a big show of venning like this. You know I wouldn’t need to be paid to get dolled up like this. But, you have to do it in pairs.”

“Holy fuck. It’s Derek.” The other woman from the venn machine set a beer in front of Derek and joined them. “What happened to you?”

“Venn.”

“Panties?” Marcia said knowingly.

With a nod, Derek took a long drink from his beer.

“Panties?” Cindy was confused.

“This idiot will say, ‘Yes,’ to anyone asking him to become venned into panties. A year?”

“Yes, I’m a moron. Okay?”

The ladies tried not to laugh at first. But, when they found out his former girlfriend had a new boyfriend, they could no long help themselves.

Robert opened the door to his apartment and found Derek standing there.

“No luck?”

“I need a few days. My friend Gary thinks he can get me into his place but he has to get his other roommates to agree to it.”

“You can stay with me for a few days.”

“Thanks.”

“Let me get you some pajamas. You can get changed in the bathroom. I’ve only got this couch here. But it should be comfy enough to sleep on.”

In the morning, Derek woke to the smell of breakfast cooking. He got up and found Robert making eggs and bacon. “You didn’t have to cook.”

“I love to cook.”

“I saw the shelf of books. You also love to read.”

“I do. Do you like historical fiction?”

“Never really tried it. Tabitha must drive you crazy.”

“Other way around. I often forget she can’t stand these books and talk about the one I’ve just read far more than I should.”

“That’s amusing.”

Derek was at the bar with Marcia and Cindy. “What do you think of my plan?”

“I think it’s cruel.”

“I think you’ll fuck it up.”

“That too. Let it go, Derek. From what you’ve said, Robert is a great guy. You’re going to hurt him too.”

“Yeah, he is nice. I’ve been reading some of his books as part of the plan. I kind of like them.”

“Don’t do it.”

He did it. Or Darla did it. It took several months. Darla was telling Gary and Marty about the success. Only Darla was a venn girl.

“What are you going to do now?”

“Not sure. I’ve spent the last few months as Darla. I still don’t own any clothes for Derek. Maybe I’ll stay Darla. I’ve gotten use to it, I think.”

“We should hit the machine.”

“Okay.” Gary and Marty left Darla at the table to go become venn girls.

A man stepped up to Darla. “May I join you?” He was rather attractive. And after spending so much time with Robert and not being able to touch him. She was in the mood for a good time.

“Sure.”

After chatting for a while, Edward invited her back to his hotel room where they did have a good time. Darla and Edward stayed in touch and spent a couple more evenings together when Edward came to the city on business once a month.

Darla received a package one day. In it was a bra and a note from Edward. The note said Edward was the bra. She was to wear him for a day and then mail him back, in the provided mailer.

Edward would mail himself to Darla in the middle of the month. She just had to get him back in the mail soon after wearing him. He had a friend who would restore him as soon as he was mailed back.

After doing this a few time, Edward was staying for the weekend. On Saturday, he suggested that she venn him into a bra for eight hours. She was happy to do it. As usual, she didn’t pay attention to Edward setting up the machine and got into the booth.

Edward got in the other side and said, “History.” There were several different images of Darla and at the bottom of the display was a pair of lacy, red panties. He selected the panties and hit the green button.

Edward stepped out of the booth. Robert appeared stepping around the corner of the machine holding the panties. Edward re-entered the booth and cycled the machine. Tabitha stepped out.

They went to her apartment where Tabitha held the panties over the back of the sofa and dropped them behind it. “See you next year, Derek.” She dropped the bra that had supposedly been Edward behind the sofa as well. “Enjoy the bra, too.”

Mannequin Hair, part 3 of 6

“What do you have that’s more exotic?”

She stepped over to the papers and said, “Let me try something. I am wearing a perfectly fitted, well tailored from expensive fabrics version of this paper dress.” The green dress disappeared and she was now dressed in the red and white teddy, white stockings and tall stiletto heels. “How do I look?”

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful, but could I see that on a mannequin.”

She sighed. “I knew you would ask eventually.” She took a step toward Paul, leaned forward at the waist and arched her back upward. Her left arm was near her crotch and her right hand was raised up to Paul, her fingers were curled away from Paul except the index finger, which was indicating “come here”. Her head was rotated slightly to the right but her eyes were still locked on his as she thought, “I am solid.”

“Beautiful,” Paul said aloud. He walked toward her, obeying her come hither look. He circled around her before touching her skin. It was cool, smooth and hard to the touch. He came around to her face and placed his lips on hers.

She returned to normal a few seconds into the kiss. They helped each other out of their clothes and spoke little as they made love.

Paul woke her gently as it was morning and he had to leave for more business meetings. “I don't know when I'll be back,” was about all Sara remembered hearing.

When she woke up later she was feeling a little lazy and didn’t want to get up for a shower. After a moment she sat up and thought, “I am perfectly clean and styled and made up for a day of window shopping.” And she was. She stood and went into the bathroom. In the mirror she saw that her hair was perfectly coiffed, her face was made up in the style she preferred and she still wasn’t wearing any clothes. There was even a hint of her perfume in the air. She used the toilet and imagined up a beautiful sundress and hat with matching bag and pumps.

Soon, she was out the door and strolling past the boutiques on Madison Ave. As she passed the shops she wished she had a camera and when she felt her bag get heavier she changed her mind and the bag lightened again. This gave her an idea. She looked at a particularly striking outfit in a window display and imagined a photograph of the display, highlighting the mannequin and its outfit was in her purse. Then she walked a couple windows away and opened her purse. There was a photograph. It was not a photograph she could have taken as there was no sign of the window or the rest of the shop behind the lone figure wearing the dress.

With a skip in her step she created photographs of many different trendy and avant garde outfits. Sometimes she liked an image just for the pose of the mannequin. After having lunch at a nearby Italian bistro, she returned to the hotel. When she got to the room she realized she had no way to get in. Luckily the floor was being cleaned by house keeping when she arrived. She changed her clothes to match the housekeeping uniform and walked into Paul's suite. She stepped past the maid working in the bathroom and headed through the living room into the bedroom. And then quickly transformed herself into a living Polly Purple doll and hid inside a drawer. When the maid came into the bedroom Sara moved to the back of the drawer. The maid pulled the drawer out.

“¿Qué?” The maid looked into the drawer and saw a sheet of paper with a paper doll on it in the drawer. Shrugging, she closed the drawer tight.

Sara stayed in the drawer for at least five extra minutes after she could no longer hear the cleaning staff. Then she thought, “I am a living, paper doll.” She stood up from the paper and reached up to the top of the drawer, slipping her flat hand through the space between the drawer and the dresser. It took a little struggling and a little wiggling to get through the slot. Once she was far enough out, she found herself floating to the floor.

She returned to normal and took the set of photographs out of her purse. She spread them out on the desk in the living room, looking for inspiration. She collected a dozen of her favorite looks and held them in hand, flipping from one to another when she was inspired. Looking around the room she saw a remote control for a DVD player in the room. She put a book in front of the player's remote control sensor and pointed the remote at herself.

“I am controlled by my mental commands and by this remote control. Mental commands override remote commands. When the pause button is pressed I solidify two seconds later. When the play button is pressed I return to flesh immediately.” She pressed the pause button and dropped the remote down on the table. A second later she was solid. Instantly she willed herself back to flesh. Smiling, she knew what Paul would find when he returned later.

* * *

Paul returned to his hotel suite as soon as he could. He wondered what Sara had done all day. She hadn’t answered the phone when he called earlier. The living room/kitchenette was empty as he entered. He put down his briefcase and noticed something unusual at the coffee table. On a sheet of paper, in large letters it read “Bedroom Mannequin Directory. Choose your channel and play with one.” The DVD remote control was sitting on the paper where nine pictures of mannequins were arranged and numbered one through nine.

Since the pictures were not attached to the paper, he could not easily pick it up. So, he picked up the remote and walked into the bedroom. In the far corner a featureless, hairless, nude mannequin stood in a neutral pose, its arms straight down with the hands barely touching its thighs. He held up the remote and pressed the number one.

The mannequin transformed instantly. The face was now Sara's face with long blond hair, her head looking to her right. She stood with one leg in front of the other, her hands were on her hips, arms akimbo. She was wearing a loose white blouse and a black and red pleated skirt. She wore red patent leather stilettos and dark nylon hosiery.

After a moment admiring the mannequin, Paul hit the two button on the remote.

Once again, Sara and her clothes instantly transformed. She stood on one leg, her right leg bent upward at the knee. Her left arm was down turned away from her holding her steady against the wall. Her other arm was bent fully at the elbow with her hand posed like a pistol. Her lips formed a small circle as if she were blowing air across the end of her fingertip. She wore a knee-length gaberdine trench coat zipped up only to her waist. No clothing was visible through her open top giving Paul a wonderful view of the inner side of her left breast.

Paul put the remote down and approached Sara. “No reaction?” He asked as he fingered the inner lining of the coat. His finger reached the zipper and he pulled it down all the while staring her in the eye. Once open, he pulled the sleeve up and over the finger gun and tossed the coat behind her where it slid off her left arm and fell to the floor. Her body had remained rigid throughout the undressing and he noticed she really looked like a constructed mannequin. Her breasts were not adorned with nipples. Her crotch was smooth and featureless. Her hands, arms, legs, and head could all be removed from her torso.

Paul returned to the living room. He noticed differences between pictures one and two and how Sara had interpreted them. The picture of the mannequin in the trench coat had been wearing a blue dress beneath its open coat. He wondered how the lingerie pictures on numbers seven through nine might vary. He also wondered if he was supposed to do them in order like a slide show. He flipped over photo number two and found a short description. Her name was Vanessa and she was a spy trying to seduce the American business man to gain his corporate secrets. That explained the lack of clothes, he supposed. He flipped through the pictures again examining the role play on the back.

Returning to the bedroom, the mannequin and coat remained exactly as he had left them. He picked up the coat and placed it on the bed. He pressed three on the remote.

A woman with only passing resemblance to Sara was suddenly leaning against the wall, her right leg on the ground, her left foot against the wall. Her right hand was held out, cupped toward her body as if calling someone over. Her other hand held the bottom of her short shirt. The bend of her elbow implied she could pull the skirt up higher if asked. The miniskirt was made of vinyl and fire-engine red. Her blouse was white and open at the front to reveal her cleavage. She wore a faux-fur shawl on her shoulders that looked cheap though not as cheap as the fishnet stockings and black fuck-me pumps that rounded out the outfit. Her makeup was over exaggerated and the colors were too bright.

Her outfit only vaguely resembled the picture. Flipping the picture over it read: “The Hooker: BJ $25/Swallow +$15. Fuck $50/$75. +$25 each additional half hour.” How could a mannequin give a blow job? He wondered. How was he to play with the mannequins. And then it dawned on him. He held up the remote and pressed play.

Sara blew a bubble and let it pop loudly. “Nice place you gots here. Am I by the wall for a reason? You like it standing up or on the bed.” Her voice was higher than normal and had a thick New York accent.

“Maybe both,” he replied removing his tie. “How about unzipping for a quick blow before I fuck you?”

“You're the boss,” she replied and she bent down in front of him and reached for his pants.

He hit pause on the remote and she stopped in place. She did not transform back into a mannequin. Curious, he pressed the stop button on the remote and then she transformed into a mannequin. He pressed play and she continued reaching for his zipper as if nothing had happened. He felt better as she freed his hard cock from his pants. Her transformations into a mannequin played to his fetish but the idea she would pretend to be his whore had him even more fired up.

When Sara created the hooker character she had not realized how deeply it would take control. Before licking his dick she removed the gum and stuck it to her vinyl skirt. Sara rarely indulged Paul in a blow job and always felt like she was not doing it right. But in the persona of the whore she had tricks and tips in her mind that she was not sure where they came from. She used her lips to slick his erection from tip to steam and back on the outside before opening her mouth and taking his full erection into her mouth. The engorged head of his cock reached the back of her throat and she did not feel any gagging sensation. With a practiced fluidity her mouth slid up and down the length of his cock.

As he was ready to unload he remembered to save some money. He pulled out of her mouth, spraying her face with his cum. Before she could move he pressed stop turning her into a mannequin. He went to the bathroom for a towel and washed the cum from her face. Tossing the towel in the tub, he returned and picked up the remote, pressing number four.

Sara's body position switched instantly from a half crouch to a standing position, her arms held up in front her like claws. She wore a cheetah patterned, sheer body suit. Her eyes were hidden beyond a ballroom style cheetah mask and a tail hung down from her backside. She was posed like she was about to pounce.

Paul was not sure he wanted to be pounced so he pressed the five button on the remote. A naked, hairless, silver-skinned mannequin replaced the cheetah. She stood at attention. Her nose was just a bump on her face and the head was smooth along sides having no ears. Curious, Paul pressed play.

The eyes of the mannequin lit up a cool blue color. “Fembot X27B activated,” she intoned flatly. “Owner designated Paul Schofeld. Voice actuated commands enabled. Awaiting instructions.” With each syllable, her lips flashed red, though they never moved.

“What are your capabilities?”

“Fembot X27B is designed to perform any request with precision, accuracy and when applicable, full pleasure. Fembot X27B can cook, clean, and maintain your household and most automobiles. Fembot X27B can entertain with a full array of movies, music and stage performances. Fembot X27B is programmed to massage, pamper, groom, and perform sexual acts on humans.”

Paul started removing his cloths. “I'd like a massage. Should I lie down on the bed?”

“Fembot X27B can give Paul Schofeld a full body massage on the bed. Lay face down and Fembot X27B will commence massage when commanded.”

Once naked, Paul laid down on the bed and after a pause said, “Commence.”

The robot moved for the first time and its movements were fast and precise. Paul could feel the hands of the robot against his upper back and they did not feel like hands. The robot placed a headphone around his head and soft jazz played. Looking up, the headphones trailed back to a partially-open compartment in the robot's thigh. The movement on his back was definitely not human hands but it did feel amazing. He could feel all the tension in his neck and lower back easing away.

Paul awoke in darkness. City lights were visible in the hotel window so it was still nighttime. The robot stood a few feet from the bed at attention. The eyes were dim. “Sara?” he called.

There was no response.

He got up and turned on a light. He noticed a power chord connecting the robot to a wall receptacle. The clothes he had taken off were nowhere to be seen. The room was spotless. He could not imagine the room had ever been this clean since the hotel was built. He could not see the remote control. He stepped into the other room and saw it sitting next to the television. The pile of photographs Sara had left him was untouched on the kitchenette counter. He picked up the fifth picture and turned it over. It read, “The Robot: Fembot X27B is a full service personal robot capability of any activity one may look up in the yellow pages as well as any and all sexual activities one would not find in the yellow pages. If Fembot X27B can’t do it, Fembot X27B has an attachment for it in some secret compartment in its torso, limbs, or multifunction hands or Fembot X27B can transform itself to solve the problem. Fembot X27B is owned by Paul Schofeld.”

Paul shook his head and returned to the bedroom. He said, “Activate.”

The robot's eyes lit up. “Fembot X27B activated.” The power chord detached itself from the wall and was retracted back into the robot's stomach. A panel slid shut and disappeared into the silvered finish of the robot's body.

“How long have I been asleep?”

“Time asleep estimated at five hours, thirty-seven minutes.”

“How long will you be a robot?”

“Fembot X27B with proper maintenance should function for over two hundred years.”

“No, I meant how long will Sara remain a robot?”

“Who is Sara?”

“My wife, Sara,” Paul replied.

“Sara Schofeld, owner Paul Schofeld's wife, cannot reply.”

Office Gab

“Look at her,” Eve said.

“Must have been a wonderful anniversary last night,” Jen said.

“Oh, both of you stop,” Madelyn said, sitting next to Eve at the cafeteria dining table. She picked up the mug on her tray and sipped her tea.

“Well, how was your evening?”

“Mark took me out to Rochelle’s.”

“Rochelle’s? Fancy.”

“Easy. You can go to Rochelle’s any time you want.”

“He called ahead for the chef’s table in the kitchen.”

“Fuck. Okay, slightly more effort than ‘easy’. But very pricey. Maybe, he likes you,” Jen said.

“Stop that.”

“Ten years, right? What did you get him?” Eve said.

“Yes, ten years. Funny thing about that. Neither of us brought our gifts to the restaurant. The chef’s table is a booth that holds four people. There’s a chair that the chef brings to the end of the table to sit in and removes when he’s done. He introduces himself and he tells us what the menu will be. And then he asked if we’d be exchanging gifts as he knew it was our anniversary.

“We looked at one another and both laughed. Mark says his gift was of an awkward size to bring here and I said Mark would have a heart attack if he opened his gift in a hot, humid kitchen.”

“What was it?”

“I got Mark three very rare and old books. Never bring an old book into a kitchen.”

“I’ve seen Mark’s book collection,” Eve said. “It’s the real deal.”

“Exactly.”

“Okay, so what was too awkward to bring with him?”

“I’ll get to that. After dinner, we head back home. I unlocked the door and as soon as the door opens, Mark sweeps me into his arms and, well, we spent a couple hours in bed.”

“Go, Mark!” Jen said.

“No wonder you’re still smiling,” Eve said.

“We were laying in bed. I expected to fall asleep with my head on his shoulder when he says, ‘Do you want to know what I got you?’

“I’d forgotten all about the gifts. We got out of bed and I notice a wrapped box sitting in the corner of the room. Bow and everything. ‘Is that mine?’ I said.

“He says I should give him his gift first because of how I’ll react to his gift.”

“That’s odd.”

“It was odd. But he wouldn’t budge and wouldn’t let me near the box. I relented and got him his gift. He almost cried when he saw the books. He said he’d been looking for one of them for years. I allowed him to give me a kiss before demanding to open my gift.”

“That was kind of you.”

“I removing the wrapping paper and it’s just a plain cardboard box that’s obviously been opened before. In fact, it was topside down on the floor. I moved the box aside and there is was.”

“Look at her face.”

“What was it?”

“It was a mannequinizer platform, a Mannequin Disk 2.”

“What?” Eve said.

“Yeah, what?”

“Wait,” Eve said. “That thing you told me about.”

Madelyn nodded.

“What?” Jen said.

“Let me,” Eve said. “Our head of accounting here has a secret desire. Can I call it a fetish?”

“I prefer kink, I think,” Madelyn said with a giggle.

“A secret kink to be rendered into an immobile object, such as a mannequin.”

“Like, a mannequin mannequin?”

“Exactly,” Madelyn said.

“And this really expensive device she received can transform her into one and presumably back to normal.”

“Something like that exists? How is that possible?” Jen said.

“It’s a very expensive device,” Madelyn said.

“What does Mark do for a living? Because very expensive and head of accounting don’t really go together?”

“Mark is the third partner at a high end law firm,” Eve said.

“Second partner. Old man Petrie retired last year. Mark and Edward bought him out. They’ll drop his name from the firm in a few years.”

“Back to the important stuff. You used it?” Eve said.

“I did. Mark dragged me into the shower and we washed one another and then he had me get on the platform nude and pose like a mannequin. Oh, it was wonderful.”

“How did it feel?”

“First, it gripped me like a vice. I couldn’t even blink. Then, my skin tingled and it felt like the tingle seeped into my skin. That was like a two-hour deep tissue massage in a five seconds. I was instantly relaxed.

“Mark fiddled with the controls and then kissed me good night.”

“No pics?”

“Oh, there are pics,” Madelyn said, getting her phone out. “He left me there overnight and in the morning. The morning was the best part. He dressed me.”

“Dressed you?”

She stood up and handed her phone to Eve. She did a little spin and sat down. “Everything you see on me right now, he put on the mannequin. Even my necklace.”

Eve looked at the phone. It was a pic of a mannequin resembling Madelyn wearing the clothes she had on now. She handed the phone to Jen.

Jen handed the phone back to Maddy. “I have so many questions. But, I’ve got to go get something from my car before lunch ends. I’ll see you Monday.”

“Okay.”

“Have a good weekend,” Madelyn said.

“Speaking of which, what will you be doing over the weekend?” Eve said.

Madelyn’s smiling face smiled a little more.

* * *

“I thought she was all smiles on Friday,” Eve said.

“Oh, stop.”

“Were you alive at all this weekend?” Jen said.

“For the most part, no.”

“I’ve got to know. What is it about being a mannequin that you like so much?”

“It’s serene. And when Mark is taking clothes off me or putting clothes on me it is so sexy. It’s like foreplay for mannequins and it revs me up like that.

“Friday night, I got home before him and I immediately went to the bedroom. I laid out two different outfits and zapped myself.”

“What kind of outfits?”

“One was normal pajamas and one was a complete lace lingerie set in red: half corset, garter, stockings, panties, gloves.

“When Mark came into the bedroom he looked at the two outfits and said, ‘Someone forgot we’re going to the Mayor’s party tonight.”

“The Mayor’s Annual Charity Ball? Fancy.”

“I had forgotten. He dressed me in the beautiful green gown I had bought for Friday’s party, including nude panty hose and ended the transformation. As soon as I could I grabbed him by the shirt and kissed him. He just says, ‘We’re late.’

“I said, ‘I’m so horny. And someone didn’t put panties on the mannequin.’

“He laughed, ‘You noticed?’

“I wanted to kill him. I quickly did my makeup and put on underwear. The party was the usual crowd and I was horny the entire time I was there. Mark knew. We danced and he’s squeezing my ass on the dance floor.”

“Did it pay off for him?”

“Yes.”

“Yes? Yes, what? Details.” Jen said.

“When we got home I ripped his clothes off and may have smeared my lipstick where no one would see it on Mark.”

“Everyone in accounting asks us why we eat lunch with their frigid boss. If only they knew.”

“They will remain ignorant if you know what’s good for you.”

“My lips, unlike yours, are sealed,” Eve said.

Jen and Eve laughed.

“Fair.” Maddy joined in on the laugh. “We did fall asleep in bed. Saturday morning I got on the platform before Mark woke and after using the bathroom. When he woke, he dressed me in the lingerie set from the night before.”

“Oo, nice.”

“You would think. Then he disappeared into the walk-in closet and came out wearing one of his golf outfits. Before he leaves he says, ’I have an eleven o’clock tee time with Deputy Mayor Singh. Enjoy your day.’”

“It’s your own fault for being a mannequin before knowing his plans,” Eve said.

“I suspect this was, like, the best part for Maddy,” Jen said. “He treated her like a mannequin.”

“Someone gets it.”

“Don’t you have enough guys who objectify you in normal life? Why would you want Mark to treat you like an object?”

“Being objectified sucks usually because some asshole is reducing you to a pair of tits or a nice piece of ass. Or sometimes something worse. Deciding to be an object and having the love of your life respect that choice and ‘play along’ with it… that’s indescribable. They sounds the same, objectification versus being an object. They aren’t the same.”

“I have a one o’clock,” Jen said. “I’ve got to jot some notes down before it. See you later, Ladies.” She left.

“Don’t expect me to understand,” Eve said. “You’ve been trying to explain it to me for years. I’m just happy you’re happy.”

“I don’t need anything more from a friend.”

* * *

Friday evening, Madelyn got on the elevator. Except for Jen, it was empty. “Glad this day is over.”

“Me, too,” Jen said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Isn’t your floor below mine?”

“Yes.”

“So why were you in the elevator?”

“I hit the up button by mistake.”

“Oh. Of course.”

The doors opened onto the underground parking level.

“Don’t you take the bus to work?” Maddy said.

“Yes. I was wondering if perhaps it might be possible to… um…”

Maddy hit the door locks button on her key fob and the lights on her car flashed and the horn tooted.

“Possible to what?”

“To invite myself to your home and… um… give your… your mannequinizer a try.”

“You want to be turned into a mannequin.”

Jen just nodded, afraid to speak.

“I don’t see why not. But how will you get home?”

“I brought a change of clothes so if I could spend the night… I know it’s a big imposition but ever since you said the device exists I’ve been… um…”

“Get in the car,” Maddy said with a laugh. She watched as Jen got in the car giddy as a school girl. She got in and drove out of the parking level. “You have it bad. Don’t you, Jen?”

“What?”

“Have you been dreaming about being a mannequin since last week?”

“I have. Since before that. Although, in my dreams, I’m turned into a… a sex doll.”

“A sex doll?”

“Yeah, the guy just puts me in bed and uses me and then during the night I roll off the bed and just lay face down on floor for a few days before he cleans me up and puts me in the closet for an unknown stretch of time. Then he takes me out and the cycle repeats.”

“You have it worse than I thought.”

“I thought I was the only one who had these kinds of ideas before I found stories on the Internet in college.”

“These thoughts are older than college?”

“Younger me wanted to be a mannequin. It was later that the idea... matured.”

Jen tried to change the subject to something work related but Maddy said, “Before you change the subject, have you been leaving lunch early to do something perhaps in the bathroom?”

It was quiet until Jen said, “I am so glad you can’t see how beet red my face must be.”

* * *

Mark wasn’t home when they arrived. Maddy told Jen to put her stuff in the guest room and then took her into the master bedroom. She spent a few moments explaining the operation of the platform. She ended, saying, “Do you want to go for broke?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t turn you into a sex doll. But, we can get close.”

“How?”

Madelyn opened a drawer on a bedside table and pulled out a box. “I’ve been meaning to try this but having you do a test run can’t hurt. For our fifth wedding anniversary, Mark had a phallic dildo made based on a mold of his thing.”

“I thought sixth anniversary was dick, not fifth.”

“He kind of regretted it for a while until he caught me using it a few months later. Anyway, suppose the dildo was in your mouth when we transform you and I removed it afterward.”

“Would I be posed kneeling perhaps?”

“Up to you.”

“I should get undressed first.”

“You don’t want me to undress you.”

“I would if I were a mannequin. But mannequins don’t pose like I’m going to.”

“I suppose they don’t.”

Jen removed her clothes and knelt down on the platform. “Don’t zap me until the balls on the dildo are flush against my chin.”

“Can you take it? Mark isn’t short,” Maddy said holding up the dildo.

“Wow. He is big. I only have to hold it in place for a few seconds, right?”

“True.”

It took Jen a few moments to relax her throat sufficiently to take the whole dildo in. She waved her hand and then put both arms behind her back, clasping her wrists, just as Madelyn activated the machine.

“I’ve never seen the transformation from this side. You’re entire body was suffused with light which quickly faded until there were just motes of light dancing across your skin. That probably coincides with the tingling feeling.” She removed the dildo from the mannequin’s mouth.

She brushed her hands against her chest to confirm that her nipples were hard. She had just turned her friend into a fuck toy for her husband.

She kicked off her heels and got into bed in full view of the mannequin. After stroking her clitoris, she pushed the saliva lubricated dildo inside her ready hole. She was about to cum when Mark entered the room. She was past the point of no return and just continued her assault on herself and soon she was riding the pleasure wave downward.

“I guess I’m late,” Mark said. He crawled into bed next to her. He had changed out of his work clothes and was just wearing a pair of boxers. “You haven’t used my second dick in a while, that I’m aware of.”

“What? I told you when you gave it to me I wouldn’t need it if you remained the wonderful and attentive man who married me.” She said and they kissed. His kiss didn’t stop when his lips left hers. He continued to kiss her down her neck and chest to her breast.

“Who are… we giving… this show… to?” He said between kisses.

She moaned as she said, “...ohh-nnifer. I mean Jennifer.”

“Did you... convince... her to do... this... or was it... her... idea?” He continued down her stomach.

“She asked. Hmmmmmmm. She told me about a fantasy…. Oh, again… A fantasy about being a sex doll.”

“Her mouth… did seem… deep.”

“You looked… oh! God!!... Into her mouth?”

“You were… busy.” He was no longer technically kissing her, using his mouth to pleasure her clitoris.

“Don’t stop.” She grabbed hold of his head and held him between her legs until she came a second time that evening. She was catching her breath and didn’t realize Mark was moving until she felt his tip pushing into her fully-foreplayed opening. He slid in easily.

“More?”

“I haven’t cum yet.” He grabbed hold of her legs and pushed her knees down to the bed.

“Oh!!” She moaned. “You are so... fucking deep.”

Maddy’s brain checked out for a while. She heard him saying he was close. And she may have nodded in reaction to that statement. She wasn’t sure. She was staring at the ceiling acutely aware of his cum slowly dripping out of her vagina. She moved her arm and found him laying beside her.

“Are you back?” he said.

“Maybe.”

“If I had known we could be having sex like this, I’d have suggested getting someone to watch myself.”

“Oh, god, Jen saw all that?”

“She did.”

“Good. Sometimes she and Eve don’t believe me when I say we have a healthy sex life.”

After a moment, Mark said, “Is it your intention that I fuck your friend’s mouth?”

“No, it was my intention for you to fuck that mannequin’s mouth.”

“That difference really only matters to you.”

“It matters to her, too. She’s got it worse than me. When I told her about our exploits with the machine at lunch, she would excuse herself to Jill off in the bathroom afterward.”

“You told your friends about being a mannequin?”

She just pointed at the kneeling figure in the corner of the room.

“Of course. I mean you described it to the point that they realize you get off on it.”

“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Aside from having observed Edward’s foot fetish, I can’t say I know anything about what turns on my friends.”

“And they don’t know what you like?”

“Nope.”

“That’s a shame. Men should be more open.”

“I really don’t want to find out a friend of mine favors getting pegged by his wife with a strap on over other options.”

“That was intriguingly specific. Which one do you suspect?”

“Gerald.”

She laughed.

“What?”

“Paula owns a strap on.”

“No way.”

“According to Paula, not only is Gerald one hundred percent submissive. He had a dungeon built into their home just for her to torture him.”

“I don’t need to know that.”

“Leather catsuits, bondage installations, leather masks…”

“Stop.”

She laughed again.

“All I needed for you was enough connections to purchase a nanite prototype device.”

“Easier to clean than a leather catsuit.”

They lay there quietly, his fingers twirled in her hair.

“I’m in no condition to christen your friend’s mouth. When was she planning to leave?”

“She brought a change of clothes… Oh, my. I just realized.”

“What?”

“She was in the elevator when I got on this evening. But her floor is below mine. She was hoping she would ‘just happen to run into me’ and ask if she could use the platform.”

“I’m not following.”

“The last few nights when I would leave work she would be in the elevator when I got on. But until today, we were never the only two people on the elevator. She’s been trying to get me alone to ask if she could come here for the last three days.”

“She really does have it bad.” Mark said. “How would she feel if we kept her trapped like that all-ll-ll weekend?” Mark was looking Maddy directly in the eyes as he said this. He put the back of his hand against her cheek. “You are so flushed. Is the idea of keeping Jennifer as a mannequin all weekend revving you up?”

“I still can’t wait to see you fuck that mouth.”

“Maybe I should put her on the bed and put you on the Mannequin Disk. You can watch me do her just like she watched me do you.”

“Oh, god. Okay. Do it.” She jumped out of bed and moved Jen off the platform. She set the controls and got on. “I’ll be looking at the bed.”

“Okay.”

Her skin lit up. There was an audible thrum. Motes of light disappeared into her plastic surface. Silence.

He picked up Jennifer and put her mouth up against Maddy’s body. “As I said, Maddy, I’m too tired to properly make use of Jennifer’s mouth. I’m going to go to sleep. Good night, Maddy. Jennifer, I hope you’re enjoying your stay. Good night.”

He left the room to eat something light for dinner. When he returned to the bedroom, the two mannequins had not moved, of course. He made it obvious he was ignoring them as he got ready for bed.

* * *

In the morning, he turned the standing mannequin a bit to the right and put the other one in its line of sight. He stood in front of the kneeling mannequin and rubbed some liquid lube on his already firm dick. Slowly he pushed into its mouth. A perfect fit.

Twenty minutes later he had the kneeling mannequin’s head in the bathroom where he thoroughly washed its mouth out with soap and water. He put the head back on the mannequin. He moved the kneeling mannequin through a doorway and dumped it in a heap in the far corner of the walk-in closet. He got dressed. He grabbed clothes for Maddy and left the dark closet.

After dressing Maddy, he activated the platform and, soon, she was human once more. “What’d you do with Jen?”

“I dumped her in a heap on the closet floor. You said it was part of her fantasy.”

“Oh, god. She must be in heaven. Why am I dressed?”

“We have a lunch date today.”

“We do?”

“With Paula and Gerald. I’m going to be wondering how long the strap on is the whole time I’m there.”

“Sorry.”

* * *

“You’re slipping, Maddy. Jen’s smile is far more ear-to-ear than yours. What did you do this weekend, Jen?” Eve said.

She looked at Maddy. “Absolutely nothing.”

“I’d say that’s accurate.”

“You know what Jen did this weekend?”

“She did come to my house Friday night.”

“She did?”

“I had been… curious about her transformation toy.”

“You had Maddy turn you into a mannequin.”

“Basically.”

“What does ‘basically’ mean?”

Maddy went into heavy detail about what she did to Jennifer on Friday night.

Jen went into detail about what she saw Madelyn and then Madelyn and Mark do in bed Friday night.

Maddy then described what happened to Jen Saturday morning.

“He left you slumped over on your head and shoulders on the floor of a walk in closet. Then he turned the lights out and left you there?”

“He got dressed first. And grabbed some clothes for Maddy. They were nice clothes. What did you do after that?”

“We had a lunch date with one of Mark’s associates. We ended up staying at the country club most of the afternoon. Then Mark took me to dinner and we made out in front of the television before he went to bed and I went all stiff.”

“Oh, that must be when he did my mouth the second time. It was definitely dark out at the time.”

“He did you a second time?” Maddy said. “That sneaky devil.”

“I didn’t ask him.”

“Oh, no worries. I’m not mad. I’m glad you got to experience it twice.”

“It wasn’t enough.”

“What?” Eve said.

“It was everything I’ve dreamed about since puberty.”

“Is that why you’re single?”

“Could be. I’ve just never really connected with a guy. Or a woman. I spent like nine months seeing if I were a lesbian. Nope. My excitement about men isn’t much better. Sometimes I think I’m asexual as a person and bisexual as an object.”

“I don’t get it.” Eve said.

“I could never test this out before this weekend. I mean I’ve had sex with men and women and while it felt nice it didn’t really do much for me. I’ve seen how people react in pornos and I thought that was just overacting until I witnessed what Maddy experienced with Mark. It never did that for me. When Mark’s cock was in my non-living hole I was so turned on. I wanted him to fuck it for hours. When he left my mouth pressed up against your mannequin body. I was so turned on.

“Like Maddy described being turned on when someone you love treats you like an object, I feel like that only when I’m treated like an object. When Mark dumped me in the closet, I might have orgasmed. I’ve never orgasmed so I have nothing to compare it to.”

The conversation paused naturally.

Maddy said, “Did you do anything interesting this weekend, Eve?”

* * *

The mannequin sat on the sofa, its mouth was opened, molded in the photo negative shape of Mark’s cock. A similar opening in the mannequin’s crotch had been made from a second dildo taken from a mold of Mark’s cock. Madelyn sat next to the mannequin. She was fingering the lower hole as they watched television.

Mark entered the room. He had just gotten home from visiting a friend. “Happy Anniversary, Jennifer.”

“What?” Madelyn said.

“It’s been six months since Jen moved in.”

“It’s been that long?”

“You’re the one who’s been driving her back and forth to work the last six months.”

“Time flies. You got up early for a Saturday morning. Where did you go?”

“I got a call a few days ago from the guy who set me up with the mannequinizer.”

“What did he want?”

“To check in and to tell me he had something for me.”

“Oo, what?”

“I told him about Jennifer shortly after she moved in. He said he might be able to help her out.”

“Help her out? She spends all her time with us. She ended the lease on her apartment a few months ago.”

“As a mannequin.” He held up a USB stick. “He told me to plug this into the expansion port of the platform. It will add… options.”

Maddy stood up, reaching for the stick. “What kinds of options?”

He yanked it away just as she snatched at it. “C’mon.”

She was in the room, naked, and standing on the platform as he carried Jennifer into the bedroom. “Get down from there. I can’t upgrade it with you on it.”

“Aw.”

He bent down and plugged the stick in. He hit the activation switch. And the normally blue light that would come on to indicate normal activation was red and flashing. It flashed for several minutes before going dark again.

Mark grabbed Maddy’s hand to stop her from getting on the platform. “Jennifer first.” He put the mannequin on the platform. He pressed and held the activation button. The light flashed blue. Then after a few seconds, the flashing color changed to a light green. He let go of the button and the light remained green.

Light flashed all over the mannequin’s surface before becoming pale motes of light that disappeared into its surface.

It was no longer a mannequin. And it wasn’t human. The inverse phallic hole the mannequin had was replaced by a normal looking closed mouth.

He reached out and squeezed the doll’s breasts. They were firm, but soft and they returned to their original shape when he let go.

“She’s a doll?” Maddy said.

“A sex doll. Anatomically correct. You can open and closed the mouth.” He demonstrated.

“You turned Jennifer into a sex doll?”

“Yes.”

“And not me?”

“You want to be a sex doll.”

She picked up the doll and set it down not far from the machine.

“What do I do?”

“If you hold down the activation button for three seconds, instead of performing the transformation, it will flash blue or green. Blue sets the disk to the mannequin transformation mode. Green is the doll transformation mode. Since it just did a doll transformation, it will do that again if you just tap the button.”

She tapped the activation button and posed like a doll. The lights flashed over her skin turning into faint motes that seemed to burrow down inside her.

He put both dolls on the bed, staring at the ceiling. He squeeze both doll’s boobs several times and rubbed the entry to their lower holes for a moment. Then he stopped and got up. “I’ve been out all morning. I’m going to grab a bite to eat. Maybe watch some baseball.” He left the room.

Though thoroughly revved up, neither doll cared. He’d be back and they’d get their fun before Monday. Maddy could just imagine them telling Eve about their weekend. Jen wondered when she should quit her job.

Mannequin Hair, part 2 of 6

Sara woke up extremely refreshed. She got up and showered. She took the device and her notes down to the kitchen where she made herself a huge bowl of cereal since she had not eaten the night before. Looking through the settings she was intrigued by one that read: Presentation: None, with other values of Packed, Boxed, and Wrapped. Each presentation type had additional settings included Addressed To under Packed and Christmas Paper under Wrapped. “Could I really have myself packed in a carton and shipped with the address option?” At times like this she really wished there were instructions.

When she finished her cereal she called her husband. “Paul.”

“Hi, Honey.”

“Paul, tell me you are coming home soon,” she admonished. “I’ve missed you.”

“Well, no, I think it will be another week.”

“I wish I could just put a stamp on myself and show up in your room. What was your room number again?”

“702 and I wish you could do that, too,” he sighed. “I’ve got to run. Now we have breakfast meetings too. Talk to you later.”

“Bye, Dear.”

After she hung up and cleared her dish, she got out the video camera and tripod and brought them and the headpiece to the living room. There was no mirror here but she could run the video from the camera straight to the television. Once she set this up, she set the attachment time to 10 minutes. She had learned not to set it for too long when experimenting. She closed the curtains and put on the headpiece. She had the camera above the television pointing down at her so when she was looking at the television she was also facing the camera.

“I am solid,” she thought. “I am presented with a wide red ribbon wrapped around my breasts and tied in a bow.” The ribbon felt snug against her bare breasts and the bow was neatly tied. “No presentation,” she thought. The ribbon vanished. “I guess I shouldn’t wonder where that came or went to any more than I should wonder where my head was last night.”

“I am 6 inches tall. I am made of vinyl. My hair is blond and in a pig-tail. I am wearing a purple and white checkered farm outfit. I am in a clear box with a card backing advertising me as Polly Purple.” Nothing happened, except she could now move. She took off the headpiece. She rewound the tape and there laying on the ground was the Polly Purple doll packaged in one of those blister packages with a cardboard backing. Two children were pictured playing with Polly. Looking closely she could see straps holding the doll's (her) feet down. After a few seconds the tape showed her returning to normal.

“So I am unaware when packed,” she thought. She flipped the headpiece over and scrolled through the options. She found several important ones: Aware while wrapped: Yes; Aware while boxed: No; Aware while packed: No. So that was one difference between wrapped, boxed and packed. But another set of settings were a bit more frightening: Timer runs while boxed: Yes; Timer runs while packed: No; Control while boxed: None; Control while packed: None. So since she was in a box, the timer was running. But had she been packed, she would still be laying on the floor unaware until someone opened the package. And either way, no commands would have worked. “I have to be more careful with my terminology.” She switched all of those settings to Yes.

She put the helmet on and solidified. “The next time I touch my belly button, I will become an unpackaged Polly Purple doll.” She paused then thought, “I am flesh.”

“Here goes,” she said aloud, touching her belly button. The room grew up around her. She was lying on the floor unable to move. She could feel clothing on her. “I am flesh from the waist up.” The room towered above her as she sat up. She felt the dress. It was made of the cheap kind of cloth normally found in children’s dolls. She touched her legs and the vinyl reminded her of her own childhood dolls. “I am flesh.” She walked in a circle. “I’ve got to do this when I am not experimenting with the Hair.”

She lay down on the floor. “I am a two-dimensional drawing of Polly Purple on a letter sized page of cardstock, perforated around my form for easy removal. Also on the cardstock are paper doll dresses likewise perforated for easy removal.” She felt herself flatten against the floor. Her entire back touched the floor evenly. “The cardstock is packaged in a stiff overnight mailer addressed to Paul Schofeld Room 702 c/o The Loews Regency Hotel, Park Ave., New York, NY.” The room went dark. She could feel the bubble wrap inside the mailer against her paper body.

“I am returned to normal all effects undone.” She was standing naked in front of the camera. There was no sign of a mailer. She wound the tape back and watched as the doll lay on the ground. Then a piece of paper appeared. The drawing of Polly Purple was accompanied by a farm outfit and a dress for a hoedown. Shortly, a shipping mailer appeared in its place. She could just make out the address from the weird angle.

“Perfect,” she cooed. She lowered the camera, pointing it at her feet head on. She held her left arm down by her side careful to leave a decent space between her hand and her hip. Her right arm was out to the side the elbow bent slightly downward, her hand raised in kind of a wave. Her right foot was pointed down to the ground with just her toes touching the ground. She angled her knee outward rather than forward. “I am a Polly Purple paper doll mounted on a cardstock stand.” The room grew around her. She was facing right into the camera. “A paper denim skirt hangs on my paper doll hips.” She felt the paper against her body. “A paper white blouse hangs from my paper doll shoulders.” It too appeared. “Paper sunglasses are balanced on my head.”

“I return to flesh and full-size wearing real, well-made, perfectly-sized versions of the paper clothes.” She reached up and pulled the sunglasses over her eyes. “They work,” she said. She looked down at her clothes. The blouse had some intricate eyehole inlays. The denim skirt was probably the best denim skirt she ever owned. Missing were the panties and sports bra.

She rewound the tape. A paper doll replaced her feet. The pose she picked translated well to two dimensions. The doll was drawn wearing white panties and a sport bra. As the clothes appeared she could see the paper tabs used to hold the clothes on the paper doll. And finally the doll was replaced with a shot of her feet.

“I am solid, unaware,” she thought impatiently. Oblivious of the intervening few minutes, when the attachment time ended, she took the headpiece off and started setting the wrapped settings again. When that was finished she got out some cardstock. She drew a faint outline of what her pose would be. Then drew a few paper dress sketches to match that pose on the card stock. A few hours later she was satisfied with the sketches as well as the instructions she had written. She tried a few more experiments with the Hair then she got dressed and headed out the door.

She arrived at the express delivery store just before 10 am. She put on the headpiece, activated it and turned it to normal hair. Then, gathering her stuff she locked the car and walked into the store. Thankfully she was the only customer.

“Can I help you?” the man behind the desk asked.

“Yes, can I send these papers same day?”

The man looked at the clock. “You have just a few minutes before the pickup.”

“Great, here’s my credit card and the information.” He copied down the address onto the label. She held her hand in the mailer and as he finished the transaction. She blurted out, “Oh, I also have some photocopies I need to do. Did I just hear the delivery truck out back.”

As he turned around, she quickly thought, “Activate mail fantasy with the result where my right hand is, sealing the package behind me.”

“No, I didn’t hear anything,” said the now confused man as he turned back around to an empty desk. There was no sign of the woman. But her same day envelope was sitting where he had last seen it. She must have sealed it before running out to get her papers that needed photocopying. He waited a few minutes for her to come back but when the pick up truck arrived he tossed the same day envelope into the bin with the other special handling packages. “I guess something else came up,” he thought when she did not return.

Paul returned to his hotel after negotiations that ran through dinner. He could not wait to get back to the room and relax. As he entered the hotel the concierge called him over. “Mr. Schofeld, you received an express envelope today.”

Paul took the envelope. The return label was from his office so he hurried to the elevator and his room. He pulled the papers from the envelope as he closed the door to the room. At first he thought it was a joke because he did not recognize the drawings. But then he read the top card. “Honey, I wish I could be there with you so I sent you a Sara doll to keep you company. You can dress her for a night out or a night in. But please punch out the pieces and dress her so she does not get cold. Love, Sara.”

The drawing of Sara the doll was an uncanny resemblance to his wife. She was standing with her left hand on her hip. Her body was bent toward that hip with her head cocked the other way. Her right arm pointed toward him. She was not wearing any clothes, but did have on a pair of low black pumps. To the right, with the word “OUT” written below it was a green sleeveless dress with a black belt and gold circular buckle. A purse was attached to the hip which when set correctly made it look like she was holding the purse. Next to that was a darker green half-jacket which covered her extended arm repositioning it touching her neck, fingering a nice pearl necklace. On the left, with the word “IN” written below it was a red and white lacy teddy with garters and white hosiery ending in tall, red stilettos. Next to that was a white shawl, which when set correctly placed a silver dildo in her hand.

She became aware when the envelope opened. Light entered the darkened space and soon she found herself laying face up on a table. She could see Paul reading the page she was on. She saw him smile and then get up and walk away.

Paul called home and when Sara did not answer he left this message, “Hi, Honey. That’s a cute present. I’m going to go shower and see whether I’m up for going out or staying in. Call me back, bye.” He went into the other room to disrobe and take a shower.

Sara lay on the table. She had disabled her control until she returned to flesh wearing whichever outfit he had chosen. She was feeling impatient now and while part of her was glad she could not jump the gun that did not quell her desire to leap off the page and run into the shower with her husband.

Paul returned shortly wearing just the complementary bathrobe. He flipped through the papers. There were other outfits but they did not match the pose of the paper doll. He went back to the first page and poked out the two outfits. He laid them both on the doll trying to decide which one looked better.

“It’s easier to decide when the doll is separated from the paper, Paul,” she wanted to shout.

Finally he picked one. He punched out the doll and the little semi-circular stand and stood the doll up. Then he put the dress and jacket on the doll. “That’s cute but I still feel silly,” he said aloud.

“Return to flesh three feet to my right dressed as specified before,” she thought. As she appeared, she said, “Well, prepare to be shocked.”

He was. His wife was standing in the hotel room wearing a replica of the green dress he was just playing with. And the paper doll was missing. “What in the Hell?” he exclaimed. “How? When? That dress?”

She bent down to kiss him and said, “It’s a long story, Dear. I’ll tell it to you while we are out. I’m starved. They don’t feed you on express delivery airplane trips.”

It took forever for Paul to get dressed. Each new twist to Sara’s saga made him stop and ask her to explain some detail she glossed over.

Over dinner, he interrupted, “So you’re wearing it now. That’s not your hair.”

“Yes, I’m wearing it now. Without it, the dress doesn’t exist.”

“So you could become a mannequin, right now?”

She put her hand down on the table, “Cover my hand.” As he did so, she thought, “My right hand is solid until he picks up his hand.” She whispered, “Don’t pick up your hand until you’ve felt my hand.”

He moved his hand against hers. It was cool and solid to the touch. He leaned forward and saw how smooth and unblemished it was. He moved his hand to get a better look but as he did it returned to flesh.

“I’m just stunned by all this,” he said shaking his head. “I was in this novelty shop when I saw the picture on the box. Somehow I just knew you had to have it. But I did not expect anything like this.”

By the time they returned to the hotel, she was nearly finished explaining how she had mailed herself to him. “So I was unaware of the passage of time while in the envelope. And the attachment timer was not running. Although that does not really matter as I set that time to 72 hours. I had no idea when it would be safe to turn off the Hair while I was out and about.”

“So you never checked out the CDROM?”

“No, I figured there would be time some other time,” she said. “Now how about I slip into something more erotic?”

MANIP - No Prep

Where do these spell books come from? And where do I find an Amy for myself? Sigh. Comments are welcome, of course.

Transcript

Amy

A few moments ago, I came up to the loft to check out this spell book I just got. The spell I just cast turned me into a mannequin so fast I had no time to react. I wonder how long I'll be a mannequin this time.

I says here it lasts until the reverse spell is cast. Good thing the reverse spell is on the right facing page.

Ironically, mannequin can't turn their own heads so I can't read it.

Guess I'm stuck again.

Tom

"Amy? Are you home? I can smell incense."

I'll probably find a mannequin holding a spell book again.

Amy

"I'm upstairs." I'd call out if I could speak. Probably need to be able to speak to cast the  reverse spell, too.

Oops, again.

When he does find me like this, Tom will end up waiting several weeks before even considering casting the reverse spell. Not that I mind. I just don't know why I never remember to prepare properly so as to avoid ending up in situations like this. When will I learn? It's as if I want to be stuck as a mannequin for years. I mean weeks.

Park Hookup

It had been an ordinary day up to this point. I was on my lunch break eating a sandwich at a park picnic table. I wouldn’t call the area I was in secluded. You could faintly hear the busy street less than a hundred yards away. To see the street, you would have to crane your neck and look through a bunch of bushes and trees to see it. I usually chose this bench because it was furthest away from the row of restaurants not far from the park entrance. Most people who ate lunch in the park would find somewhere closer to the middle of the park to eat.

As I ate, a rather young woman jogged up to me. She had dark loosely curled hair and bright blue eyes. She was fit and lightly tanned. She wasn’t dressed for jogging, not even close. She wore a tube top that did nothing to restrain her breasts from rebounding up and down as she moved. And one doesn’t usually go jogging in a short skirt, I would guess. Having never worn a skirt, I could be wrong. But, I was sure I had never seen a woman jogging in a miniskirt before. She was wearing sneakers at least.

I couldn’t help but watch her as she approached on the path that ran past the table. She stopped a few feet from me and put a foot on the bench attached to the table on the opposite side of the table. She leaned over to retie her sneaker. As the tube top did nothing to hold her breasts in place, I got a good view of them. She saw my eyes looking down her cleavage and said, “You wanna fuck?”

“Excuse me?”

“Right here. I’ll bend over the table. You flip my skirt up and do me. Decide right now. Are you in or out?”

I looked around to see if I was being punked. I looked at her and she seemed dead serious. She finished tying her shoe and stood up. As she did, she lifted the front of skirt to show me she wasn’t wearing underwear. She seemed disappointed as she let go of her skirt hem.

“Suit yourself,” she said.

“Wait,” I said. “Do you frequently proposition people like this in the park?”

“You are my first. And I didn’t say anything about us discussing the idea. I have to get back to work in twenty minutes or so. I can’t spend time yammering. Are you in or out?”

“In.”

“Great.” She moved to the end of the table and spread her legs wide as she leaned over it. She held the sides of the table with her hands and then stared at me. “Get up. Let’s go. I don’t have all day.”

I got up and looked around again before getting behind her and dropping my pants. I lifted up her skirt. She was obviously wet and a mixed scent of sex and sweat reached my nose along with a hint of strawberry. My cock was stiffening but it wasn’t quite ready. I rubbed it against her pussy.

“Let’s go,” she insisted.

“I’m getting there.”

“You aren’t hard already?”

“I’m getting there.”

I pushed the tip into her and that seemed to get me to start firming up.

“I hope you’ve got more than that.”

“I said I’m getting there.”

She laughed. “I can’t believe a beautiful woman jogs up to you and says, ‘Let’s fuck,’ and you aren’t rigid.”

“Maybe I’m having trouble believing you’re for real.”

“Oh, I’m real. Are you going to push in any further? Can you?”

I thrust forward and she let out a startled yelp.

“That’s better. Move it. I only have about ten more minutes.”

“Are you going to enjoy it if it’s only ten minutes?”

“You worry about fucking me. I’ll worry about getting off on it.”

I fucked her. It was only sexy because we could easily get caught. Other than that, it was just fucking. In, out, in, out. I wasn’t sure how long it took but soon I said, “Come inside?”

“Of course.”

Her fingers clamped hard onto the table and she arched her back just as I was ready to cum. I filled her up and then some. I could feel her inner muscles squeezing my dick. I guess she got off. I pulled out and watched as it oozed out of her and down her left leg. She stood up and ran a finger along the inside of her thigh, scooping some of it up. She put it in her mouth and made an “Mmm” sound. There was a trace of blood on her lips as she had apparently bit her lip to keep quiet.

“See you around,” she said. She straightened her skirt. “You should pick up your pants before you get arrested,” she added as she departed.

I bent down and picked up my pants. As I stood to fasten them, she was already a good distance away, jogging as if she hadn’t just been fucked.

* * *

While I continued to eat lunch at the same park table as I usually did, it wasn’t until the following Monday that I was greeted by the sight of the same woman jogging toward my table again. She was better dressed for jogging this time. She was definitely wearing a sports bra, today. She stopped at the table and continued to jog in place as she said, “Are you in or out?”

“In.”

She assumed the position and we repeated what we had done the week before. There wasn’t as much talking this time. I knew my role and was able to get there much faster this time. When we were done, she said, “See you around,” and jogged away.

I showered as soon as I got home that evening. While eating dinner I noticed the last app accessed by my phone was my contacts list. I went through it and found an entry I did not recognize: Park Hookup. She had entered her number into my phone while I had been otherwise occupied. Should I call? No, I texted instead. “Nice seeing you today in the park.”

There was no response. I decided to play it cool and not bombard her with more texts. She apparently enjoyed controlling when we were together.

On Thursday, I received a text around eleven in the morning: “Jogging today. 12:30.” I made sure to be at the table before hand and she appeared on the path, coming around a bend almost exactly on time. As she reached the table she was about to lean over the table when she sat down on the opposite bench.

“What’s up?” I said.

She indicated the path in the other direction with her finger and I saw a young woman pushing a stroller slowly along the path. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m the manager of accounts receivable for a mid-sized manufacturing company,” I said.

“Sounds boring.”

“It’s worse than it sounds. But, it pays decently and it’s easy to leave work at work at the end of the day. You?”

“I work at a medical care facility. She’s almost passed us.”

“Doctor? Nurse?”

“Administration.”

“What’s your name?”

“Are we on first names?”

“I think names usually come before the third fucking.”

“I always get that confused. Kate.” She held out her hand.

“Trevor,” I said, shaking her hand. “What are you doing Saturday night, Kate?”

“We aren’t dating.”

“We could be. Or we could have one date. Have you eaten at Bellesco’s?”

“That’s a fancy restaurant. Why there?”

“I’d like to see you more dressed up. And it shows I’m serious.”

She got up as she was nodding. “Let’s go. Are you in or out?”

“In, of course.” I looked around and the woman with the stroller was out of sight.

As I pushed into her, she said, “What time Saturday?”

“I’ll get a reservation for eight. If it falls through, I’ll text you different plans.”

“That feels good, I mean, sounds good.”

A few moments passed and we both came. Before standing up she said, “Can you do something?”

“What?” I said, unsure if I should pull my pants up.

“Smack my ass?”

“Spank you?”

“Twice on each cheek.”

“Someone might hear that.”

She shrugged and gave me a mischievous smile.

I pulled my pants up and rubbed my hand on her ass.

“I don’t have all…”

Smack. I knew she would say something about being in a hurry. She let out the cutest cooing noise. I smacked the other cheek.

“Maybe three each,” she said.

I gave her a couple more spanks on each cheek and said, “That’s it. You’re red and at this point I think denying it is more punishing.”

“But I was bad,” she said. She really played up being reluctant to stand up and pulled her jogging shorts up. “Fine.” She gave me a peck on the cheek and said, “See you Saturday. Meet you there at eight.”

I made the reservations and they had an opening. I sent her a confirmation text and received back an image. It was an upskirt photo of herself with presumably my cum rolling down her thigh. A hint of red cheek peaked out from under her skirt. In the background there was mostly sky with some trees along the edges.

* * *

Friday night, I was out with some friends at our favorite bar as usual. Someone mentioned I hadn’t been seeing anyone for awhile and I said I had a date the following night. It only took two seconds to tell them everything I knew about Kate that could be said in polite company. “We’re going to Bellesco’s tomorrow night.”

“Oh, so this is serious?” Maddy said. She was Jake’s girlfriend.

“Don’t know.”

“You met her in the park? What did you say to her that she’s going with you to Bellesco’s two weeks later?” Annie said. She was married to Henri.

“She tied her shoe at the bench I was sitting at and we just started talking.”

“Is she hot?” Timothy said. He had no girlfriend. I preferred to think the reasons he had no girlfriend were not the same reasons I hadn’t had one for the past several months.

“She’s attractive.”

“Pics or it never happened,” Sal said.

“I don’t have a pic with her yet. We’ve only met a few times in the park at lunchtime so far.”

“Tomorrow’s a real first date?” Annie said. “Do you know what you’re going to wear?”

“Yes, tomorrow is the first real date and I’m sure there’s something appropriate in my closet. I’ve been to nice restaurants before.”

“He’ll be fine,” Maddy said. “He’s not Timothy.”

Timothy took mock offense to that and the conversation drifted away from my date the next evening.

* * *

I had no idea what to wear. I didn’t want to be too flashy and I also didn’t want to be monochrome. I eventually settled on dark blue slacks with a white dress shirt. I had a tan sports coat that went with the brown belt and shoes. I decided not to wear a tie. I put a bright blue handkerchief in the breast pocket of the jacket.

Showered, shaved, and dressed I drove to the restaurant arriving thirty minutes early. I sat at the bar to wait for her, nursing a beer and checking the time every other minute. Just before eight she arrived. I’m fairly sure I wasn’t the only one who noticed her. Her hair was poofier and not tied back in a ponytail. She may have had it lightened between now and when I saw her last. Or it may have just been the lighting. This was the first time I was seeing her indoors. The makeup around her eyes make their blue color stand out even more. She wore the wettest, reddest lip gloss on the planet.

It complemented her dress. It was also red, nearly ankle length, with a slit running up from the floor to her waist on both sides. She could not be wearing underwear. The neckline plunged so far her bellybutton and its jeweled, gold stud were visible. She wore a black choker. Her stiletto heels were black, at least five inches high, and they laced up to the top of her calves. She held a black clutch.

I got up and walked toward her. “You look magnificent.”

“You clean up nice yourself.”

“Is this your companion?” The Maitre’D asked.

“Yes. Is our table ready?”

“Right this way.” He led us to a two person booth along the wall near the kitchen.

I let her decide which way she wanted to face. She chose to face the kitchen door so I took the other side.

The Maitre’D handed us menus and stepped away as our server arrived. “Hello, I’m Giuseppe and I’ll be your server,” he said with a light accent. He took our drink orders and left.

As I looked at the menu, I felt some nylon-covered toes rubbing my crotch. I looked up but she wasn’t looking at me, her eyes intent on the menu apparently. I reached down and gently, but firmly grasped her ankle. Slowly, with my other hand, I ran my fingertips on the stockings covering the arch of her foot.

“Stop that,” she hissed and tried pull her leg back.

I was pointedly looking at a painting on the wall. “Did you say something?” My finger ran along the spot between the ball of her foot and her toes.

She bit the menu to avoid giggling loudly.

“Someone is ticklish. Good to know.” I said, releasing her foot.

She caught her breath and after a moment was looking at the menu again. “I was just being playful.”

“So was I.”

“I will get my revenge.”

“Noted,” I said. “How about we talk about something normal? How long have you lived around here?”

“Over a decade, I think.”

* * *

We were both laughing about a story I was telling her about my brother when our waiter brought the check and a portable payment device. “I see you’re having a good time. I hope the food was as memorable as your experiences tonight.”

“It most certainly was, Guiseppe,” I said. I scanned my card and left a generous tip.

“Have a good evening, Ma’am, Sir.”

“We’ve been occupying this table for two hours. We should leave.”

She looked up from her phone. “I called a car.”

“I can give you a ride.”

“I want this date to feel normal. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Normal is good,” I said. I wasn’t sure how any of this was normal.

She got up from the booth and we went to the lobby.

“I can’t invite you back to my place. My roommate is an asshole.”

“That’s the first time you mentioned a roommate.”

“I don’t like talking about him.”

“Him?”

“Long story.”

She obviously didn’t want to talk about it so I didn’t press. “It sounds like you won’t go back to my place. So, I’ll treat this like a normal first date and won’t ask.”

“Thanks.” Her phone buzzed. She looked at it and then out the door of the restaurant. “I think that’s my car.” We stepped outside and she hugged me. “Good night.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel about this as she got in the car and it drove off.

* * *

Given how the date ended, I didn’t send her a message afterward. I figured she would contact me. And on Wednesday morning, she did. I received a text from her, “12:30, the usual?”

I sent back, “In.”

Right on time, she jogged into the clearing where I had my lunch. She was actually well dressed for jogging. There were other differences as well. She was wearing a necklace and a bracelet. They were new. And her fingernails were a bright red. I didn’t remember them being colored at all before. She put her hands on the tables and said, “In or out?”

“In,” I replied and we fucked. She waited, leaned over the table after I had pulled my pants up. Apparently the usual now included the spanking.

After a handful spanks per cheek I stopped and she pulled her pants up without protest. “Saturday night? Date number two? I’m buying.”

“Where and when?”

“I’ll text the details. I need to see about a reservation first.”

“Okay.”

She jogged off.

* * *

Friday night, I met up with my friends at our usual hangout. They immediately wanted to know about my date the week before.

“Did she put out?” Timothy said.

“What kind of question is that?” Jake said.

“A Timothy question,” Sal said. I could tell he would have asked the same question, probably less bluntly.

“No, and I didn’t expect anything of that nature to happen,” I said.

“It was just a first date, Tim,” Annie said.

“How was the food? I’ve always wanted to go there,” Henri said.

“It was great. The plates weren’t too big so you don’t feel funny eating the whole thing and you won’t have leftovers.”

“You would take leftovers home on a date?” Sal said.

“No. Don’t be stupid.”

“Seeing her again?” Maddy said.

“Tomorrow. She’s buying.”

“She really likes you,” Henri said.

“I get that impression.”

“And you?” Timothy said.

“I enjoy talking to her. I’m not sure if she’s looking for a commitment or just a good time.”

“Is that a problem?” Annie said.

“Not so far.”

“What do you want?” Maddy said.

“Yeah, I have no idea if you’re a commitment kind of guy,” Sal said.

“Like you?”

“I’m, what, fifteen years older than you. I’ve reached an age where anything long term probably also means there’s a teenage kid or two who’s already been burned by an attempt at a blended family. I’m not going near commitment for another ten years when those kids are you and Tim looking for a first marriage.”

“You’re in your forties?” Timothy said.

“I am.”

“You look good.”

“I’m not interested.”

“We all know Sal is only looking for good times. Back to Trevor,” Annie said.

“I tried to pull the conversation off you, Trev.”

“Thanks, Sal. I am not against a committed relationship. I’ve had one date with Kate. It’s a bit early to pick out his and hers bath towels.”

“People still do that?”

* * *

Sunday morning, Timothy and I were jogging through the park. The weather had warmed up and Kate’s jogging reminded me Tim and I use to jog. He was happy to revive our Sunday jogs. Kate was the first topic on his mind. “You’re telling me this chick fucked you a bunch of times in this very park but you go on, counting last night, two normal dates and she goes home without you.”

“Yeah.”

“What do you say to her on these date that turns her pussy to ice?”

“I don’t think it’s that. Take the path on the right.”

“Then what is it?”

“When we hookup in the park, we don’t really talk except that one time someone was strolling by. It’s just a transaction. No strings. Dating usually involves strings. That’s the bench.”

We jogged up to the picnic table where I usually ate lunch. I sat down. Tim remained standing.

“I was hoping we’d run into her doing someone else,” he said.

“Of course you were. Sit down.”

“Is there a safe seat?”

I pointed to the other end of the table and Tim cautiously sat.

“I’m sure she and I aren’t the only people who’ve fucked on this picnic table, Dude.”

“I don’t know if I can go out in public ever again.”

“Yes, you will.”

“Did you setup a third date last night?”

“I said we should do something during the week. Tuesday, we’re going to see a movie.”

“If she likes to avoid talking, that might have been a mistake.”

“Yeah, maybe. We’ll see.”

* * *

Over the next couple weeks, a pattern emerged. I would spend Fridays at the bar solo with my friends. They were beginning to wonder why Kate wouldn’t come to the bar with me. Timothy and I were jogging every Sunday morning. With Kate, we’d hookup in the park at lunch on Wednesday or Thursday, go to a movie Monday or Tuesday, and on Saturdays, the dates began to start earlier and earlier.

Today was Sunday. The day before, we had spent almost ten hours together. Finally, she agreed to go to my place. That was the first time the sex had been slow and deliberate. She did not stay the night. But it felt like progress. After our jog, Timothy suggested I come to his place after for a beer.

“We shouldn’t really follow a work out with beer, Tim.”

“Whatever.”

As we entered his building, Kate was walking out.

“Fancy seeing you today?” I said.

She looked at Timothy. “Yeah. I’ve seen this guy around. You two are friends?”

“He’s Timothy.”

“Nice to meet you,” Tim said awkwardly as he shook her hand.

“He seems wholesome.”

I laughed. “If you say so. Where’re you going?”

“Shopping. Wanna come?”

“Do you mind, Tim?”

“No. I’m just happy to find out Kate isn’t some AI girlfriend you’ve been showing up pics of. Have fun.”

We spent the day together. I had a good time. We returned to her building afterward but she still didn’t want to invite me up. Not a problem. An hour after I got home I received a phone call from Timothy.

“What’s up?”

“You might want to sit down.”

I heard a woman’s voice in the background say, “You’re really going to tell him?”

“What’s going on?”

“I don’t know how to tell you this. And I’m being told to mind my own business. But I can’t.”

“What?”

“You’ve known Kate longer than you think.”

“What?”

“Her male roommate who’s an asshole and she doesn’t want you to meet?”

“You’ve seen him? Sure you have. You both live in the same building.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen him. He’s me.”

“You? You live with Sal.”

Timothy didn’t say anything.

“You live with Sal.”

The obvious conclusion refused to click.

“I’ve got to go,” Timothy said. He hung up.

* * *

I had wanted to blow up her phone. Or Tim’s phone. Or Sal’s phone. I didn’t.

Monday, I received a hookup text for 12:30. I don’t know why I went to the park. When I got to the clearing, Kate was sitting at the bench facing away from the path. She was giving me a choice. I could walk up to her or I could walk away and she would have no idea if I had shown up at all. I probably stood there for five minutes unsure what to do.

I walked up and sat down on the bench.

She turned to look at me. Her lips trembled and I thought she was about to burst into tears. Her voice quavered as she said, “Hi, Trevor.”

“Hello.”

“Can you give me like five minutes uninterrupted?”

I said nothing.

“You’ve known the other me for almost a decade. You know I don’t do irrational things.

“I didn’t do all this for you at all. I wanted a change. In fact, it had nothing to do with you. I spent a lot of money to get one of those nanite injections. I don’t know if you know how it works. If you’re just making a change, you go to the offices and pick out a look, each one is unique and they give you the injection. They give you a six-pack of energy drinks. Literal energy drinks. The drinks wake the nanites and the nanites transform you into whatever you could afford to buy. The drinks last about a day and you get to test run the new you. If you are satisfied, you buy the nail polish, she showed him her fingernails. As long as the polish is freshly applied, you remain changed.

“I’ve been putting this polish on and taking it off depending on the day the last couple weeks. Ultimately, once you’ve decided never to go back, they give you a tattoo and the nanites are locked in.

“I swore Timothy to silence about this. But I never told him I was your Kate. He’s been calling me Sally. Please, don’t blame him for not telling you sooner. My heart died when I saw you and him yesterday. He didn’t say anything before I dragged you out shopping. But last night, he demanded I tell you. When I said… when I said I didn’t want to risk losing you, he flipped out. And then he called you.

“But I’m getting ahead of myself,” she said, pausing to wipe a tear from under her eye. “You probably want to know why and why you. It was totally random. The day you met the weird woman who fucks random men in the park was the first day I drank one of the energy drinks. It was literally the first time I looked like this.

“As I said. I didn’t do this for you. I had no clue you were in the park. After the changes finished I was pumped up. Sal is a frumpy middle-aged man, already in his decline. His knees hurt all the time. He gets back aches and his feet get sore easily.

“Suddenly, I felt good. Great. Fucking fantastic even. I dashed out of the apartment and went for a jog. It had been years since I’d been able to run. And when I came around the corner and saw you sitting there eating lunch. Well, I just had to prank you. And how better to prank you than to ask you to fuck a random woman in public.

“I swear. I didn’t think you would say yes. I would have bet hundreds of dollars you’d say ‘out’. But you didn’t. Remember I was feeling fucking fantastic. I bent over and I gave you shit about not being rock hard in my presence. It was hilarious. And then you shoved it deep into my virgin vag.

“I had been wrong about feeling great. At that moment, I felt fucking fantastic. After I jogged away it dawned on me what I had just done. When I turned back to Sal I didn’t want to do again. Six figures in cash wasted on one fucking fantastic jog and one fucking fantastic fuck.

“The second time we met, I knew you’d continue to eat in the same spot, I was so nervous. And you just jumped up and fucked me. I should have told you then. I managed to get my burner phone into your contacts. I was amazed you didn’t blow up my phone. Instead, you wanted a real date.

“I just wanted a body that didn’t ache and I spent a fortune to get it. And payment for my deal with the devil was lying to my friend. God. I’m so glad now Timothy, of all people, forced the issue. I don’t know what you’re thinking. I don’t know if I want to know. But, whatever you want to do going forward is fine. I made my bed. I hope you’ll lie in it with me.”

That was a lot to process. Sal was not a liar. Was Sal into spanking? I chased that thought away. She was so tense. I could tell it was killing her to wait for me to respond. And then it dawned on me, if I could tell how she was feeling, my own feelings must not be in flux. I was good. I laughed.

She wasn’t reassured and that made me laugh harder.

I reached forward and she leaned toward me. I cupped her head in my hands and pulled her closer. I closed my eyes and kissed her. Her entire body shuddered in relief and she kissed back. She was pushing me back as we kissed like she was trying to climb into my mouth. I leaned back and opened my eyes. She was on the tabletop, her legs straight out behind her. She was going to fall into my lap if I let her.

I pulled her sideways and she rolled off the table onto my lap. “Someone is a very naughty girl,” I said. And I gave her ass a sharp smack.

“I’m so sorry, sir. May I have another?”

I only managed to spank her a couple times before I was laughing again.

She sat up and leaned against me sitting. “What is so funny?”

“I really don’t know. The universe,” I said, catching my breath. “You wanted to be young. Why be a woman?”

“It was cheaper to be an above average looking woman than to be a good looking man. To be as great looking guy as I’d have wanted was pricier than this body. And since I hadn’t really slept with a woman in a while, I could continue to go without using a dick for long time. Besides, I found out that it’s better to receive.”

“Now you sound like Timothy.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“Why Kate?”

“You caught me off guard,” she laughed. “It was totally random in that moment.”

“You hadn’t picked a name?”

“I know. It’s stupid. As I said, Tim was calling me Sally but I didn’t like that name. I figured I’d try a few out before settling on one.

“I hope you actually like the name Kate.”

“When you say it, it sounds great.”

“Aw. And the spanking and probably exhibitionism?”

“Having traits like that actually lowered the price.”

“That’s sketchy.”

“I’ve come to accept the people who run the nanite injections company are a bunch perverts,” she said with a laugh. “I didn’t see the downside to having those traits, among others you haven’t discovered. You’ve probably known women who need an hour to think about having an orgasm. Who needs that? With the two traits you’re aware of, I’ll never have that problem.”

“Well, I can’t wait to tie you down and tickle your feet properly.”

“Oh, fuck, don’t say things like that unless you mean it. Also, try to work on your domination.”

“I suppose I should buy some nice long feathers,” I said. It had the expected effect on her. “Look at you squirm.”

“You’re a meanie.”

We laughed. I tried to seem serious. “Friday. Are my friends finally going to meet the girlfriend who’s been avoiding them?”

“Yes. But the week after, our friends are going to learn the truth. I figure we need them to meet me without knowing I’m Sal for at least one week.”

“That’s fair. How will Tim feel about that?”

“He won’t say anything. He’ll be happy you know.”

“I am disappointed in one thing.”

“You are? What can I do about it?”

“When you were pouring your heart out to me, you missed a golden opportunity.”

“I did?”

“At the end, you should have said something like, ‘I hope you’ll accept me for who am I. I only ask, are you in... or out?’”

“Oh.“

I glanced at the end of the table.

“Oh!” She said. She scrambled off the bench. She leaned over the table and looked at me lustfully. “I’m in.”

So was I.

Ted's Dolls Cast of Characters

So, in response to recent patron comments about the Ted's Dolls series, I have created three PDFs. It is a list of all the characters in the stories (who have more than a handful of lines of dialog) with a short description of what they do in the stories.

Why three PDFs? Spoilers. The Season 1 PDF only spoils events from season 1 (episodes 1-13 and the first 2 interludes). The Season 2 PDF only spoils events from seasons 1 and 2 (episodes 1-26 and the first 4 interludes). And so on.

I'm hoping some of you can give these a read (don't spoil yourself, of course, if you aren't up to date), and tell me how to improve these PDFs or tell me they are too verbose or if any of the statements herein are incorrect. Anything. Once I feel good about the content, I'll attach these PDFs to the Ted's Doll Index page.

Thanks for you help in advance.

Mannequin Hair, part 1 of 6

Returning home after dark, Sara nearly stumbled over the package on her porch. She cursed at her husband again in absentia for not replacing the bulb in the porch light as she picked the package up. It was a cube shaped package a little over a foot long on each side. Fumbling with her keys in the dark, she opened the door and went inside.

She put down the other mail and her bag and brought the package into the living room hitting the answering machine as she passed it. It beeped.

“Hi, Honey,” her husband’s voice sing-songed. “I know you were expecting to see my smiling face tonight but the negotiations are bogged down again. I’ll be here another 2 to 3 days at least. The package I sent a couple days ago will hopefully make up for my delay. I miss you deeply. Love ya.”

The return label was scratched beyond recognition but now she knew who had sent the package. The answering machine beeped again and intoned, “No more messages.”

Inside was a glossy box not much smaller than the outer box. On the front was a picture of a mannequin's head whose most prominent feature was the hard plastic hair often featured at the edgier boutiques. Tall letters across the top proclaimed that the box contained Magical Mannequin Hair. Various marketing slogans adorned the sides of the picture: "Magical Mannequin Hair will bring out the mannequin in you." "You'll want to be as solid as your Magical Mannequin Hair." "Now your Magical Mannequin Hair will hold still longer than you." "Strike a pose with Magical Mannequin Hair and you won't want to stop." Not all of them made sense but the idea intrigued her. Looking again at the mannequin's face on the box she now noticed the signs that it was a living mannequin that had eluded her the first time.

She could not decide. Did her husband mean to help her in her work? Sara worked as a living mannequin and anything that helped her with the illusion of being inanimate meant better paying work. She was tired now after an eight hour stint in an upscale boutique in the mall. What she did not like about working mall boutiques was they stayed open until 10pm and that meant she got home around 11pm. Maybe this would get her into a store with a street facing window, which would close at 6 or 7pm for the same pay.

Or did he buy it to help him with his mannequin fantasies? He was always taking pictures of her when she was working.

Turning the box around she saw there were several hairstyles. This box seemed to contain a dark brown, short flip with tussled front, the sides angling outward from above and below. Lighter shades of brown and gold highlighted the color. Opening the box, she found a form fitting plastic piece of hair. The highlights enhanced the plastic fakeness of the hairdo.

It was hard and smooth to the touch and tugging on the sides showed it was slightly flexible in that direction. She tentatively pulled it over her head but there were strange protrusions that made the back uncomfortable. She took it off.

Flipping the piece over, there were obvious pockets on the sides to cover the ears. There was a clip mounted in a recess along the top, which she supposed she would clip her natural hair to. Mounted in the back was a small digital readout with some recessed buttons, the kind that would require a pen or fingernail to push. The readout was blank. Next to it was a long stub poking out with a piece of paper attached to it saying, set up clock before use.

She pressed one of the buttons and the display flashed 12:00. She eventually found buttons that took her to a time setting menu and set the current time. Next it showed her a field called attachment time that was set to 5 hours. Not knowing if that was good or bad she skipped it and just accepted the defaults on the next few settings. The display now displayed the current time. So she figured she had finished the setup. The plastic stub was simple to remove.

She got up and went into her bedroom and stood in front of her full-length mirror. She took out the clip. It was on a pull string. She clipped her hair into it and let go. The string pulled her hair toward the top of the hairpiece. Maneuvering the headpiece down over her ears with her hair pulled into it was simple. It seemed to suction into place. It was surprisingly lightweight. Looking in the mirror it was positioned perfectly for her face.

Squaring up with the mirror she affected a serious, hopefully edgy expression. Her palms were floating an inch away from her hips pointed straight down, her elbows jutting outward. Her fingers were separated and pointed down. Her legs were shoulder width apart. Thinking about the box, she straightened her shoulders. Then in one sudden motion she popped her right shoulder forward so as to strike the pose.

The next thing she knew light was glowing dimly in the window and birds were chirping outside. She looked over at her clock and it read 4:47. Five hours had passed. She reached up and took off the headpiece. Inside the display read 4:47. She clicked through the list of settings and one she had ignored before caught her eye. It said, Awareness: off. She switched it to ‘on’ and changed the attachment time to 10 minutes. Cautiously she lowered the headpiece onto her head. She posed herself like before but nothing seemed to happen. Then she remembered she had to strike the pose. So she popped her shoulder forward again and suddenly she felt a weird sensation throughout her body. In the mirror, her body changed. Her skin became unblemished. Her face became flatter, with no lines. It was also shallower in depth. Her limbs seemed slimmer and her breasts had definitely lost a cup size. She looked completely like a mannequin suitable for an edgy, upscale boutique.

Taking in all the changes distracted her from the fact that she was immobilized. She could not move. While this should have frightened her, she was wondering if she really felt like a mannequin. When the ten minutes passed she felt a strange sensation throughout her body again and she was once again able to move. Her body returning to its normal size and condition.

She removed the headpiece and again ran through the settings. She found one that read, Solidity: Full. Pushing the up and down arrows she saw the choices were None, Full, and Controlled. She switched it to Controlled. She resisted the urge to modify more than one parameter so she could understand what each one did. Once again she stood before the mirror with the headpiece on. This time she decided to change the pose. She placed one foot in front of the other. She bent her right elbow downward with her palm up at around shoulder height. Her other arm was pulled back. She was facing the mirror looking at it across her open palm. She struck the pose.

Again she looked like a mannequin and could not move. She thought, “I can move.” But nothing happened. “I will my body mobile.” Again, no effect. Then she remembered what the setting was called. “I am not solid.” She turned back to flesh and was able to move. She touched her body and it felt like it normally felt. This was not what she expected. “I am solid.” She froze in place again. She unfroze herself and tried to take off the headpiece but it seemed bonded to her head. “I guess I have to wait for the ten minutes to end.”

She switched herself back and forth between solid plastic and flesh a few times when a thought struck her. “My left arm is solid.” Her arm transformed. “Oh, my god,” she exhaled. She touched her arm. It was hard as plastic and cool to the touch. “My arm is flesh,” she thought and it returned to normal. “My head is solid,” she thought. She felt her face freeze. She looked into the mirror. The face looking back at her was like her own but with several differences. Her eyes had flattened, seeming painted on. Her nostrils stopped a quarter inch into her nose. Her lips were painted to seem wrinkled like lips are but touching them, they were smooth. There was no separation between her head and the headpiece, as if they were formed from a single mold.

Without warning her face returned to normal. The timer ended. She removed the headpiece and again looked at the settings. The next setting was Size: Lithe. The choices were: Child, Junior, Adult, Lithe, Plus-size, Spindled, Obese and Controlled. The next setting was Shape: Full. Its choices included Full, Headless Full, Hosiery, Torso, Headless Torso, Bust, Headless Bust, Head and Controlled.

At this point her head was swimming with the possibilities and she went into the office to start writing all these choices down. As she wrote down each setting name and its choices, she selected the Controlled setting for it even though she was not sure what it did.

When she reached the Control setting. It was set to By Will. Other settings included None, By Remote and Both. She left it at By Will. There was no remote in the box but there was a computer disk. She didn’t want to know what it was for just yet and returned to getting all the settings. Right after the Control setting was a yes/no setting, "Set all settings to Controlled." That would have simplified things if she had seen it sooner. She answered yes. She had over twenty settings written down when she came to a setting called advanced. At this point she stopped so she could just do the basics.

She realized she had not seen herself fully transformed so she removed her clothes. Rather than striking a pose, she just thought, “I am solid adult.” This time her limbs did not shrink in girth. She looked just like herself albeit made of plastic. Her breasts became less round, sticking out of her chest rather than hanging off of it. In keeping with the rest of the blemish free look, the breasts had no nipples or areola. Her crotch was also featureless: dimpled but ultimately flat, like a doll. “Switch Shape to Torso,” she thought. Her arms and legs disappeared. A stand made of black metal piping held her from falling. “That’s how an underwear mannequin usually looks. Control top underwear was usually displayed on partial mannequins like this. Although, they are usually headless,” she thought. “I am flesh.” Although, made flesh again, she remained in the metal stand, the stubbed ends of her arms and legs were still mannequin solid. With a swell of daring she continued, “Switch Body to Headless Full.” She couldn’t see or hear anything but felt her feet touching the ground. She reached her arm up to where her head should be but all she found was her shoulders tapering up her neck to where it stopped. Hard plastic covered over the top of the neck. Her head just was not there.

“Switch Body to Full,” she wished. Her head suddenly appeared, her fingers not far from her eyes. The amount of background noise was surprising. It is amazing how much noise gets tuned out automatically.

Looking at the paper she thought, "Switch Hair to Natural Human." Although the hairstyle was not hers, the solid plastic headpiece became natural feeling hair. Up close in the mirror there was really no telling this hair from her normal hair. Being fully mobile there are no distinguishing her now from how she normally looked. How was she supposed to tell if the headpiece was working, aside from trying to transform. "Switch Hair Color to Blond." The hairstyle remained the same but the color was now that of a natural blond. Even her pubic hairs had changed color.

"Can I edit my own body with this?" she wondered. "My breasts are 2 inches and one cup-size bigger." Her breasts grew as requested. "I am solid." This time even though the mannequin breasts were smaller than her current breasts they were definitely larger than they were the last time she was solid. "Only my torso is solid." She could move her arms, legs and head. Turning her arms over and back she said aloud, "This is weird." She touched her chest. It was cool and solid. "My breasts are 2 sizes and one cup-size larger." The solid angular breasts grew as requested. They maintained their angular nature and thus jutted forward quite a distance from her chest. "I am flesh." Now her breasts were huge. She cupped her now larger areola and rubbed the nipples.

It felt nice but no different that when she touched herself normally. "My breasts are 5 times as sensitive as before." She was still holding her mammoth mounds when said it and the slightest touch of her breasts sent waves of pleasure through her body. "Oh god," she exclaimed. "My whole body is this sensitive." Every movement was ecstasy. Her hands could not stop rubbing her body. She was so wet that when one of her fingers brushed against her crotch it seemed to slide in of its own will. She collapsed on the ground and masturbated mindlessly. Orgasms were her only pause in her ministrations.

After a while her thoughts cleared and while no longer experiencing waves of ecstasy from every pore on her body, she still finished herself off one more time before removing her sore hand from her pussy. The timer had expired. She had spent the better part of two hours in orgasmic ecstasy. Her breasts were no longer oversized. The headpiece was once again solid. She removed it before falling asleep in a puddle of her own juices and sweat.

The Truth and Mannequin Hair

Originally, I was going to post Chapter 25 of The Truth here. Trouble is, there's no Chapter 26 ready for next week and there won't be in the immediate future. I never did get back to The Truth after the short hiatus between chapters 9 and 10 earlier this year. So I'm putting The Truth back on hiatus as of the prior release. Chapter 24 is a better stopping point than the end of Chapter 25, I think.

In its place, I have 6 chapters of a story I've basically abandoned. It doesn't really end properly, but the stopping point is good enough. It's called Mannequin Hair. I started writing this story in 2008 and, for the most part, I haven't really edited it in almost 10 years. Like many stories I wrote back then, the "magic" is over-engineered. (I have at least 3 other long stories in the vault with similar over engineering: The Collar (circa 2002), The Device (circa 2003), Remote Control (circa 2005), Mannequin Hair.)

As I said, Mannequin Hair is an older story. And I don't plan to modernize it for this release. In the first few paragraphs, the protagonist checks their answering machine to see if there are any messages. If I were to figure out what comes next, I'd go back and remove the answering machine from the story.

I had considered just letting the Tuesday update go silent. A lot of my upcoming short stories in the Saturday slot are longer than my usual fair. Lately I've been consistently over 3k words in my short stories. Half of the upcoming stories could be two parters. But I felt funny releasing several two part stories in a row.

Upcoming Saturday Schedule:

• Park Hookup – 2024-07-20, tf, tg

• Office Gab – 2024-07-27, mannequin tf

• Trust Machines: Behind the Sofa – 2024-08-03, clothing tf

• I’m Dating a Mannequin – 2024-08-10, mannequin tf, stuck, lost time

• Taste Testing – 2024-08-17 (Might split into two parts.), bondage, bdsm, mind control

• Magic Shoppe – Romp – 2024-08-31, tf, tg, mind control

• Demon In The Attic – 2024-09-07, demon summoning

• Trust Machines: Dude Gals 2 - Rita - 2024-09-14 (stories for Allen&Hannah and Terry&Trish will follow), tf, tg

• Hotel Dolls – 2024-09-21, sex doll tf

• The Transformation Inspector Four - 2024-09-28, tf, tg, mannequin tf, stuck

• In October, I hope Ted's Dolls Season 4 part 1 is ready for release. But no promises.

Over on deviantArt and BigClosetrus, also on Saturdays August through October, I will be releasing MTU: Hard To Look At in 10 weekly parts. Nothing has changed but the number of installments. Be sure to like stuff over in those places so people will see them.

Ted's Dolls Interlude 6: Winter Break, Part 2

If you haven't read any of the Ted's Dolls stories before, you should start with Ted's Dolls 1: Jane before reading this one. This interlude grew so large it has been divided into two parts.

“You don’t know where she is?” Mrs. Scarborough said.

“No, I’m sorry. I don’t.” Ted said. They were seated in the Scarborough’s living room. Ted had contacted Emily’s parents to ask them what they might know about her magical heritage before Emily had gone missing. He could tell as soon as he arrived that neither of them had a magical lineage.

“Then what brings you here, son,” Emily father said.

“I was hoping you could tell me more about Emily. I’m not sure how to ask this but was she adopted?”

“What?”

“No, she’s our daughter.”

“Why would you ask that?”

“Did Emily ever tell you about magic?”

“You mean those sex dolls?”

“Wait, you’re Ted,” Mrs. Scarborough said. “Brett, he’s the student who makes the dolls.”

“So this is your fault?” Brett Scarborough said. “I warned you about him, Rhonda.”

“What’s my fault?”

“If you hadn’t taught her magic, she wouldn’t have disappeared.”

“I fail to see how that makes any sense.”

“Of course not. Your heathen mind turned away from God a long time ago, I’m sure.” He stood up.

“Brett, stop it.”

“Don’t you side with the Devil, you Jezebel.”

“That’s enough,” Ted said. Brett froze in his tracks as he was about to attack Ted.

“What have done to him?”

“Nothing that will harm him. He’s turning into a doll.”

“I apologize. He usually isn’t like this. I think Emily going missing has affected him more than I thought.”

“Why did he call you a Jezebel?”

“I don’t know.” She knew. Ted could see it on her face.

“If Emily isn’t adopted, why isn’t she Brett’s offspring?”

“What are you accusing me of?”

“That’s not a denial.”

“Get out.”

“You don’t want me to restore Emily’s father.”

“I…”

“Though, I’m guessing Emily’s father isn’t turning into a doll, is he?”

“No. Probably not. He isn’t here.”

“Brett can’t hear us for the next two minutes. If you want to tell me something without him knowing it, speak quickly.”

“I had an affair. We had been trying to have a child for almost a year. When I got pregnant he was so happy. I couldn’t tell him. Though, I guess he suspected and said nothing all this time.”

“I can’t help you with your marital issues. I need to know who Emily’s ancestors are. Give me a name.”

“I can give you an address. She still lives nearby.”

He entered the name and address into his phone. “She?”

“You’ll have to ask her to explain.”

“Brett will turn back to normal sundown tomorrow. I suggest you pleasure yourself with the doll. If you pleasure him enough, it might mellow him out a bit.”

“How do I pleasure a doll?”

“Suck its dick. Fuck its dick. Repeat. I’ll leave you to it.”

* * *

As Ted approached the house, he saw a woman in her forties sitting on a porch swing. She waved at him and patted the seat next to her on the swing.

“You’re Ted?” She said.

“Rhonda called you?”

“Yes. You’re an Ionescu. I’m honored to welcome a member of your house to my home.” It was a formal greeting among wizards.

“I am pleased to accept your welcome, but I know not what house I am entering,” Ted replied, modifying the formal response to the circumstances.

“Oh, forgive me. I am Kate Leskovich of the Leskovich family.”

“I have heard the family name, but again, I am woefully unaware of your calling.”

“Our family has a tradition of transformation. Usually focused of self-modification. Unlike your lineage, we cannot affect others with magic but we can transform ourselves in various ways.”

“You know about Emily Scarborough.”

“Yes. How is my daughter?”

“Can you explain that first?”

“I am always a woman. My body sometimes is not. I was good friends with Rhonda and it pained me that her husband could not get her pregnant. I helped her.”

“Emily awoke about a month ago. She turned herself into a doll.”

“That is an Ionescu specialty. One a Leskovich could easily duplicate in themselves. I could never tell if she had the spark and Rhonda’s husband didn’t like when I was around. He thought I was a witch.”

“Aren’t you?”

“Technically no. But he’s rather fire and brimstone in his piety.”

“I witnessed this. The thing is, Emily has turned other people into dolls.”

“Really?”

“I am aware of several different people she’s transformed into dolls, four of them at nearly the same time.”

“That shouldn’t be possible.”

“I believe she was able to do it because she didn’t know she shouldn’t be able to do it. She’s had no formal training. No one was there telling her repeatedly, ‘You are a Leskovich. You can transform no one but yourself,’ since she was little.”

“You sounded exactly like my Uncle Ernst when I was a child. ‘You can be anything. But you can’t change others.’”

“From my research, the limitations imposed by the families are to protect bloodlines from thinning. A family can be great at creating only fire or merely good at creating fire and ice or merely okay at creating fire, ice, and lightning. By drumming it into young wizards they can’t do something, their subconscious stops them from trying to do anything that would thin the ancestral power.”

“Fascinating. So all this time I could have been able to do what you can do and you could do what I can do except that we were trained to restrain ourselves.”

“Basically. Emily doesn’t know better. So she is able to affect the world in ways her lineage would forbid.”

“And she dilutes the line by doing so.”

“I’m not so sure of that either. For weaker members of a family, this might be a concern. But for strong wizards, these limitations are unnecessary shackles. Emily is very strong. She suffered backlash only once or twice and never again.”

“Incredible. Where is she now?”

“I fear she has been captured by mentalist wizard.”

“No.” For the first time, Kate expressed a lot of emotion, distress. “How?”

“Have you heard of Stockton Perry?”

“Should I have? Is Perry one of the family names?”

“Not at all. Stockton Perry is an investor. A billionaire. He took an interest in Emily’s roommate and my friend Jane. I believe he kidnapped Jane to add her to his collection of unique things. Jane is unique because she is a model for a line of mannequins who enjoys being a mannequin, thanks to me.”

“Emily had turned Jane into a doll before Jane went missing. Being a collector, I believe Perry decided having a wizard who does transformations would be useful to collect as well. He apparently already has a mentalist in his collection.”

“Collection? Do you mean he’s going to leave this Jane girl as a doll forever?”

“Probably. Although if as I suspect he also kidnapped Emily, he probably wants her to turn Jane into a proper mannequin so she is properly represented in his collection.”

“That’s not any better.”

“Especially not for Emily. Who knows what a mentalist would do to her?”

“We’ve got to stop him.”

“I hope to do that. Unfortunately, I don’t know where my friends are, if they’re together or not, or how to find this out.”

“We need a seer. I know a member of the Pauluva family. He’ll help me. Let’s go inside and write down everything you know. I’ll contact Leslie to get him started getting information about Stockton Perry. You should go back to doing whatever you normally do.”

“Why?”

“If this Mr. Perry is a billionaire, it costs him nothing to have your followed. If he finds out you’re talking to various people in various magic families, he’ll know you’re coming for him. The more normal you act, the less guarded he’ll be. And the less you know, the less his mentalist can read from you. The girls were kidnapped on campus, right? So the mentalist has been there.”

“Yes, he has. You are properly cautious. I like that.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Is your grandmother still alive?”

“Yes.”

“And her sister?”

“Still a statue.”

“How did you know I knew?”

“I’m guessing you’re a lot older than I first thought.”

“You would not be wrong.”

Ted opened his phone. “Hello, Nana.

“Yes, Nana. I call more often than Dad. I have a question. Have you ever met Kate Leskovich?

“Yes, she’s still alive. Hold on.” He handed the phone to Kate.

“Gertie? It’s Katerine.

“Yes, Leskovich. Bertrand’s daughter.

“It is so good to hear your voice. Be sure to say hello to Tilly for me...”

* * *

Ted had promised Tilly that he’d see her by year’s end. He thanked Katerine for reminding him. Libby had wanted to see Nana so he brought her along. It was New Year’s Eve and Nana had insisted they stay overnight. In the car, Libby asked Ted, “Why is Paris in so many parts?”

“Don’t you know the song about the twelve days of Christmas?”

“Yes. That’s not what I meant. Why did she have you take her apart?”

“Her friends did that. But why did she have it done to her? She likes being a doll.”

“I don’t think I’d want to be a doll.”

“You play with dolls all the time.”

“Yes. But I’m not the doll.”

“Is Cat ever your doll?”

“Sometimes. It’s a little weird though. I can’t talk about it with my friends. None of them have dolls that are real people.”

“Well, that’s because you come from a magic family.”

“I know. Sometimes I wish we were normal.”

“We are normal.”

“No, we’re a magic family.”

“And I’m sure there’s some word you could put in front of every one of your friend’s family that would make them stand out as different. Being different is normal. Do you know what makes your family really unusual?”

“What?”

“You have a Mom and Dad who haven’t been divorced and remarried creating a blended family. I’m sure you have friends with step-siblings. It’s rather rare and you should appreciate it.”

“I do. I guess. It’s all I know.”

“Just like being from a magic family is all you know. We should ask Nana about this. Her family when she was your age is probably also different from your family.”

“I never thought of that.” Libby was quiet for a moment. “Still doesn’t explain why Paris wants to be a doll.”

“Didn’t say it would. You can ask her in week or so.”

As soon as the car stopped, Libby ran to the farmhouse door. Nana opened it and scooped Libby up as she threw herself into a hug.

“We saw each other less than a week ago, Libby.”

“I know. I just don’t get to run to you. You usually come to my house.”

“You should ask your father to visit me more often.”

“Are you trying to use me to guilt your son?”

“That’s what grandparents do.”

“Okay.”

“Hi, Teddy.”

Teddy hugged and kissed his grandmother. “You look great Nana. Somehow you seemed more frail Christmas Eve. Was that also a performance for Dad.”

“Stop saying all my secrets aloud.”

“I want to say high to Aunt Tilly,” Libby said.

“Go to the garden. Teddy and I will walk at a normal pace.”

“Okay,” Libby said, racing out to the garden.

“You have to start her lessons.”

“So soon?”

“I suspect she’s much farther along mentally than Cat or even you were.”

“Probably. Dad will not be happy.”

“When is you father ever happy when magic is the subject?” She said.

“True.”

“I’ve spoken to Leslie. He confirmed your missing friends are with Stockton Perry and he identified the mentalist who tampered with them.”

“Who?”

“Later. After Libby has gone to bed I’ll give you all the details. He thinks there’s a decent chance Emily will rescue them both without your help.”

“Really?”

“Well, there’s also too high a chance she gets killed doing it. But I don’t want to get into the details while Libby might overhear.”

When they reached the garden statue of Nana’s sister, Libby was saying, “Why don’t you want to be a person? When I’m old enough, I’m going to change you back so you can answer. But I promise to turn you back into a statue if you ask.”

“That’s very mature, Libby,” Ted said.

“I know. Libby, you’re so smart. Libby, you’re so kind. Libby, we can’t fool you with anything, can we? Should I be making more mistakes?”

“No, Libby,” Nana said. “Why would you do that?”

“So people don’t expect me to figure stuff out, to have solutions, to exceed expectations.”

“You don’t like when people are proud of what you do?”

“I am and I’m not. My friends are always telling me about getting in trouble and getting punishments and then after a short lecture they get treats. If I don’t get in trouble, does that mean I’m missing out on treats?”

“Libby, I will make sure you get lots of treats whether or not you make a mistake,” Nana said. “Just don’t make mistakes on purpose. You shouldn’t be ashamed that you know things other people don’t or that you understand things faster than other people do. Everyone is different. Don’t you have a friend who perhaps can draw things better than you?”

“Nora Duncan. She’s so good.”

“See. There are things you don’t excel at. That’s okay. You focus on your strengths and Nora can focus on hers. Maybe someday the two of you will work on something and her artistic ability combined with your abilities will allow the two of you together to do more than the two of you separately.”

“I never thought of that.”

“And neither have the kids at school who might be jealous of you.”

* * *

Ted and Libby left Nana’s house early on New Year’s Day. It was day seven for reassembling Paris. Currently, she was just the bottom half of a mannequin, waist to feet. Ted had put a green pair of slacks on her and the shoes she had been wearing when he transformed her at school. The rest of her torso was in the seventh and last big box. Ted got a red Christmas sweater to put on her torso before his mother could complain that adding her top made her topless.

When there were only two boxes left, only her head was missing. Speculation about the contents of the extra box was all wrong. The eleventh box contained her cell phone. Ted charged it and put it in her hand. On the sixth, Ted took Paris’ head out of the twelfth box and placed it atop the mannequin.

“Are you going to restore her now?” Libby said.

“No, not until Cat restores herself. We need to get all these decorations off the tree first.”

“Okay.”

“Was anyone here when Cat did this?”

“No, she did it over night before you came home.”

“Who took her clothes away?”

“What clothes?”

“She couldn’t transform her clothes so they must have fallen off since there aren’t any clothes in the branches.”

“OF course. I’ll go get her bathrobe,” Mom said.

“She hasn’t transformed yet because she didn’t want us to see her without clothes, Libby.”

“Why? I’ve seen her without clothes when she turns into one of my dolls.”

“Yes. But that’s in the bedrooms. Not in the living room. We don’t parade around the living room without clothes, do we?”

“No. we don’t.”

Mom returned with the robe.

“Perhaps we should just go out and come back in an hour or so. It’s rather sunny for a Saturday in Winter,” Dad said.

Ted adjusted Paris’ pose and cradled the folded bathrobe in her arms. “Cat, Paris has your bathrobe. It’s 11:13.”

They went out for a drive. They returned with warm pretzels.

Cat greeted them at the door in a Christmas sweater, dark blue skirt, and blue stockings. “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Teddy.”

“Happy Happy to you. How long did the transformation take?”

“Only twenty minutes. It took longer to turn into a tree.”

“How much do you practice on other people?”

“Not much. Mom and Dad are too busy and I’m not allowed to change Libby. She’s like you, I think.”

“She is. How about you change Paris back?”

“Can I?”

“Can you?”

“Of course.”

An hour later, Paris was still a mannequin.

“I don’t understand. I can’t get the image to lock in my mind.”

“You need to stop changing yourself and start changing others. Don’t you have any friends you could experiment on?”

“I can’t tell them about magic. They’d think I’m a freak.”

“Are any of your friends inclined to want to be turned into a doll?”

“Sarah and Michael.”

“Then you can practice.”

“How did you explain to them you would be missing until today? You have school on Monday. You missed all the New Year’s Eve parties.”

“No one invited me. I think they already think I’m weird.”

“Hiding in your room as a mannequin can’t help that. Now you have two reasons to make friends.”

“I think that’s enough, Theodore,” Mom said.

“Okay.”

“I want another pretzel. Hungry, Cat? You can’t do magic when you’re hungry,” Dad said.

Everyone followed him into the kitchen.

Libby entered the kitchen a moment after everyone else. She picked up a pretzel and left. She returned a moment later without the pretzel.

“What did you do with that pretzel, Honey?” Mom said.

“I gave it to Paris. I didn’t want her to miss out.”

“That’s very thoughtful, Libby.”

“I’m going to my room to play with the Tiddles.”

“The Tiddles?” Dad said.

“The dolls I brought her,” Ted said.

“Okay.”

“Have another pretzel, Cat.”

“I ate a power bar while you were out. I was starved after spending two weeks as a tree.”

“One power bar is probably not enough.”

“Is three enough?”

Ted laughed.

“This pretzel is delicious. What’s funny?” Paris said. She walked into the room and gave Ted a kiss before sitting next to him.

“What?”

“Why is everyone staring at me?” Paris said.

“How did you change back?”

“You changed me back, didn’t you? Arthur called you into the kitchen and you did it. I don’t know where the pretzel came from.”

“Why didn’t you tell us you changed her back, Teddy?” Dad said.

“I didn’t want her to miss out on the pretzels.”

* * *

Paris asked to put Libby to bed that night. After Libby had brushed her teeth and was in bed, Paris sat in a chair near Libby’s bed. There was a book on the chair. “Do you want me to read this?”

“No,” Libby said. “I’ve already read it. But Mom insisted I put a book there.”

Paris chuckled. “Okay, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you restored me earlier today?”

“I don’t know,” Libby said. “They get uptight about Cat using her magic. It’s no big deal.”

“It is a big deal. You need to tell someone who knows magic. Magic is very dangerous. You don’t want anyone to get hurt because you didn’t know something, do you?”

“Okay. I’ll tell Teddy tomorrow,” Libby said. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why do you ask Teddy to turn you into a doll? Why does anyone do it?”

“Why does anyone do anything? Usually because it makes them happy.”

“You were happy with your head in a box since before Christmas?”

“Yes. I don’t want to be doll all the time. But sometimes spending time carefree helps make normal life better. Have you been a doll?”

“Cat isn’t allowed to do magic to me. And Teddy told me he wouldn’t do it until I was older.”

“You’ve already done it to yourself, haven’t you?”

“How did you know?”

“I guessed. And you didn’t find being a doll very different from not being a doll aside from not being able to move, did you?”

“Exactly. That’s why I don’t understand why people do it.”

“It’s because you are so young. At your age, most of what you do is for fun. As you get older, you have to do things that aren’t fun. That’s when being a doll helps. It relieves me from the stress of being an adult.”

“So if I had more worries, I’d understand why people become dolls.”

“At least you’d understand why some people become dolls. I can only speak for myself. I’m sure other people have other reasons.”

“You can’t tell anyone I turned myself into a doll. Not even Teddy.”

“I won’t tell. But if Teddy asks me, I won’t lie to him. He probably won’t ask me, of course.”

“That’s fair. Thanks for explaining to me.”

“You would have figured it out eventually. Now, I should go. I’m a terrible at putting you to bed since I’m sure I’ve left a lot to think about.”

“It’s okay. I usually think a lot.”

Paris stood up and kissed Libby on the forehead. “And that’s a good thing. Good night, Libby.”

“Good night, Paris.”

Paris turned out the light and closed the door as she left the room. Libby stared at the ceiling for a moment thinking about what Paris said. She must have missed something the last time, she thought. She turned herself into a doll to see if she could figure it out.

Paris returned to Ted’s room and found him already in bed. She got into bed with him. “Libby is such a wonderful child.”

“She’s precocious. I suspect I’m going to be teaching her magic years earlier than I taught Cat. She restored you, didn’t she?”

“I’m not at liberty to say,” Paris said with a grin.

“She doesn’t want us to know.”

Paris only shook her head.

“I’ll tell her I figured it out. She wasn’t very subtle.”

“Not really. She’s very curious why people would want to be dolls.”

“She didn’t bug you about that, did she?”

“She asked about that. She didn’t bug me at all.” Paris said. “Do you think these other wizards can help you with Jane and Emily?”

“I hope so. I was also thinking I might ask Mr. Pauluva about looking for your brother.”

“I haven’t had any luck finding Randall. First thing I did after taking a bite from that pretzel was look at my phone for messages from or about him. Nothing. It’s like he fell off the planet. Any help would be wonderful.”

“I was expecting you to be a bit randier after a couple weeks boxed up.”

“I might have fallen asleep while boxed. I remember Trish and Whitney talking as they were boxing me. They saved my head for last and it perched nearby as each of my parts went into the boxes. Whitney says, ‘You know, Paris, if box twelve is your head, you’re going to spend over two weeks basically in a sensory deprivation tank.’ Trish says, ‘You think that will drive her crazy?’ Whit says, ‘Who could tell?’ And they laughed. They still wrapped my head in the box. I was actually nervous as a mannequin. Dolls don’t get nervous.

“But time passed and I was fine. I zoned out a bit and the next thing I knew you were unboxing box one. Feeling you touching my parts each day and assembling me. I was anything but senseless. But I wasn’t turned on. It wasn’t until you dressed me up that I felt anything like pleasure. Then once my head was attached, you waited for Cat to change back and all the touching there faded. By the time I was me again, there wasn’t any randiness to be felt.”

“How about now?” Ted said, pulling her into a kiss.

“Now would be a fine time for randiness.”

* * *

“Hey, Rob, how’s it going?” Richard said into the phone. His fingers twirled around a few of Jemma’s curls.

“I wanted to know if you and Emily could stop by for dinner. Earl and Rhana are hosting dinner this Friday. Whitney and Burke will be there too.”

“Sounds great. Except I’m not seeing Emily any more.”

“What?”

“We broke up.”

“You could show up stag. It won’t be a problem.”

“I could bring Jemma.” He put his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone. He pulled her head off his cock and said, “Want to meet some of my friends for dinner?”

She just nodded and pulled his cock back into her mouth.

“Jemma?”

“Sophomore at school. I met her the Tuesday of exams. We’ve spent the last few weeks together.”

“Have you heard from Emily at all? No one can get her to call them.”

“No idea. Haven’t seen her since Thursday before Christmas. She didn’t even say goodbye to me.”

“Did she find out about Jemma?”

“Find out what? I don’t think they’ve met.”

“When did you break up with Emily?”

“I told you, Thursday.”

“But you met Jemma Tuesday.”

“Yeah.”

“And you didn’t break up with Emily for two days.”

“I didn’t know Jemma and I would start dating on Tuesday.”

“I’m still confused.”

“Ah.., Ah… I’ve got go. Text me what time of Friday.”

The phone disconnected before Rob could say, “Okay.”

Rob made another call. “Ted?”

“Hey Rob.”

“A bunch of poker players are having dinner at Rhana and Earl’s with out girlfriend and thought you and Paris might like to attend.”

“Sure. When?”

“Friday, the twelfth around seven.”

“Sure we’ll be there.”

“Have you spoken to Emily.”

“You didn’t invite Richard did you?”

“Well. Yeah. I just got off the phone with him. He was acting weird.”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to say this but she was kidnapped like Jane was.”

“She was? Is that why no one can reach her?”

“’Fraid so. Richard wanted to go to the dinner?”

“Yeah, he wanted to introduce us to Jemma. He’s apparently already moved on. Why isn’t he concerned about Emily?”

“Magic.”

“I think you need to join us early and explain what’s going on.”

“That might be a good idea. Or it might put you all in grave danger. I’ll think about it and text you later.”

“If I don’t hear from you, I’m calling you again tomorrow.”

“That’s fine. Take care.”

The Truth - Chapter 24

He walked back into the bedroom. “Sarah and Mira, you are free to act normally.”

Mira stood up immediately. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven,” Jon said pointing at the clock.

“I need to get some sleep so I can get to the boutique by ten tomorrow morning.”

“I have a thought,” Jon said. “Debra, think up a good pose for the boutique window. Debra posed as she imagines Debra.”

Debra the mannequin was now standing at attention beside the bed.

Jon looked at her for a moment and said, “Debra flesh Debra.”

“You got my hint!” Debra laughed. “I just thought it would be better if I could change into a mannequin on my own so I could change back to flesh if I wanted to. Also, why am I posing for the boutique window?”

“Turn into a mannequin. Any pose.” Jon requested. When she did, he continued, “Mira, dress her and I’ll put you both in the store window for the night.”

Mira touched Debra and transformed into a dark green dress with white trim, a gold lame clutch and matching shoes.

As the shoes appeared Debra swayed a little. She turned back to flesh and said, “When she puts shoes on my feet, I can’t compensate for the change in center of gravity because I can’t move. Now when I change into a mannequin, I’ll be properly balanced. She wants to know if you change her spell, or mine, to fix this,” Debra laughed. “You have to make it so I can talk to my clothes, if their alive, when I’m a mannequin. It’s no fair that I’ll hear her and she won’t hear me.”

“Mira, try not to drive Debra crazy talking to her all night. I’ll go modify the mannequin spell so that if the clothing worn is living you can communicate both directions. Sarah, go start that change, please.”

“Please? For that I even do it fast.” Sarah said scurrying from the room.

“Okay, pick a new pose facing that wall and I’ll teleport you to the boutique window. This way we can be sure Mira is at the store for opening. Mira, make sure you are human by nine and call in the other employees by ten so we can screen them and add them to the store spells. Oh and be sure to get some sleep tonight, the two of you.”

“She said okay,” Debra said. Then she turned to the wall, struck a pose, and said, “I’m a mannequin. I’m a mannequin. I’m a mannequin.” She transformed into a mannequin.

“Debra teleport Bede’s boutique front window Debra.”

Jon went to the living room.

Sarah announced, “I’ve created the spell allowing Debra to communicate with her clothing; this spell reshapes a living mannequin’s legs when shoes are placed on their feet; and a few spells to modify Mira’s apparent age.”

Jon said, “Sarah become self Sarah.”

Sarah immediately dropped to the floor kneeling in front of Jon, “Oh, thank you, blessed Master for restoring this slave’s slave-self.”

“I'm tired. Go to my bed and we'll sleep.”

“Yes, Master!” Sarah squealed, running into the bedroom.

Jon had a thought and sat at the desk. He finished a new set of spells and got up. He picked up the TV remote and cast the new spells. Then he turned on the TV. On one channel, Sandra was recharging in Jerry's foyer. He changed the channel and found Debra standing in the store windows at Bede's.

Another channel change and he saw Genny laying in bed grinding her crotch against a body pillow.

Jon smirked, remembering he had left her plugged, but turned off. “Genny plugged 20 percent Genny.”

Genny stopped moving and looked around. “Jon?” After a moment she added, “Thanks, Jon. Good night.” She lay her head down and closed her eyes.

Jon changed channels again and saw Sarah on his bed. She had made the bed and was sitting at the end of the bed watching the entrance to the room. A few seconds later she got up and lay on the bed face up, staring at the ceiling. A few seconds later she was on her stomach, her arms stretched over her head.

Another channel change showed the statue of Dorothy standing in Mira's foyer. The sound of running water sounded soothing in the empty hall.

Another channel change showed Tracy sleeping, sitting on the sofa with her legs spread. Irina was still a wind-up figure and she had apparently wound down doing something between Tracy's legs.

Jon turned the TV off and went to his bedroom. Sarah had fallen asleep curled up at the end of the bed. He got in bed behind her and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. He was asleep quickly thereafter.

* * *

The morning sun managed to reach the store window by eight through the canyon of buildings. It quickly warmed Debra's cool plastic body waking her gently. Outside the window office workers briskly walked by on their way to work. None took the time to notice one of many mannequins in one of many store windows. And none of them noticed when one of the mannequins animated and stepped out of the window into the store.

“Mira? Are you awake?” Debra asked as she walked through the store to backroom.

“I am now. Where are we going?”

“I'm taking you to the office so you can call Zoe and Brenda in early,” Debra replied. At the office, she stood in the corner and turned back into a mannequin. “Oh, and before I forget,” she thought to Mira. “Get someone to bring breakfast. I'm starved.”

The green dress and accessories flowed off Debra's stiff body as Mira returned to flesh. “No problem, Debra. I'm a bit hungry myself.” She ran a hand over Debra's breast and asked, “Which feels better my hand on your breast or me as fabric stretched around your breast, I wonder.” She sat down at the desk and called Zoe and Brenda in early, asking Brenda to bring in breakfast for 5-6 people. She looked back at Debra and said, “Stay right there. I want to dress you. Don't move.”

She returned shortly with a strapless cocktail dress. She removed Debra's arms and slipped the dress over her head. She was zipping up the back of the dress as Brenda arrived.

“I've got bagels, donuts and coffee.” Brenda was a tall, freckled redhead with pale skin.

“Excellent,” Mira said, grabbing a bagel.

At that moment Zoe arrived. “Hi.” She said softly, taking a bagel. Zoe was a plump brunette who dressed as conservatively as possible. “Is that Debra?” she asked.

“Yes, it is,” Debra said transforming, “And I'd like to eat something but someone's forgotten to reattach my arms.”

After a moment of shock shared by the other two women, Mira said, “Sorry, I wasn't done dressing you.”

“When we turn into mannequins will our arms come off?” Brenda asked.

“No,” Jon replied appearing suddenly in the doorway. “Your mannequin forms will have no joints. Debra, I think, was just trying to surprise you.” While Debra's arms were reattached, Jon explained the idea behind the mannequin sales staff. He finished, asking, “Do you have any misgivings about being mannequins?”

“I do,” Zoe said. “I don't really fit into the clothing here.”

“I'm not going to fire you for being overweight. But part of the job is being able to wear the clothes.”

“I was talking to Rachel last night and she said I might be able to do alterations in back.” Zoe offered.

“That would be such a waste,” Brenda said. “Zoe knows the store's inventory inside and out. And she's a natural with customers. If we can change into mannequins, can't you change her size?”

“I could,” Jon said. “But how would she explain going from how she looks now to a size 6 overnight?”

“Maybe she'd only be thin here while she gradually loses the weight,” Mira offered. “The mannequin transformations only work here. So maybe she just steps into the changing room one size and walks out another.”

“How would you feel about that?” Debra asked Zoe.

“Losing weight sounds great but that doesn't make being a helpless mannequin all day more appealing.”

“I have an idea that was similar to being a mannequin but more of a marketing job.” Sarah interjected, “Maybe a cardboard kiosk that talks to the customers. Offers promotions, notes the sales, etc. The kind of cardboard cutout you find in a bar but this one would talk. Would being able to talk make you feel less helpless?”

“Yeah, that sound okay.”

* * *

Jerry showered and dressed casually. He went to his foyer and found the robot's eyes were no longer flashing. He unplugged the robot.

As he did so the robot's eyes lit for a few seconds then faded as the lids opened. “Good morning, Jerry,” she said.

“Do you need assistance getting out of the shipping case?”

“No, thank you,” she replied sitting up. She lifted one leg up and over the side of the case and then the other, turning in that direction. Then she just stood up. For a normal human to do what she did would require incredible muscle strength. “Would you like to store the shipping case in a location more suitable than this foyer?”

“Do you need the case for routine daily use?”

“There are a few wrenches with uncommon heads in the case needed for long term maintenance. For daily use and maintenance, the case is unnecessary.” She closed the case and picked it up. “Is there a closet where it can standup? Or a bed it can lay under?”

“This way,” he said leading her to his spare room. He opened the closet and moved some clothing aside. “Will it fit there?”

“I believe so,” she replied maneuvering the case into the corner of the closet. “This is not your bedroom, correct?”

“Yes, this is the spare room,” he answered. “How about making breakfast?”

“Certainly, lead me to your kitchen. What would you like to eat this morning?”

“Just an egg over easy and some toast with my coffee.”

The robot paused at the entrance to the kitchen than said, “Please stand back. I need to get use to your kitchen.” The robot was a blur of motion opening and closing every cabinet in the kitchen. Before he could react, she was standing in front of the refrigerator where she returned to normal speed as she picked up an egg, the butter and the milk. She got out a mug, a bowl, a frying pan, and other cooking utensils as if she had been cooking in the kitchen for years. She started his coffee, put bread in the toaster and turned on the stove for the frying pan. As she cooked she commented, “If you have any complaints about the personality I am using, you can always modify it in it Maintenance Mode.”

“So far, so good,” he replied sitting at the dinette. “I see I should have asked for something fancier.”

“Would you like something fancier? I could do a quick sauce.”

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“How do you like your coffee?”

“Black is fine. One sugar is sometimes better.”

She took a sip of the coffee then handed it to him. “How is this?”

He took a sip. “It needs a sugar or one of my sugar substitutes in the....”

“Third cabinet from the left. Duly noted.” She said opening the cabinet and getting sugar substitute packet, opening it and pouring it into his coffee. Turning away, she flipped the egg. The toaster popped and she put the hot toast to a plate and proceeded to butter it. She held it up, “Too much butter? Not enough?”

“Just a bit more,” he replied.

She nodded and finished buttering his toast. Then she put the egg on his plate and placed it in front of him. “I hope you like it.” She turned around and start tidying the kitchen.

A girlfriend would have watched me try it, he thought. “Tastes great, Sandra,” he said.

“Glad you like it,” she replied. After cleaning her mess she started cleaning off whatever plates were in the sink and put them in the dishwasher. “What are your plans for after breakfast?”

“Haven't decided,” he replied finishing his toast and eggs.

She took his dish and it was quickly in the dishwasher. “I have several suggestions that might interest you but I don't want to be too forward.”

“Too forward? Really?”

“The first thing you requested of me was breakfast. I suspect you aren't in a hurry for sex. I'll suggest you ask me to clean something. Perhaps some laundry or some vacuuming.”

He laughed, “I'm supposed to ask for sex first? Is there some kind of etiquette for the first day with a sex robot?”

“Yes, you are supposed to request a blow job and then fuck every orifice I have,” she replied licking her lips.

“You have a tongue?”

“Of course? Can't give head without a tongue. Want a demonstration?”

“Okay, I haven't had a good blow in a while. Why not?” He got up. “I'll go sit on the sofa.”

“That would be fine,” she said following him into the living room. As he reached the sofa, she grabbed his belt and started to open it. Then she slid his pants down along with his boxers. Then she pointed to the sofa. As he sat down she took his cock in her hand and knelt down. Her eyes were looking into his eyes as she methodically coated his cock with saliva.

Jerry marveled at the attention to detail. Whatever lubricant she was using felt, looked and even bubbled like saliva. Staring back into her eyes, they looked so human. He had something of a fetish for robots but she did not act like a robot.

There was nothing high-tech about the blow job. She alternated between stroking his cock with her hands and her mouth as a living woman might. Jerry closed his eyes after a moment and let himself enjoy the blow job. After a few moments he was ready to cum. He looked down at the robot and her eyes were locked on his. As if reading his mind, she redoubled her efforts and he found himself cumming in her mouth, the sound of sucking it all down and his heavy breathing the only sounds in the room.

She continued licking his cock, sucking down any additional cum. When he looked down at her again, she removed his cock from her mouth and asked, “Next hole?”

He laughed. “You are not what I expected.”

“Are you displeased?”

“Not after that,” he explained. “I was just expecting you to act like a robot.”

“Ro bot Mode En Gaged”, Sandra intoned, her eyes lighting with each word. She stood up straight, her arms were bend at a perfect right angle with her hands held perfectly flat, the fingers rigid and side-by-side. “How May I Serve You?”

“What just happened?” He was going to stand up but realized he was getting hard. “Remove your leotard.”

With herky-jerky movements, the robot reached the leotard zipper and pulled it down. When finished, a smooth crotched woman (based on her breasts) stood in the comical robot pose.

“Bend over and spread your legs.”

Again the robot silently complied.

Jerry was hard again. He got up and stood behind the robot. “How do I fuck you with no cunt?”

“Sex Or Gans Ex Posed,” the robot intoned as a panel over its crotch disappeared, replaced by a sexdoll-like hole.

As accurate as the mouth had been, this was a surprise. But at that point Jerry did not care. He slid his erect cock into the orifice and found it the exact tightness to pleasure his cock. He grabbed hold of the robot and fucked it for all he could.

Ten minutes later he was sitting on the couch. It was too early in the day to be this tired. The robot remained where it was. “We're done. Clean the apartment.”

The orifice disappeared behind its panel as the robot stood up straight. It looked around the room for a moment then started moving. With exaggerated mechanical motions, it picked up its leotard, folded it and placed it neatly on the sofa. The robot then searched for and found a vacuum cleaner.

As it vacuumed the floor, Jerry said, “Freeze.”

The robot stopped moving immediately. He got up and touched its ass and breasts. Though obviously made of some kind of polyvinyl rather than flesh, it felt exactly like flesh. When the robot did not react to being touched at all, he shrugged, “Resume.”

As if unaware it had every stopped, the robot continued vacuuming. Eventually it vacuumed every room in the apartment.

Jerry picked up the robot manual and read about Robot Mode. In this mode, the robot performed any task given. But it would not perform high order tasks in this mode. It could only perform tasks like cooking in Companion Mode. He looked up from the book as the vacuum was not running. He found the robot in the bathroom, cleaning the bathtub. “Companion Mode,” he commanded.

“Companion Mode engaged, Jerry,” Sandra responded. The robotic motions of her body were immediately replaced by more nature human motions. “By the way, do you have any furniture polish? I could not find any.”

“There might be something under the sink. I'll check.”

“No, don't bother. I'll look when I'm done in here.” She said, continuing to clean. As Jerry had lingered at the doorway, she looked at him and said, “You should read page 172.” She winked.

“What's on page 172?”

She smiled wickedly and turned to face him looking down.

Following her eye he noticed her smooth crotch was no longer smooth. An anatomically appropriate slit was visible between her legs.

MANIP - Petrification Flower

Transcript

Legends of the fabled Chrysanthemum Gorgænum are few as the idea that a flower could turn someone to stone seems far too fanciful for most scientists and researchers. Nevertheless, writings about the flower can be found. One such source details the proper method to pick the flower, which it claims does not destroy its potency.

Cut from the stem with silver plated clippers, its fragrance would last only a day. But that fragrance was dangerous. A brief inhalation could cause paralysis lasting a few hours up to a whole day. Several breaths would cause the person to turn to a statue for a much longer duration, months to years according to one legend. One book said if the victim held the flower, they wouldn't be restored until the flower wilted.

Gabrielle had known none of this. She'd found the clipping on her boyfriend's desk next to a breathing mask.

She had loved the scent in the room and had taken several deep breaths from the bloom to enjoy it further.

That was over five months ago. Her boyfriend, wearing the mask, had decided he could test the theory about the duration being related to the health of the bloom.

His journal entry for today was similar to the last couple hundred entries:

• No signs of wilting, dehydration, or malnutrition.

• Does not seem to need water or soil.

• Will continue observations tomorrow.

• Plan to remove flower from subject's hand in three weeks under consideration. Unsure how long condition will continue after removal.