Normally Nina wouldn’t do something like this — normally. But times weren’t normal these days. She’d been out of work for seven months and bills were stacking up. Her car was on the verge of being repossessed. She was behind on her rent. The phone would be cut off at the end of this month. And with winter coming on she was afraid that since she hadn’t paid her utility bill the last two months she’d have no heat.
There wasn’t much in the job market where she lived. Sure, there were shitty retail and bugger flipping jobs, but nothing that paid anything close to what she’d been making before the downturn. She needed something that would make money. And like right now.
Since the ”normal” jobs were a bust, that meant the only ones left were the. . . how do you say it? The slight “bent” jobs. A friend of Nina’s had gotten a job working as a waitress in a topless joint, and told her she should apply for a spot. Nina wasn’t sure she could do that. It wasn’t that she was ashamed of her body, but the idea of drunken guys staring at her breasts, or even wanting to touch her. . . she shuddered. That was bullshit. She didn’t want to have anything to do with that.
Same with stripping. There was something about putting yourself on display like that that . . . well, she just didn’t dig it. She’d been naked in front of people before, but this was different. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but to her it seemed like if she spent time riding a pole on a stage she’d just be a thing. Not a person, but this object . . . and that wasn’t her.
But with things getting tight Nina realized her options were getting very limited. And the time had come when she needed to start exploring those things that, while she might be uncomfortable doing, would at least pay the bills.
She’d looked through the adult classified . . . dancer, dancer, topless waitress . . . escort— yeah, right. Slave, slave, model, maid, stripper . . ..
Wait a moment—
She looked over the model ad again:
Model Wanted
Girl needed for lingerie modeling. Must have good personality,
be willing to work long hours, not have a problem posing in revealing outfits.
Good pay; advances possible. No sex involved.
That last is what caught Nina’s eye: “Advances Possible.” Damn. Well, if anyone needed an advance, it was her.
Modeling might not be that bad. She figured that she’d have to dress up in stuff and then be photographed. The “No sex involved” most likely meant this wasn’t some porn gig, and she probably wouldn’t have to worry about being dressed in only a thong and stocking and then having two guys with big dicks cum on her breasts while she was being photographed.
This was something she could get into. It was still being on display, sure, but it wasn’t public, it wasn’t in person. She’d go into a studio and get snapped, then be paid and be on her way. She could keep her car, her apartment . . . her life.
As it has been said, there was nothing to lose by trying.
She’d never been in the mall this close to closing, but when she’d called yesterday about the modeling job the girl on the other side told her where to go, and that she was to show up about ten minutes before closing. No reason for the later, but Nina was starting to think that whoever had placed the ad might do their shooting after hours. Hence the warning, “willing to work long hours.”
She stopped outside the store where she’d been told to go. It was a Frederick’s. Duh, she thought. Where else to get lingerie? She noticed some of the photos of girls dressed in the various sale items, and figured that’s what the job was all about. At least she hoped. There was a tinge of nervous fluttering in her stomach. Maybe this was just some guy wanting a girl to dress up in a maid’s outfit so he could snap her with her pussy hanging out for his private collection. She steeled herself. So what? It’ll be in private at least. Okay, so it might end up on the Internet, but shit, I could think of worse things to have happen . . . like starving.
Nina went inside.
The store was quiet; no one was around. Nina examined some of the items on display. The bodices. The panties. The teddies. Even a couple of the animal print dresses . . . all the while wondering what this stuff would look like on her. She’d never been big on dressing in this frilly shit; leather, yeah, maybe something rubber now and then, but she never thought of herself as the sort of girl who’d wear something silky to bed just to get laid. It wasn’t her style. But now that cash was involved . . . shit, she’d wear anything if it meant getting paid.
She was examining a pair of boots with stiletto heels when she hear a woman’s voice say, “Excuse me? Can I help you?” Nina turned.
The woman was standing in the entrance to the stock area. She was Asian— Nina couldn’t say for certain from where, but she was damn sure Asian. She was in a leather mini dress, black stockings, and high heels that hurt Nina’s feet just looking at them. The woman was beautiful; a perfect face, nice eyes, long straight hair tinted a light brown . . . Nina had been with a couple of girls in the past, just your normal fooling around with friends shit. This was the first time she’d ever wanted to be with a woman she’d only just met.
“I’m Nina,” she said a little timidly. “I’m here about the modeling job?”
For a moment Nina thought the woman was going to tell her to get lost, then walked over and held out her hand. “Ah, yeah. I remember. Pleased to meet you. I’m Lucy.” As they shook hands Nina noticed her nails; the damn things had to be two inches long. Lucy’s skin was incredibly smooth, like she’d been working lotion into her hands before coming out.
“Pleased to met you,” Nina told her.
Lucy stepped back. “I have to finish closing up. Should only take me about another fifteen minutes. If you’d like you can go in the back and wait for me.”
Nina headed for the back room. There was nothing unusual back here. No oversized bed with mirrors. No wading pool filled with gelatin. No crossbar with restraining straps and a latex slave hood. None of that. Just a table over in the corner, a couple of chairs, and outfits waiting to be displayed.
And the mannequins. Don’t forget them.
There were three put together, naked, and one that was in pieces; the head over there, the torso with the arms attached over there, and the hip and legs lying next to the torso. Nina figured this Lucy chick was in the process of taking this one mannequin apart when she entered the store, more than likely getting it ready for display.
Nina sat and waited. She wasn’t nervous. She was total at ease about what she was going to do.
Desperation tends to do that to a person.
Right on the mark, Lucy showed up fifteen minutes later. She sighed and pulled up the chair opposite Nina. “Sorry about that, but . . . it’s been one of those days, you know?”
Nina nodded. “Tell me about it.”
“So . . .” Lucy crossed her legs and leaned on the table. “You want to model.”
Smiling, Nina trying to turn on the charm. “Yeah. I mean, I saw the ad in the paper and I thought, you know, what the heck? I could probably do—“
“You ever model before?”
“No.” Nina tried not to look let down.
There was a pause. Nina thought she was going to be told to leave, but Lucy smiled and said, “That’s okay. What I’m looking for is someone who’s never done this before, but who I think is a natural. And so far . . .” She gave Nina the once-over. “I’m liking what I see.”
She tried to not blush, but Nina knew her cheeks were getting red. “Thanks.” She cleared her throat. “Um, I hate to bring this up—”
“But what about money?”
Nina nodded.
“It’s cool.” Lucy leaned back. “How about for starts I pay you . . . $65,000?”
Nina nearly pissed her pants. As it was she couldn’t keep the dumbfounded look off her face. “You’re shittin’ me! A year?”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t know what to say. This was a hell of a lot more money than she’d anticipated, and twenty thousand a year more than she had been making. It was then she realized she’d been made an offer. “Did I. . . am I hired?”
Lucy smiled. “I don’t think I’d be talking money if I hadn’t.”
“But—“
“It’s okay, Nina.” She leaned over and patted her on the knee. “I think you’ll do fine. You have just what I’m looking for . . . you’re simple, yet there’s something about you that says you’re also sophisticated. A woman of the world. Am I right?”
“Yes, of course.” Nina would have agreed with Lucy had she told her she looked like the sort of girl who should be giving $10 blow jobs in a stall at the local dance club. “Do you need—“
Lucy held up a hand. “Well, there is something I’d like to do before getting into all the paper work—“
Nina didn’t like the sounds of this. “Such as?”
“I want you to strip.”
Oh, shit. Of course the ad said there’d be no sex on the job. That didn’t mean this was the point in the interview where Nina discovers that her new boss is the sort of girl who likes to cover another girl in dark chocolate before pissing in her face. Or whipping her with a wet leather belt. Or using a stainless steel dildo on her. Nina didn’t want to hesitate but she must have, because Lucy picked up on it immediately.
“Hey, it’s okay,” she told her, the Asian girl’s voice softening. “I need to get some shots of you au natural, if you know what I mean, so I can figure out what’s going to look best on you. I mean. . .” She stood and gave Nina a comforting look. “You have a nice body; I can see that now. I just want to get a feel for what will be perfect on you.”
With complements like that, Nina couldn’t help but feel at ease. “Okay. I mean—“
“Hey, it’s normal to be nervous.” Lucy walked over by where the mannequins were and pulled a curtain across, making a background. “It’s like the first time you stripped for someone; you’re a little self conscious and all, wondering if you’re good enough for the other person . . . don’t worry.” She gave Nina that eye again. “I’ve seen a hell of a lot worse than you.”
That was all Nina needed. She got up and began disrobing while Lucy set up a camera.
Before she started shooting Lucy handed Nina a pair of slip-on mules to put on. They had a bit of a platform and a very high heel, maybe as high as the pair Lucy was wearing. “I want to see some definition in your calves,” she told Nina, “and this is the best way to bring it out.” Nina put the shoes on and then stood before the camera.
A couple of lights snapped on, the diffused illumination bouncing off their reflection canopies. “I just want you to be natural, Nina,” Lucy told her, getting the camera ready. “Give me a couple of front and side shots . . . arms to the side; hold it!” A flash went off. “Turn to the left . . . hold it!” Another flash. “Now, back to the front, hands on hips, feet slightly apart . . . that’s good . . . hold it!”
After the first three shots Nina became completely at ease. She didn’t notice she was naked. She didn’t notice the camera, or Lucy. She didn’t care that the shoes felt strange on her feet. She was interested in one thing— posing. Wanting to look good. Playing to whomever would see these photos. Lucy would tell her to move a certain way, and Nina obliged. It was as if she’d been doing this forever.
Maybe she was a natural?
“Okay, you’re doing fine,” Lucy told her, and the pride in her voice was apparent. “I want you to stand with your feet slightly apart, your left arm down and slightly away from you body — hold it naturally, yes — and your right arms up . . . higher . . . bend it like you have a cell phone . . . perfect! Turn your head slightly to the left. Now hold it . . ..”
The flash went off—
And Nina felt something strange wash over her. Something warm and very inviting . . . and not a little stimulating. It felt very nice, as a matter of fact. Although as soon as the feeling subsided there was this annoying stiffness in her joints that she thought rather odd . . ..
Nina went to stretch and discovered she couldn’t.
What the fuck? She went to lower her arm and the realization hit her— she couldn’t! She tried turning her head; flexing her left arm . . . moving her feet. Nothing. She had no control over her body. It didn’t mean she couldn’t feel anything; sensations were still normal.
She simply couldn’t move a muscle.
“What the fuck is going on, Lucy?” She heard her voice in her head, but no words came out. She tried to move her mouth, but it was the same as with the rest of her body— it was frozen in place, flexed into a slight, pleasant smile that she’d had on her face—
Before Lucy took that last shot.
It seemed like she could look from side to side and up and down. She saw Lucy step out from behind the camera. She walked over to Nina and examined her closely. She seemed almost proud of the way the now-frozen Nina seemed.
“Yes, yes girl,” Lucy mumbled. “You are perfect.”
She reached up and pulled Nina’s hair off, tossing it to one side before walking out of Nina’s line of sight.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell. She wanted to pass out and fall down. Nina couldn’t do any of these things. Oh, sure, she was screaming in her head plenty, but that was it. Not a sound escaped her motionless lips, not a muscle rippled on her immovable frame.
She could see her hair lying only a few feet from her. She recognized the hair cut, but the hair . . . it looked like a wig. Not her real hair, but a fucking wig! Just like . . . like . . ..
OH, FUCK! Nina glanced as best she could to the right. She could just make out her hand— looking perfectly still, the skin . . . the skin carrying the polished, buffed sheen of new plastic.
Lucy stepped into her line of sight again. She reached down . . . and pulled her apart, separating her torso from her hips. She lay Nina on the ground gently, and she could see her hips and legs, all plastic like, shiny, smooth . . . and her groin . . . no hair, no labia, nothing. Just smooth, flesh-colored plastic.
That’s when she did pass out . . ..
When Nina did come around she was in the main part of the store. Most of the lights were out; there was just enough illumination so you could see what was going on. Lucy had reattached her torso with her hips. She could feel something on her legs and feet. It was stockings and shoes. That was when she made out her reflection in the window.
She would have gasped had she been able.
She was wearing red stockings that came up all the way to her groin. Her feet were encased in a pair of red leather pumps with stiletto heels, much like the shoes she’d first seen when she’d entered the store. She was wearing this lacy, semi-see through teddy that was low cut enough to show off a lot of cleavage. There were lace gloves on her hands. It looked (and felt) like Lucy had glued fake nails on to give her hands a more feminine appearance.
She was almost shocked back into unconscious when she saw her face. It was hers, no doubt— but it was done up with slight makeup and it . . . looked . . . just as plastic as the rest of her. It couldn’t be, but it was. Nina couldn’t escape the fact that her face was, that she was looking like a mannequin.
No, scratch that.
That’s what she was.
As she watched she saw Lucy reflected in the glass, walking up behind her, stepping up on the ledge she was on, and placing a wig of long, red, curly hair on her bald head. She stepped around to the front and adjusted it. “You’ll find people like red,” she told her softly. “It’s an attention grabber. It’s very sexy. Especially on you.”
It was only after Lucy stepped back and adjusted this pole that was stuck in her ass that Nina realized she was posed in the main window of Frederick’s.
She was on display.
Nina was freaking. She was saying, No, no, no, over and over, but it was no use. She was the only one who could hear her screaming, her sobbing, her pleading.
She saw a grin upon Lucy's lips. She spoke. "You're probably wondering why," Lucy said. She was almost whispering. "There's no reason. You showed up. I liked the way you looked. You have . . . poise. Which, considering you current condition, is very important."
Lucy moved closer and placed her right hand upon Nina's semi-bare buttock. Though from Nina's standpoint it felt like something soft and warm against her plastic skin, and despite her panic, she felt a slight arousal from this touch. As Lucy began to stroke her fingers about she said, "You're completely immobile, and yet . . . you can feel. You can sense. You'll hear and see and . . . while you'll likely hate your existence, it won't be without some fulfillment . . . like . . .."
Lucy slipped her left hand under the crotch of the teddy and placed her fingers where Nina's clitoris should have been on her now smooth, hairless groin. And the familiar feeling that Nina would get whenever she touched it, or someone else touched it . . . it was back. It grew as Lucy gently rubbed the area. Though nothing was there, it felt like it was— and what Nina felt was growing by the second. I can't fucking believe this! she thought. I'm a fucking statue and I'm going to have an orgasm! Lucy was rubbing Nina's ass as well, her fingers lightly covering the spot where her anus should be, bring even more erotic sensations to bear.
Nina wished she could moan. She wished she could squirm. She wished she could wrap her arms around Lucy and kiss her deeply. But she couldn’t. All she could do was feel the orgasm build and think, Please, Lucy, free me and lets make love. She knew she'd be screaming with pleasure right now if she were alive . . . if she weren't this mannequin in the window of Frederick's modeling an outfit for guys to buy for their wives on their anniversary.
And just when she was almost ready to cum; when the orgasm was nearly at its peak . . . that's when Lucy stopped. And she did so with a sly smile. Oh, you fucking bitch! Nina gasped. You know! You goddamn well KNOW!
Lucy turned away without a sound. Nina hear her footsteps recede. Eventually she heard a door close somewhere in the back.
She was alone.
And wishing she could cum. The orgasm wasn't going away. It was there, it was right there, and she wanted to finish it off, she wanted to explode, but Nina couldn't. Her hands wouldn't respond she couldn't bring her legs together and squeeze herself until her clitoris gave it up.
On one hand it was an incredible sensation, being in a perpetual state of arousal, nearly climaxing, letting the moment stretch out . . . forever . . ..
On the other hand, Nina wondered how much time would pass before this drove her insane?
Nina spent the night in a daze. She knew she fell asleep, but time didn't seem to mean much to her. One moment she was staring out on the darkened mall concourse; the next there was a dim light filtering through the overhead skylights. The sensation Lucy had left her with hadn't dissipated, and though she begged for some kind of sexual release, she knew she was now at the sadistic mercy of another.
Someone came in later and opened the store; a skinny black girl with an amazing bubble butt. She gave Nina a quick glance, mumbling, "Lucy sure knows how to pick out the nice ones." Nina wondered if the girl knew about what Lucy had done to her— if she knew of others like her. She noticed for the first time the other mannequin in the window with her, the blond wearing the sexy maid's outfit. Nina wondered if that girl was experiencing the same feelings she was . . . and how long she'd been in the window.
People began coming into the mall . . . Nina could see them just fine. People walking by, some looking up to glance at her, a few stopping to examine her outfit in detail. She wished she could scream, Hey, I'm really a person! I'm not plastic, I'm a real girl! It wasn't going to happen. The more she wanted to reach out and tap the glass every time someone stopped to look at her, the more she knew how impossible that action was.
She passed time groaning in her head and watching the things people did when they looked at her. There was the guy who licked his lips. The two women who seemed pissed off that someone would buy the trash she was wearing. The teenage boy with the obvious erection. The twenty-something girl who discreetly rubbed her breasts as she stared at Nina's sexless crotch. A parts of Nina was disgusted, but another part amazed. She couldn't believe she could actually turn people on. She was an object, something that wasn't real. And yet . . ..
People would come into the store, but she could only see them in the window's reflection. The store was very busy— Nina didn't realize this many people were buying lingerie. She'd never given it any thought. She wondered if anyone was giving her any thought. If anyone was starting to wonder where Nina was. Probably not. She didn't have many friends, and since losing her job she'd cut off a lot of contact with the few she had. Perfect, she thought. I'm exactly the sort of person who could have something like this happen to them; no job, no friends, no fucking life. Before it started growing dark she knew the likelihood of someone finding her in this window were slim to none.
She saw the black girl —Mandy— standing next to her in the window, watching the people walking past. She looked sad, but Nina was thinking that if she really wanted to feel sad they should trade places. Suddenly Mandy's hand was on Nina's butt . . . and the girl was rubbing it! Mandy had this naughty look on her face as she stroked Nina's ass, running her nails across it, patting it, trying to pinch the unmoving plastic. Nina wanted to be outraged . . . but she couldn't, because she was overcome by the most intense orgasm she'd ever experienced. That was all Nina needed; a few light touches from Mandy's fingers and she had her release. If she hadn't been turned into a mannequin with a piece of metal holding her up, Nina would have fallen to the ground as she blacked out. When she came to Mandy was gone, and the girls who'd started in the afternoon looked like they were getting the store ready for closing.
Nina didn't see Lucy again until her fourth day in the window. She came in late in the afternoon and stayed until closing. She looked in on Nina when she arrived, but said nothing. That night after closing Lucy undressed Nina and took her apart, separating her torso from her hips and pulling her head off. Like the last time there was no pain, but Nina could feel each of her parts even though they weren't attached. Lucy was putting black stockings over her legs and a pair of boots on her feet when she started talking. "How you doing, Nina?" She looked at her head as if she expected to hear Nina screaming How the hell do you think I'm doing, Bitch? "Are you enjoying the attention? All the adulation? Do you wonder if people are using you as a fantasy when they go home to masturbate?"
Nina couldn't believe she was hearing this shit. Nina wasn't feeling any of that; she was slowly feeling her mind slip away. She was begin to realize that this was her life, that all she would ever be is this thing. She wasn't happy. She wanted to cry. She wanted to die.
Lucy put her in a merry widow, black panties and silk opera gloves, then put her together and placed a blond pageboy wig on her head. Llike before, she felt her up, getting her horny and aroused . . . and as before she stopped short of letting Nina cum. Standing in the window again, Nina felt the tears flowing in her mind, wondering if this would ever end.
A week became two, then three, then a month . . . and Nina was still in the window, still watching, still being dressed and brought to near orgasm by Lucy— and being released by Mandy.
Nina figured she understood Lucy, but Mandy . . . Mandy was something else. The girl loved touching her. Feeling her. And on those nights when she closed up and no one was around— that's when the shit got strange.
At the end of the month Mandy closed, but only after Lucy had given her instructions to redress Nina. After everything was closed down Mandy took her apart, but rather than dress her in the store she took her to stockroom.
Only she didn't dress the mannequin. Mandy put Nina back together, but left her naked except for heels and a blond wig. She walked around Nina slowly, looking at her. This went on for five minutes with Mandy saying nothing. Suddenly, she stepped up to Nina and gently kissed her on the lips.
Nina wondered why she was doing this. Not that she was complaining. Lucy . . . that freakin' bitch was sadistic. But Mandy . . . she seemed— this was really strange to say, but she was nice to her. Mandy talked to her in the store, touched her, and got her off when she was really in need . . . and now; now she was kissing her.
Nina really wished she could respond. Then again, it didn't seem like Mandy cared.
She pulled back and touched Nina's smooth left breast. There was no nipple, although to Nina it felt as if the nipple had never disappeared. With her other hand she caressed Nina's crotch.
Despite wanting to feel dirty, Nina didn't. She was feeling— wanting. Sure, she was a mannequin, but somehow Mandy was making her feel . . . oh, fuck it! It didn't matter how she made her feel; Mandy was using her for a sex toy. She was getting off playing with a mannequin. Nina could hear her breathing quickening, the movement of her fingers growing more frantic. She was getting herself off.
Mandy suddenly stepped back and pulled off her skirt and panties. Standing before Nina, she began masturbating, her eyes never leaving Nina's face. She was panting, "I want . . . I want . . . I want you." Over and over. She slowly dropped to her knees and leaned back, her legs spread as she pulled her pussy open and fingered her vagina hard. She screamed when she came.
Mandy stood up looking dazed. She put her fingers to Nina's mouth and rubbed her sent into her lips. Nina could taste the other girl's scent. "God, I wish you were real," she whispered. "I wish I could be with you." After that she took her back to the store and prepared her, putting her in a tiger-print dress that Nina had to admit looked pretty sexy on her. When she was finished Mandy kissed her left hand and said, "Good night, beautiful."
And with that she was gone.
Nina didn't know what to say. Mandy obviously had a fetish that Nina could somehow fulfill. The girl saw her for what she was: an unfeeling model that couldn’t respond to her touch. But still; that was what Mandy wanted, apparently. Nina was her dream girl, the one she couldn't have, the one who would never say anything unkind about her.
She wished she didn't have to deal with this, but what else could she do?
As she gazed upon the darkened mall, she fought to keep one thought out of her head—
At least someone cares for me.