Private Showing

by dmuk


ÒQuite a kinky little setup youÕve got here,Ó the 20-ish young woman remarked as she strolled slowly among the posed figures, each a motionless female dressed provocatively.  She was cute in an impish way, with freckles across the bridge of her pixie nose and ginger-hued hair twirled into a loose bun at the back of her head.  Clad in a stylish print wrap-around dress with a wide leather belt, she looked like an office worker or academic.

Classical stringed music played softly in the background, giving the vast room a museum-like ambiance, as did the occasional short gray pedestals and platforms upon which some of the unbelievably life-like sculptures stood or reclined or sat gracefully.  The majority were posed freestanding or resting fetchingly against furniture and the walls of the vast ornate room.  Barely clothed, they all looked like they had simply paused for an instant of frozen time that had never resumed.   The effect was more than a little disturbing.

ÒSorry; I didnÕt catch your name?Ó her middle-aged host prodded.  He was dressed casually, in jeans and an untucked shirt that failed to improve his nebbishy appearance.

ÒElise Parsons, but you can call me Ellie.   When I responded to your ad looking for figure models, I had no idea you were intoÉ this.  What did you do to them?Ó

She approached one, a lissome, petite, short-haired blonde who looked about her own age, clothed in wisps of golden lace lingerie that emphasized her tanned near-nakedness more than masking it.  The immobilized figure stood with her weight on one leg, resting one hand on her flared hip; the other arm was raised behind her head to highlight the contour of her modest breasts.  The sexy statue gazed into the void with an unblinking blankness that was perhaps the most unsettling aspect of all.

ÒAinÕt sayinÕ,Ó the man said, Òbut itÕs my own creation.  All natural too!  Well, mostlyÉÓ he added with a wry smile.

Elise touched the shoulder of the nearest figure, running her finger along the smooth skin of the immobilized model casually, gauging her temperature and firmness, then pausing to grasp a wrist lightly to confirm the slow but steady pulse.  This girl was not just cataleptic.

 ÒThey do look quite beautiful donÕt they, Ellie?Ó the middle-aged man observed obliquely.  ÒI like to think IÕve done my part to preserve some tiny bit of allure in this increasingly sordid world.Ó  He sipped leisurely from a goblet of wine as he appraised his splendid collection and his attractive visitor. 

 ÒAlthough youÕre the only one whoÕs appreciating their beauty, arenÕt you?   These models certainly arenÕt able to do much at all.Ó  She waved her hand in front of the pretty blondeÕs vacant eyes, getting as much reaction as she would have from a plastic mannequin: none.  After a momentary reflection, the young visitor continued her examination of the bizarre collection, trying to maintain her own composure and avoid tipping her hand.

Undetected by his cautious gaze, hidden by a coy smile, she quickly touched her tongue to the roof of her mouth in a prearranged sequence to alert the rest of the team:  RÉSÉG;  
Ready Steady GoÉ

He continued, ÒPerhaps not in the same way, but they find that participating in my little art project has its own rewards as well as other joys.Ó

ÒWhat do you mean?  From what I can tell, these girls are all as stiff and cold as a bunch of waxworks.Ó

ÒTrue enough, for now, but they were not always this way, nor will they be in the future.  When each finishes her contribution, sheÕs free to resume her life however she chooses, considerably richer and comparatively younger for her time spent here.  Not surprisingly, many choose to remain.  Observe.Ó 

He walked away purposefully; the young woman followed, curious.  They shortly came to an exhibit of a more mature, but still lovely, woman who was ÒdressedÓ in an airy fishnet bodysuit that concealed nothing of her spectacularly tall supermodel figure.  The statueÕs hair and makeup were exquisitely done, making it look as if sheÕd stepped from a courtierÕs fashion runway.

ÒTake Linda 'E' here, for example.  She had an excellent career a few years back, faded from view when styles changed and fresh faces appeared, but has recently made something of a comebackÉÓ

The young woman gasped; the motionless figure before her had one of the most stunning, gorgeous and recognizable faces on the planet, having appeared in countless video and print ads.  Now, here she stood like a vision of timelessness.

ÒAh, yes,Ó the man continued, ÒYou do recognize her.  But you probably never suspected she has already spent several years with me exactly as you see her now; ageless, timeless while sheÕs posed here.  You see, IÕm not just your garden-variety pervertÉÓ

ÒCan I talk to her?Ó Ellie almost gushed; this supermodel had been one of her idols when she was growing up, with posters of her on the wall and everything.

ÒSadly, not right now.  LindaÕs set to revive later this year, in time for Paris Fashion Week.  However, I did anticipate your question.  Follow me, please,Ó he continued, walking away from her again. 

The young woman had to rush to catch up as they threaded their way among the exhibits.   There had to be almost a hundred lovely statue-still models here, posed in a multitude of attractive stances and expressions.  There were sultry sirens in shape-enhancing tight-laced satin corsets and stretchy bustiers, exotic vixens in near-transparent see-through gowns, saucy ladies posed in traditional maid, ballerina, and harem outfits, along with the more modern Lycra, vinyl, and leather ensembles.  Their striking display presentations also varied from vintage pin-up splendor to static catalog groupings to sleek dance stagings to avant-garde punk and anime settings with varicolored lighting.

Further back, a few small dioramas had been created, little stationary scenes occupied by several motionless models.   Here, too, were a scattering of completely nude figures in a variety of tasteful artistic poses.  Ellie had barely time to glimpse these as she followed the man through a black velvet curtain into a work area that looked to be a mixture of dressing room and hospital examination bay.  Racks of skimpy clothes rested along one wall next to a make-up mirror ringed by bare bulbs, another wall was entirely a floor-to-ceiling mirror, while a wheeled gurney bed, IV-stand and green oxygen tanks occupied most of the far corner.  There were several of the gray-painted platforms and posing stands scattered around. The dais in the center of the room was occupied by another mannequin-still young woman.

This model was dark-haired, with and oval face, beautifully arched eyebrows and perfect lips.  Her figure seemed a little fuller than was typical for most lingerie models, though she was excellently proportioned and displayed her simple pearl-white bikini bra-and-panty set beautifully.  On her legs were white thigh-high stay-up stockings and she perched on what had to be four-inch heels.  Like the others, this living statue was as stiff as a board.

He continued, ÒAlonna has been on display for the past three months and itÕs time for her to take a break, see her family and friends, though of course to her no time has passed.Ó  While talking, he filled a small hypodermic syringe with milky liquid, squirted out any air bubbles before picking out a spot within the butterfly tattoo on the young womanÕs curvy backside and smoothly performing the injection.  There was no change.   ÒIt will just be a minute,Ó he supplied in response to EllieÕs raised eyebrow.

As the seconds passed, nothing seemed to be happening.  AlonnaÕs face remained a rigid, beautiful, pale mask.  Then her eyes widened, her lashes fluttered, followed by a couple quick blinks just as her ample chest rose with her first gasps of breaths that sounded almost like moans, quickly changing to the usual slow cadence.  She glanced around as her body seemed to gradually unfreeze; she lowered her arms from the pose she had been holding and shifted her feet.

ÒWelcome back,Ó the man greeted her.  ÒHow are you feeling?Ó

ÒOK!Ó she grinned.  ÒThat vasÉ vowÉ really zometingÉÓ Alonna spoke with a murky Eastern European accent.   ÒDid look alright?Ó

ÒYou were excellent, as lovely a vision as you are now.Ó

The unfrozen model took a few wobbly steps, steadying herself on his arm for a moment before regaining her balance.  She circled back to face Ellie after taking a few sips of water from a bottle of spring water on a nearby table.  ÒAnd zu whom do I owe zis pleasurr?Ó

ÒOh; sorry, Alonna.  IÕm not used to having you talk back!  Ellie, here, is thinking of modeling for me.  But after seeing my gallery, she understandably has a few questions.Ó

ÒOf course.  It is not most normal zing.  Ask me vhateverÉÓ  She smiled warmly.

Elise briefly blushed, at a loss for words.  What do you ask someone who was just a statue?   ÒUm, what does being frozen feel like?Ó she finally ventured.

ÒZat issÉ complicated, for everyvun zeem to feel someting different.  For me, za beginning iss like being wrapped in a pile of fuzzy blankets to vhere I cannot move at all, zen falling to sleep.   At the vaking up I am happy, cozy inside, as after a night of really good zex.Ó  she smiled again with the memory.  Ellie blushed again.  ÒVhell, you asked!Ó The lingerie-clad beauty shrugged.  ÒIn between, zhere is nothingÉÓ

ÒI see.  YouÕre beautiful woman, probably with a lot of friends and acquaintances.  Why do you let yourself be turned into a statue by this man for weeks at a time?  IsnÕt there anything better to do with your life?Ó

Alonna chucked,  ÒYou have obviously not discussed zee compensation!  I have found to being more than fair exchange for my time.  In zhese days, catalog modeling is not so very regular job.  Besides, I can take time-out vhile zat skank Dierdre Shaeffer gets older.Ó

ÒOK, can I ask one more?  Do you trust him while youÕre posed?  After all, youÕve become nothing more than a helpless mannequin?Ó

ÒOf course!   However, zhere vas aÉÓ the model hesitated.

ÒThanks, Alonna, why donÕt you go ahead and get changed?   IÕve placed your check in the locker with your personal items.  IÕll handle anything more here.Ó

ÒAs you prefer.Ó  She turned and strutted to the dressing room portion of the workroom as the man ushered Ellie back into the gallery, where the eye-catching immobilized onlookers could not hear or see or speak.

ÒThat was very helpfulÉÓ Ellie began with a wry smile.

ÒWho are you?Ó he demanded abruptly.

ÒI told you:  Elise Parsons; I saw your ad forÉÓ

ÒWho are you, really

ÒOh.  Well, I also report for the Wonkette Gazette blog, butÉÓ

ÒYou thought youÕd make a name for yourself, by doing a story on me and my pastime?Ó

ÒYes, at first. ButÉÓ

ÒLeave!Ó he seethed.

ÒIf you want me to, but please just listen for a moment!Ó The man said nothing, simply glaring at the impertinent young woman.  She went on, ÒAt first your ÉhobbyÉ seemed too odd to be true but I started doing research, talked to a couple of your earlier models and their stories jived.   I figured if anyone could drive the creation of a concoction that induces suspended animation youÕd be the one, with your unique desires and resources.  ThatÕs when I decided to check you out myself, give your tech a test drive, so to speak.Ó

ÒWho are you really?Ó

ÒFor that answer, youÕll have to trust me, for at least a month.  You see, IÕm also not just your garden-variety victim.Ó She thought about telling him that when younger she wished to become King MidasÕ daughter, or about freeze-posing in store windows during her late teens, but decided not to.  Yet.  ÒNow, make me one of your statues for thirty daysÉÓ

ÒAfter that interview with Alonna, you still want toÉ.?Ó

ÒOh, yes!  She just confirmed what the others had said.  YouÕre a little shy, but not any kind of perv.   Basically, harmless.Ó

ÒGreatÉÓ

ÒDonÕt be upset; thatÕs a good thing in your case.  It means that I donÕt have to kill you,Ó she said, straight-faced, then adding a moment later: ÒKidding.Ó  But was she?

ÒHow do you know that once youÕre suspended IÕm not going to have my way with you?Ó he prodded.

ÒHow do you know that I wonÕt enjoy it?Ó

That caught him off guard.   ÒYouÉ would?Ó

ÒMaybe.Ó

Another nut job, he was thinking. ÒYou have a very unusual outlook, Miz Parsons,Ó he mumbled, recovering a little of his composure. ÒÉas well as an uncommon degree of trust for someone in your circumstances.Ó

ÒDonÕt worry about it,Ó she smiled enigmatically.  ÒIf I canÕt kill you, my associates will.Ó

He decided not to play into her fantasy. ÒOK, then. Did you bring a change of clothes, or do you want to check the rack?Ó he asked, glancing towards the work area for a moment, then heard the ripping sound of Velcro. 

When he turned back, EllieÕs outer garments were in a heap at her feet that she stepped away from, her figure revealed in black filigree and seamless pantyhose.  ÒI trust this will be acceptable?Ó she smiled coyly, pulling the pins from her hair and letting the coppery curls cascade over her shoulders.  Slipping out of her business heels, she pulled a set of stilettos from her bag and stepped into them.  In seconds she had transformed herself.

ÒYes, that willÉ do,Ó he gulped.   He hadnÕt expected her to have a toned athleteÕs body; she already looked like a sculpture come to life.

ÒSo whatÕs next?  You gonna stick me in the butt with a needle?Ó

ÒThatÕs not necessary; though you do need to ingest the deactivator.  Shall we return to the workroom?  Alonna should have let herself out by now.Ó

ÒNo, IÕd like to stay here.  I want to beÉ inspired.  Go ahead and get what you need; I can wait a couple minutes longer.Ó  Ellie gravitated towards the spotlighted cornice where her favorite supermodel stood, silent and regal.

Some time later he returned holding a tall glass filled with what looked like a thistle-hued protein shake to find her there, trying out poses.  Whatever else she did, Ellie Parsons knew how to show off her physique.  ÒAre you ready?Ó he prompted.

ÒI think soÉ how do I look?Ó she primped.

Why do women have to ask.  ÒYouÕre dazzling, of course.  Here, drink this down as quickly as you can; donÕt sip it.  The deactivator takes effect pretty quickly, especially with someone whoÕs never used it beforeÉÓ

ÒOKÉÓ  Ellie took a few gulps, then paused to observe:  ÒTastes really icky, like lavender chalk?Ó  She continued to drink, more slowly.

ÒKeep going!Ó he urged her.

ÒOhÉ now, that feels strange,Ó she said after a few more swallows.  ÒDoÉ.?Ó Ellie began to say, then her next word hung on her lips as her lithe body froze in place, as still as if someone hit pause on a video.

ÒYes, I think that means itÕs taken effect; nite-nite EllieÓ he chuckled, taking the glass from her stiffened fingers and wiping her mouth clean with a paper napkin.  Knowing he had limited time, he quickly shifted her upright stance into more of a typical lingerie pose, sliding one leg out ahead of the other as if she were stepping forward and tilting her hips.  Her arms were arranged so it looked like she had been slightly surprised.  It would be their little joke for the next few weeks. 

A hundred fifty meters away, inside a nondescript van parked across the street, EllieÕs handler jumped up, tore off his headset, and raced for the rear door, gun drawn.

ÒMister Parkes, return to your station,Ó the agent in charge commanded.  ÒNow!Ó

ÒBut, sheÕs flatlining!Ó the young man objected, his hand on the latch handle.

ÒThat is part of her assignment, or did you miss that portion of the briefing?  We have to be sure the compound is in fact effective and not some petty parlor trick of hypnosis.Ó

ÒShe could dieÉÓ

ÒHighly unlikely; if you were watching her vitals instead of running off half-cocked youÕd see her life signs are low yet stable.  Sit back down and try not to be such a cowboy.Ó

 

Unaware of the trap he had just fallen into, the collector was totally focused on his latest lovely model.  Grasping her slim wrist, he felt her pulse slowing to a nearly imperceptible rate as her breathing stilled.  Rummaging in EllieÕs shoulder bag, he found lipstick and fixed her smudged makeup so sheÕd look her best on display. From the pocket of his jeans he produced a long strand of gleaming pearls that he draped around her slim neck and across her torso, then decided to loop over one of her outstretched hands.  After another few minutes, her body was stiff enough so he could carry EllieÕs posed figure to a nicer location while she remained as rigid as a mannequin.

ÒYou were right about my not being good around active people, of course,Ó he confided to her vacant blue-eyed gaze as he caressed her firm cool skin, letting out a sigh of relief that she hadnÕt agreed with him or done anything other than remain there as a lovely living statue.  He leisurely admired the curve of EllieÕs slender waist and the way her dark stockings hugged her shapely legs. She was delicious to look at. Later on, heÕd contemplate removing the rest of her lacy undergarments.

Thirty days was too brief a time to enjoy Elise Parsons, but heÕd try to make the best of it.

 

Continues in Part 2


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