Crying and screaming, the five topless pantyhose models exited the basement stairway and ran into the living room of the swamp witch's house. Emiliu especially considered herself lucky, since she thought her earlier slip had ensured her capture. But she had made it, they all had made it . . . .

And then heard Arietta cry out for help. Bonnie rushed back toward the stairs, but the door slammed in her face, then locked tight from within. The leggy brunette with short straight brown hair turned and pulled on the door knob, but to no avail. "How did she do that?" Bonnie cried. "She wasn't even on the stairs?"

"The same way she dissolved our clothes, and underwear, and heels," Emiliu answered, "she is some kind of witch. And now she has Arietta."

"We have got to get out of here!" said DonnaJo, as she headed for the front door. But Franny grabbed her arm and held her back. "We don't have a van anymore, remember?" Franny was referring to the quicksand into which the van had sunk a short time earlier.

"And besides, we've got to help Arietta," Bonnie offered, with Christi beside her nodding.

"God only knows what's happened to her," DonnaJo argued. "She may be a frog, or a slave, or boiling in some cauldron by now." Franny sensed that Bonnie and DonnaJo were close to blows by now, and Emiliu was just getting more scared. "We need a plan," the part-time model offered. "We need a way out of here, and we need to see if we can help Arietta."

Everyone finally agreed, and the girls decided to split up. DonnaJo and Franny would search outside to see if there were any other means of transportation around the grounds. Bonnie, Christi, and Emiliu would search inside the house for a way to get to the basement, and a weapon to use once they got there. The two blondes headed out the front door, and the inside crew formed some plans.

Bonnie thought the three should split up - two downstairs, and one up, looking for a key to the basement door and something to use against the old woman. But Emiliu was too frightened to be by herself, so she and Christi headed for the kitchen to look for a knife or some other possible weapon. Bonnie would search the downstairs rooms for a way to open the basement stairs door.

After quickly looking on tables in the living room, Bonnie decided to venture into a drawing room near the stairwell. She hoped to find a desk, or maybe a wall hook - someplace the witch would be likely to keep a key. Of course, the brunette beauty also thought to herself that if she really was a witch, why would she need a key at all. But she had to think positive.

Bonnie padded lightly into the room on her stockinged feet, and stopped immediately once inside the door. This room appeared to be more like a gallery, or show room, than a typical drawing room. There were all kinds of objects d'art throughout the room. Paintings and wall hangings decorated each side of the room. Small and large figurines were found on stands and tables, some even on small pedestals. Even the lamp bases were carved figures.

But as Bonnie approached one of the lamps, she wondered if 'carved' was the right word. It was a dark mahogany figure, but the detail of the figure in the wood was amazingly realistic. A raised afro hairdo, long lean legs, well shaped breasts. And one strange detail in particular: there was a wooden hoop earring hanging from each ear. This wasn't a carving. This lamp had once been a beautiful black visitor to the witch's house, and now a permanent resident. Probably like Arietta, now in the witch's clutches in the basement. And if they didn't find a way to escape, they would all wind up in the witch's collection.

Bonnie decided to go get Christi and Emiliu, and get outside of this house right now. She decided to avoid the many figurines and statuettes dotting the tables and stands, and walked to the side of the room to circle her way out. But as she stepped on one of the large floor rugs against the wall, she felt a funny tingle in her feet. When she looked down to see if she had perhaps stepped on an insect, she saw something very strange. The fabric strands of the rug seemed to moving, all up and down the carpet. It was such a strange sight, she stood still for a moment fascinated. That moment was a fateful, because by the time she realized her danger, it was too late.

The moving rug fibers began to weave themselves together with the strands of nylon in her pantyhosed feet. "Hey, what the . . ." Bonnie called out, and tried to lift her foot, but it was completely stitched to the rug. The model tried to at least move her other foot off the rug, but she was too late. She looked down to see strands of carpet moving within the nylon webbing covering her feet.

"Oh, God, no! Christi! Emiliu! Help me!" Bonnie called out, and then she felt a small stab of pain in both feet, and realized that the joint strands of carpet fiber and pantyhose nylon were beginning to go into the skin of her foot. She tried grabbing her right foot and pulling it loose, but it caused her to lose her balance, and she fell to her knees on the rug. Immediately, the carpet began weaving its way into the nylon of her shins and knees. As frightening as that process was, it was a look back at her feet that caused the beautiful model to scream aloud. Her beautiful nylon feet were no longer to distinct shapes intertwined with fibers. They had lost their third dimension, and were now completely part of the rug - a cross-stitched illustration of two lovely, nylon encased female feet.

Emiliu and Christi were having no luck finding any knives in the kitchen, when they first heard Bonnie call out. Christi said they should go see what's happening, but Emiliu didn't want to go until they had found a knife or something to protect themselves with. Bonnie's subsequent scream convinced Christi their friend needed help, and told Emiliu to stay behind and go outside if she wasn't back soon.

Bonnie's scream brought another visitor to the drawing room. The swamp witch. Christi saw the old woman exit the stairs and head for the drawing room as she started out of the kitchen. She followed slowly at a distance to see what was going on.

By now, the lower half of Bonnie's legs were completely flat, and completely carpet. When she heard someone enter the room, she called out "Help me," and then screamed when she saw it was the old woman.

"I'll do what I can," cackled the old woman, and walked up to the trapped girl, rubbing her gnarled hands upwards on Bonnie's nyloned thighs. Immediately, the panicked girl felt the waistband of her pantyhose began to stretch upwards, until it covered her breasts, extended out her arms to her fingertips, and even enveloped her face and short brown hair.

"Now, let's get you posed properly," the old woman said, and waved her hands hypnotically back and forth in front of Bonnie's face. Panic and fear turned first to a look of stunned surprise, and then a calm, accepting, even pleasurable stare. Bonnie laid her nylon covered body gently down on the rug, curving her upper legs, with her rear pointing out, one hand covering her breasts, and the other arm and hand extended above her head.

The rug and nylon combined up the length of the model's body, and the magical fibers did their work quickly. In moments, there was only the two dimensional portrait of a sexy and voluptous young woman covered from head to toe in nylon. Bonnie was no longer a pantyhose model. She was now a very sexy and alluring wall hanging.

Just as with Arietta, Bonnie's transformed body still moved and shuddered with pleasure at intervals. There was no way to bake Bonnie into permanent position however.

Then the witch had an idea. She walked over to one of the cabinets, reached inside, and pulled out an aerosole can. She returned to Bonnie's side, and began to spray the contents of the can up and down the length of the girl's carpeted body. There were a few more shudders, and then Bonnie's transformed body was completely still. The model was now completely rug.

The swamp witch held up the can. "I guess the ads are right. This Scotchgard works great?" She laughed out loud, and then waved her hand once more. The top of the carpet slid up the wall, and fastened itself on and unused hook. The witch reached with her fingernail and made a writing motion at the bottom right of the hanging. When she removed her hand, the title "Nylon Carpet" remained behind.

Bonnie was indeed now part of the witch's collection.

The swamp witch heard a shriek from the doorway, and then the sound of nylon feet running away. She sighed, "Ahh, a swamp witch's work is never done." And she walked out of the room to deal with the next pantyhosed beauty. . . .
 
 

-To be continued.