“I can’t believe this!” the bodacious Jenny yelled into her cell-phone. “What a load of bull-puckey; you call this a photoshoot?”
“Eaasy, bay-bee,” her agent tried to calm the star down. “It’s a legitimate gig; meaning they paid your up-front fee and the spread is going to run in a national magazine. One that doesn’t have to be sold in a plastic bag, might I add.”
“But, but, the photographer is just a … kid, and I’m posing with a bunch of dummies?” she continued, slightly less upset.
“Hey, everyone has to get their start somehow; remember your first appearances?”
“Oh. Yeah,” she admitted.
“So, give it a shot; if the photos don’t go anywhere, you’ve still got the advance cashed.”
“Alright, but I’d feel better if my people were prepping me,” Jenny protested weakly. Her finances hadn’t been that good lately as her name faded from public awareness and her appearance schedule emptied.
“Just go with the flow, babe; this is the twenty-first century. Just be glad they didn’t green-screen in some old footage of you into the scene instead. You don’t want folks to start saying ‘Whatever happened to Jenny…?’
“Isn’t that your job, Solly? Get me back on TV; I’d even do a reality show at this point..”
“You got it, baby. See ya; be beautiful,” the agent agreed then ended the call before the temperamental star started unloading on him.
Jenny closed the phone, taking a few deep breaths. That hadn’t gone at all how she wanted.
“Everything, ah, going, ah, OK, for the, ah, shoot?” came a hesitant, almost-stuttering voice from around the corner. It was her “photographer” for this session, a pimply-faced kid who looked barely out of high school. He edged into view, eyes connecting with the voluptuous Jenny somewhere between her collarbone and bellybutton.
“Sure; just peachy,” she shot back sarcastically. “Your check didn’t bounce and my soulless toady of an agent thinks this is gonna help my image. So, let’s do it.” Jenny said without enthusiasm. “Oh, and Stewie, I’m up here,” remarked cattily, her hand drawing his gaze up from her breasts. God, I swear I’m being punked! she was thinking; if Ashton pops out from the bathroom with a video crew now he’s gonna lose his cojones…
“Excellent, of course, Miss McCarty. I was, ah, just looking for lighting forms.”
“Sure you were, Stewie.”
“It’s, ah, StewART, by the way. Since I am, ah, paying for you to model today, the least you can do is, ah, use my proper name. Please?”
“Alright… Stewart; where do you want me to pose?” Jenny conceded, while thinking, I’d call you the fricking Queen of Egypt if it would get me out of here any quicker!
"The, ah, changing area is over there behind the, ah, curtain. You’ll find a selection of, ah, lingerie there in your size. I’m, ah, pretty sure.”
“What, you got my measurements off the internet?” What a perv..
“I actually, ah, received them from your stylist, and obtained garment samples from Veronica’s Secret since you, ah, used to represent them.”
“Oh. Ok, thanks Stewi… Stewart. You don’t have to rub it in, though,” she replied, a bit miffed.
The dressing area was small but there was a mirror set up, along with the promised rack of clothes. An outfit marked ‘#1 - wear this one first’ was a leopard-print bikini, trimmed in black lace. Jenny started to undress, leaving her Prada bag next to the table. Her jeans and top went over the back of the chair, while she put her bra, panties, and hose into her bag and zipped it shut. Slipping into the bikini bottoms, she found they fit like a glove, as did the matching half-bra. She was reaching behind her back to fasten the hooks when Stewart’s voice sounded from just on the other side of the translucent screen.
“Would you, ah, like some, ah, help with that?” he asked, in that reedy halting voice that reminded her of an old Peter Lorre movie.
“NO!” she shouted, a bit too strongly. He was watching me? “I’m… fine. Don’t you have some lights to get arranged, or something? I’ll be another few minutes.”
“Excellent; whenever you are, ah, composed. The set is at, ah, the far end of my studio.” He said as his footsteps receded.
Jenny found her hands were shaking slightly, making it more difficult to put on her photo make-up and freshen the loose curls in her blonde hair. She thought about calling her agent again and telling him the whole thing was off, but the phone was in her bag and even though the kid seemed creepy he hadn’t tried anything weird with her. Besides, I’m bigger than he is, and I work out too…
Some minutes later, she made her way through the loft studio, past an unrolled sheet of white background and some posing cubes, to where a series of random flashes told her Stewie’s photo set was located. The light seemed to be coming from inside a different room, behind an open door.
“Hey, what is this?” she protested as she turned the corner and found herself entering a bedroom; not a bedroom set, an actual room. There was a sink along one wall and piles of books and clothes on the side not facing the camera and lights. The bed, tables, and floor were occupied by several pale, bald, plastic mannequins; both male and female. Most of the still figures were clothed in lingerie and briefs, some in nylon stockings, but a few were completely naked.
“Well, it’s about time,” Stewart groused from behind the camera. “The girls were about ready to start without you.”
“You want me to pose with… a bunch of painted window dummies?” Jenny gasped.
“Of course,” the photographer beamed, “that’s the whole, ah, point. It’s a contrast study, really, with you as the, ah, genuine article so to speak and the, ah, mannequins representing the unbelievable unattainable, ah, ultimate. You see?”
“Not really, Stewart, but I don’t have to. All I need to do is pose where you want me to and look pretty. The rest is up to you and that camera.” Oh, heavens, why isn’t Ashton here already? This has got to be the strangest photo set I've ever done...
“Yes, ah, I guess that’s true. If you’re ready, sit on the bed and, ah, interact with the reclining figure whose back is to me. We’ll, ah, go on from there.” Stewart would have sounded much more convincing if he didn’t have the obvious bulge of an erection tenting the front of his pants. “Slip off your, ah, heels, too; I don’t want to mark up the sheets.”
“As you say; let me know when you’re ready,” Jenny sighed, wishing this was just… over and wondering again if this was a legitimate shoot or whether Stewie here had scraped up her fee from his paper-route earnings. WhatEVER; money is money…
She climbed up onto the bed, jostling the stiff figures of the mannequins, but not enough so their jointed arms or legs changed position. Their surfaces were hard and smooth, painted in a shade that no real person ever possessed. Jenny’s beach tan was very distinct in comparison.
Each mannequin’s still face was made up like they were going to a party, though, and their vacant eyes were the strangest features. The eyes seemed to glow briefly after every flash, when they weren’t staring right through you.
The photographer, Stewart, seemed to be more at home behind the camera as his stutter vanished while he instructed his living model in different poses and expressions. It was as if she was less real when seen through the viewfinder than when standing in front of him.
The best shot of the first set was one of Jenny straddling one mannequin’s waist while grabbing the dummy’s plastic ass with one hand and bald head with the other. Jenny was making love to the camera again, no matter who was pressing the trigger.
“OK, ah, Miss Jenny, that’s enough for that costume. Change into, ah, number two and we’ll do some more back here, then finish on the, ah, seamless.”
“Give me a couple of minutes, and DON’T come around to peep on me, please; I can dress myself,” Jenny replied, stepping off the bed and into her high-heeled shoes. They made clicking sounds on the wood floor as she walked back to the curtained area.
A few seconds after Jenny was out of hearing, Stewart said to no one in particular, “Isn’t she great? I knew she’d be absolutely perfect!” Then he began cleaning his lenses, humming an abstract tune.
Behind the dressing curtain, Jenny was practicing her deep breathing. Costume item #2 was a red and black satin corselet with matching panties that hugged her figure extremely closely and gave her figure a dazzling hourglass shape. By exhaling almost completely, she was able to fasten the top and bottom closures on the front as she worked her way slowly towards the center, which was the hardest to fasten. After a couple of tries, it finally snapped shut, though Jenny almost passed out at the same time. She hoped that by the time came to take it off, her waist might be a little more used to the tight confinement. In comparison, the suntan pantyhose and thong panties with their cute little red bow were easy to put on.
Walking in the corset and heels was another challenge that forced her to exaggerate the sway of her hips to make up for the lack of flexibility in her torso. On the positive side, a glance in the make-up mirror had showed the garment did wonderful things for her cleavage.
Stewart’s jaw dropped a little when he first saw her appear in the latest outfit; Jenny was dazzling.
“Excellent; are you, ah, ready for the next set?” he recovered.
“Yup, but keep this one short if you can. I can hardly breathe in this thing…”
“The look is totally gorgeous, though, on you. I have the feeling this might be the, ah, last set we’ll need. Start out with standing poses, next to that, ah, mannequin in the forefront that’s leaning over.”
“This one in pink? Wasn’t it on the bed earlier?”
“Don’t be, ah, silly. There are lots of dummies in this shot; I swapped one from in back and changed the lingerie to match. There you go; edge in closer like you’re really good friends…”
Flash; flash. Jenny made love to the camera again, changing her pose a little with every frame and wishing she could take a really deep breath. She was getting a little giddy from lack of air.
“Wonderful, Miss Jenny. Now, lean even closer, put your arm around Melanie; let her hand slip into your panties a little bit. Perfect!” Flash. Flash; the mannequin’s eyes glowed even more brightly.
“Melanie? Your mannequins have names?” Jenny gasped; it felt like the mannequin’s fingers had just brushed her pubic mound. But that’s impossible.. She began to feel an odd sensation.
“Of course; how else would I be able to give them directions? But don’t worry; I haven’t picked out your name yet so just stay with, ah, Jenny, for now. Look up and give me a big smile; hold it!” Flash.. Flash…
“What do you mean – what’s happening?” Jenny blurted, taking the time to look downward. There was a pale patch of smooth skin extending from where the mannequin was touching her hip and crotch. Her right leg had started to feel a little stiff. “No, that’s not possible…” The little creep must have drugged me somehow; I’m having hallucinations, she thought. I’ve had enough of this!
Reaching down to remove the mannequin’s hand, Jenny felt her own hand start to tingle and stiffen as the pale color seeped over it as well. Her hips didn’t seem to want to move when she willed her muscles; her feet were rooted to the floor. Within her surprise and fright, she also sensed a growing sexual tingle passing through her body that seemed to radiate from where the mannequin was touching her. Ohh, this is so wrong, but it feels so right somehow…
“Miss Jenny; don’t lose that, ah, marvelous focus. Not now, at the critical point. Look here, into the lens; show me what you desire.”
“Freedom..” her voice trailed off as her expression seemed to freeze into place. Another mannequin had moved behind her and was caressing Jenny’s hair and neck, accelerating her transformation into plastic. The camera flashes seemed to be slowing down as her thoughts faded into stillness. They’re turning me into a mannequin… was the last thing that crossed her mind.
“Sorry, Miss Jenny, you’ll have to settle for eternal beauty instead,” Stewart replied a few seconds later when the plastic color had covered her motionless body completely. Melanie and the other mannequin withdrew slowly, the glow in their eyes fading for now. They took classic display poses flanking the frozen model and became still again, for the time being.
Some days later, Stewart and his ‘lady friends’ were having a rest day out in his back yard. All of the figures from the photo-shoot were there.
Instead of lingerie, the mannequins were all dressed now in bright summer tops and shorts. As was Jenny, who displayed a polka-dotted red top and matching panties.
She still held a surprised expression, as if amazed that the nerdy photographer had gotten up the nerve to dress her in the kitschy outfit. Her hollow plastic body was completely stiff, though her pose was now different than in the photo shoot and her mind, if it had been conscious, might have wondered about that. As it turned out, thinking was the last thing she was capable of in her new form.
Separation lines now encircled her wrists, shoulders, waist, and one leg as she leaned up against the corner of the sun room, staring with glass eyes into the distance.
“Girls!” Stewart announced, all traces of hesitation gone, “Please welcome your newest ‘sister’, who I will now christen as the lovely Angelique,” he raised his glass towards Jenny and toasted his latest acquisition.
Jenny, now known as Angelique, was unable to do anything at all to acknowledge him.
“I know you're going to just love it here with my girls!”