All of a sudden the pieces fit together. Wow! It was hard to believe, but the three of us where all able to concentrate and remember what we had each experienced in a unique way.
We sat stunned, looking at each other. Hardly believing what we now knew to be fact. We couldn’t explain it, but it was true nevertheless.
My name is Connie Williams. The story starts about a year ago when I started working for the PR department of the college. I was recently divorced and had just turned forty. After my divorce, I moved back to my alma mater to become the Director of College Relations. In just a few short months, I became close friends with two other women— Lucy and Mikayla.
Lucy was a short Asian girl who just graduated with a communications degree the year before. I was able to hire her on a two-year internship program that the college had initiated the year before. Getting adequate staff for a small college was difficult and being able to hire new grads was a challenge and an opportunity. It was quickly evident that Lucy wasn’t going to be a challenge at all. She was devoted to her work and a pleasure to be with.
Mikayla, on the other hand started as a bit of a challenge. She had been the Assistant Director for two years under my predecessor, Jim Mills. She had frequently “butted” heads with Jim over every issue in the book. When Jim retired, Mikayla felt sure she would get the nod to be his replacement. But, for some reason, that didn’t happen.
At 35, Mikayla had great talent and a super work ethic. She was very attractive and came across as a real professional. She could be opinionated and in rare instances difficult to work with. She was also African-American—something that should’ve been in her favor in getting the promotion.
I’ve never quite understood why she didn’t get the job. Jim Mills was kind of a “good old boy” and some speculated that he wanted an older guy for the job. His strategy was to down play Mikayla’s skills in order to get permission to recruit outside the college. If that was the case the strategy backfired. In the interview process the other candidate was one that perfectly fit Jim’s “good old boy” profile—good talker, good golfer. However the guy self-destructed in the interview and I got the job. Jim was cool during the transition.
Another theory regarding Mikayla is that she didn’t get the job because she was African-American. To her credit, I’ve never heard Mikayla even mention this theory. I would hate to think that it might be true, but you never know.
From my perspective, Mikayla should’ve gotten the job. She’s the most capable assistant that I’ve ever had and I’m spoiled. She was quiet at first. I was guessing that she was probably putting out her resume. But after getting to know each other, I think we developed mutual respect. Our personalities also complemented each other— me being confident and outgoing while Mikayla is more serious and introverted.
Well, now that you know about us, let me tell you our story. Last October was my fortieth birthday and my first birthday after my divorce. I was dreading the day and feeling a little alone when Mikayla and Lucy surprised me with a birthday card. I gave them a resigned smile and opened up the card. In addition to the nice words inside the card, there were two certificates. One was for a really great espresso and dessert bar in the mall called Café Roma. The other was for $50 at the mall itself. Wow! I didn’t expect anything, let alone something this big.
Lucy spoke up, “There’s one condition; we have to go with you.”
“Only if you’ll have us.” Mikayla responded. “We thought you needed to get out with some friends.”
“Sure.” I said with a little hesitance. Stu, my ex was a bank VP and always cautioned me about getting too close to my employees. If only he had followed that advice with one of the other female managers, we would still be married. To hell with Stu! I’m going. I like these two girls.
That Saturday at the mall we were having a wonderful time. It reminded me of being back in college. We were laughing out loud and carefree. Mikayla was the only one of us that was in a relationship and she was using the opportunity to give us advice on potential men around campus.
We were still carrying on as we walked through the mall and its various stores. Toward the end of the day we went into a new store called Chantelle’s. The obvious fact that this wasn’t a chain store was confirmed when we met Chantelle herself. The store’s unique blend of style was reflected in Chantelle. She was tall and strikingly beautiful. At first appearance she appeared to be in her forties like me, but at closer inspection she looked to be in her late fifties or maybe even early sixties.
Chantelle had long black hair with ribbons of gray. Her skin was dark and it was difficult to tell what nationality she was. Maybe Asian, maybe African-American, maybe from one of the Pacific Islands — it was hard to tell. Either way she was charming to talk with and we were all impressed with the selection of clothes she had in stock.
Her clothes looked unique and comfortable. They also looked like they could double for work or casual. Silky blouses. Skirts with unique floral patterns. Wonderful scarves. The store was a delight.
The three of us stayed around and talked with Chantelle after we had made our purchases. After leaving the store, we all talked about what an interesting person Chatelle was — a charming personality, striking features. We all spoke of being attracted to her and her charismatic personality. Looking back on that day I remember feeling different as I left the store. I didn’t understand at the time. I felt confused and at peace— all at the same time.
The next morning things began to happen. While I was in the shower, it suddenly hit me that I needed to take a week off work. Not just any week, but the week of October 27. I was then very confused, because I didn’t know what I was going to do during my week off. I literally had no idea.
Things got even weirder a few hours later at work. Mikayla came in and asked me next week off, the week of October 13. She didn’t know what she was going to do, she just needed the week off. It was a tough time of the year for her to take a week off, but she had done so much beyond the call of duty on so many occasions, I couldn’t say no.
After Mikayla left my office, Lucy came in. “Connie, I need to take off the week of October 20.”
I asked her why.
“I’m not sure I just need the week off. I’ve looked through my schedule and I think I could work things out so that you wouldn’t miss me.”
I okayed the request and wondered about such a coincidence as Lucy left the room. Three women wanting a week’s vacation on three consecutive weeks and neither one knowing why they wanted to take the week off or having plans about where to go. It just didn’t make sense.
At the end of the day Mikayla and Lucy came into my office. They had talked and learned of each other’s plans. I hadn’t told either of them about my vacation on the week of the 27th.
Mikayla started, “Connie, didn’t you think it was unusual for two of your employees to ask for a week off on short notice with no reason for a vacation?”
“Yes, I did, but it’s really not my business what you do on your vacation.”
“Well we think it’s very strange,” chirped in Lucy.
Then I confessed, “Even more strange girls is that before either of you came in, I scheduled myself for the week after Lucy. So one of us is scheduled to be out for three consecutive weeks.”
You could’ve picked Mikayla and Lucy’s jaws up off the floor. We tried to come up with an explanation over the next hour, but came up empty.
That Friday, Mikayla went home knowing that she was on vacation the next week, but having no plans whatsoever. The next day Lucy and I each tried to call her at home, but she wasn’t there. Then same for Sunday and Monday.
Lucy had the key to Mikayla’s apartment and we went over to check on her after work on Monday. Everything was in order. Nothing was unusual.
“This is too stressful,” commented Lucy. “Let’s go to the mall and have a decaf espresso at Café Roma.”
I agreed and off we went. After getting our espressos, we strolled the mall window-shopping. We were both stopped in our tracks at Chantelle’s. We stared at the window display. The mannequin in the window bore a striking resemblance to Mikayla.
I looked over at Lucy and her eyes told me she thought the same thing. “Doesn’t that mannequin look like Mikayla?”
Lucy agreed. “It’s uncanny. At a distance I would swear it was her.”
It was true. At a distance the mannequin looked just like Mikayla. The mannequin had a cute little cleft on her chin, just like Mikayala’s. But when you got closer you could see that the woman in the window was definitely a mannequin. The skin had a glossy mannequin-like sheen and there were lines at the mannequin’s wrists and shoulders where her arms and hands could be removed in order to dress her.
This Mikayla mannequin was wearing an outfit that looked very nice on her. It was a long skirt with a floral print accompanied by a sleeveless sheer blouse in a bronze color that looked good with her dark skin.
Lucy spoke and broke my thoughts. “It’s just a coincidence. It couldn’t be true.”
I told her she was probably right and we walked on. I asked Lucy where she was going on her vacation next week and she still didn’t know. I didn’t know where I was going either and I didn’t know why. This was starting to bother me.
The following Friday at the end of the day I again asked Lucy where she was going on her week’s vacation. She still didn’t know. “Doesn’t this bother you?” I asked her.
“A little. I guess I’ll be spontaneous.”
I went to bed that Friday night, wondering whether I would hear from Mikayla on Saturday. Before I went to bed, I called Lucy and wished her luck on her vacation. She still didn’t know where she was going.
With all the stress of the week before, I didn’t even look at a clock until 10:00 on Saturday morning. I got up out of bed and walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. You could see the stress on my face. I wondered whether I would ever see Mikayla or Lucy again. Is there something I should be doing?
I called Lucy to see if she was still there. No answer. No answer at Mikayla’s either.
I showered and got ready. I would drive over to Mikayla’s apartment and stop by Lucy’s on the way.
No one was home at Lucy’s and everything was in its place just like Mikayla’s a few days before. I was scared and frustrated on the drive over to Mikayla’s. Whatever had happened to these two girls on their sudden vacation was not going to happen to me.
At Mikayla’s I knocked on the door. No answer. I used the spare key to let me into her apartment. Things looked just like they did last week. Then I heard a noise coming from the bedroom. At first I was excited thinking Mikayla might be home, but then I remembered that she hadn’t answered the phone and wondered whether it might be an intruder. Maybe whoever had taken these girls away was coming back to go through their apartment. Maybe I was in danger.
I crept across the living room and into the hallway that led to Mikayla’s bedroom. At her bedroom door I heard the sound of a hairdryer coming from the bathroom. My heart was about to beat out of my chest. I peeked around the corner and looked into the bathroom to see Mikayla! She was in her bathrobe using a blow dryer on her hair. I jumped for joy while she about jumped out of her skin.
After she calmed down, Mikayla looked at me with a stern look, “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“I’ve been worried about you. I called on the phone and you didn’t answer, so I came over to check on you.”
“I was in the shower Connie.”
“I’m just glad to see you here. How are you? How was your vacation? Where did you go?”
Mikayla had to pause a moment before answering me. “I’m not sure,” she said. “I’m not sure, but I did have good time. I’m very relaxed.”
“How can you just be back from a vacation and not know where you went?”
“I don’t know. I just know that it was great.”
She looked a little embarrassed not to know the answer. But she also looked a little indignant about my questions. After all, I had come into her house uninvited, while she was in the house.
I checked in on Lucy later that day and on Sunday. No one home.
Mikayla seemed a little aloof during the weekend. The fact that she didn’t know where she had been for the past week made it a little difficult for us to have a conversation.
I called Lucy from my cell phone on the way to work Monday morning. Still no answer. This was like a big mystery to me and I knew I needed to find the answer. When I got to work, I went to the vacation board and erased my name for next week. I was going to purposely plan to be at work. I would schedule as many appointments as possible for the week of the 27th.
Mikayla came in just before nine. I took one look at her and just about fainted. She was wearing the same outfit that the mannequin in the window at Chatelle’s was wearing the night that Lucy and I were at the mall.
“What’s wrong?” Mikayla asked.
“What about it?”
“Well, I don’t know what this means, if anything, but when you were gone Lucy and I went over the mall to Café Roma’s. When we were there we walked by Chantelle’s, that clothing store that we all liked. In the store window was a mannequin that looked just like you. Lucy and I both thought the resemblance was amazing. I mean it looked just like you.”
Mikayla got a firm look on her face. “So there are a lot of mannequins in the world, you just happened to get the one that looked a little bit like me.”
“There’s more Mikayla. This mannequin was wearing the exact same outfit that you’re wearing right now.”
Mikayla was speechless. “Well, um . . . “
“Mikayla, where did you get that outfit?”
“Um . . .”
I pressed. “So where did you get it. Think.”
“Well I got it last night when I came back from vacation.”
“Did you get it at Chantelle’s?”
“Yes, right before she closed last night.’
“Mikayla, something is weird here. I don’t know what it is, but don’t you think its interesting that the three of us would stop by that store for the first time and then immediately we would schedule vacations for three consecutive weeks, all the time having no idea where we’re going on vacation? And then to top it off, Lucy and I go by the store and see a mannequin in the window that looks just like you. A mannequin that was wearing the same floral dress and gold sleeveless blouse that you’re wearing this very minute.”
“But, Connie, coincidences happen all the time.” Mikayla looked confused.
“Coincidence my ass, Mikayla. This is more than coincidence. Something is happening.”
“I think you’re nuts, Connie. You’re telling me that somehow this woman at Chantelle’s puts a spell on us that makes us sign up for a week’s vacation so that she can turn us into a mannequin in her store window?”
“I don’t know. But you’ve got to admit that it would explain some weird behavior on all of our parts.”
“I just don’t know.”
Then it hit me. “Mikayla, what if we went down to that store right now? I think the mall opens at 9:30, so it should be open by the time we get there. What do you think is in that store window?”
“I don’t know. How would I know that?”
“Mikayla, I think you do know. I think there’s a mannequin in that window that bears a striking resemblance to Lucy. If that ends up being the case would you believe that something was wrong?”
“I guess so . . . maybe.”
“Then let’s go right now.”
The drive down to the mall was a quiet one. Neither of us said much of anything at all.
When we got there the mall parking lot was nearly empty. The mall had just opened and we were one of the first customers. We walked into the mall past the food court, where a lone janitor was setting up the tables and chairs. We walked toward Chantelle’s. One the way there we passed a woman in a store window changing the clothes on a row of headless mannequins.
Just a few feet from Chantelle’s I could see that the window display was different than last week. The store window was just past the entrance to the store. I could see a fake palm tree and some tropical props. As we walked up to the display my suspicions were verified. Standing next to the palm tree was a mannequin that looked just like Lucy. The window theme was winter vacations to warm places and the Lucy mannequin was wearing a bright yellow bikini top with a pair of baggy shorts with a floral print. The shorts tied around the mannequin’s waist. Lucy was short at just over 5 foot tall and this mannequin was about that height and it had Lucy’s distinct Asian face.
I looked over at Mikayla. She stood still with her hands on her face. She was as speechless and shocked as I’ve ever seen her. She let out an audible gasp. The store hadn’t yet opened and we both stood and stared.
I finally spoke. “Do you believe me now, Mikayla?”
Before Mikayla could answer we were both startled by the sound of the store’s front metal gate rolling up like a garage door.
“Good morning ladies.” The cheerful voice that came from the store was Chantelle herself. Her smile was genuine. “I just got a new shipment in this morning. Some great new stuff. Come in and check it out.”
I grabbed Mikayla’s hand and we reluctantly went into the store. My mind was full of conflicting thoughts. Why were we going into the store? Is this a trap? Maybe we can find out what’s really going on.
Chantelle acted as if nothing was wrong and showed me the new stuff. Mikayla’s attention was focused on the mannequin. Once in the store we were behind the display and without the glass Mikayla reached out and touched the mannequin’s waist. I could see that Chantelle was watching her out of the corner of her eye.
There was a tag hanging from the bikini bra top and Mikayla turned it around in her fingers. “I want to try on this bathing suit. Can I try on this bathing suit?”
Chantelle was immediately diverted to Mikayla. “Sure, what size do you need?”
“This size, the size that this mannequin is wearing.”
“I just got those in, so I’ve probably got all sizes on the racks. What size is the mannequin wearing?”
“Small. Size 32 top.” I snickered inside. There was no way Mikayla could fit into a small top. She’d be popping out all over the place.
“I think I’ve got these on the rack. Let me see.” Chantelle quickly walked over to the rack and began looking through the many yellow bikinis that were there. I was wondering what the heck Mikayla was doing.
After a brief moment brushing through the bikinis, Chantelle spoke to Mikayla, “Nope, no 32s here. I guess we’ll have to take the one off the mannequin.”
Again I was confounded. What was Mikayla doing? If this was Lucy, Mikayla was undressing her in public. Why would she do that?
Chantelle stepped up into the display and quickly took the bikini top off the mannequin and handed it to Mikayla. “Here you go, the dressing rooms are at the back of the store. Are you sure this is your size? You look more like a 34 or 36.”
“Thanks.” Mikayla’s eyes were attached to the mannequin’s naked back. “Okay, I’ll go try it on.” She then gave me an okay-do-your-thing look and headed toward the back of the store.
Chantelle lingered for a moment and then slowly went toward the back of the store. I was momentarily confused and didn’t know what I was supposed to do and then it hit me. I needed to look at the mannequin’s breasts. Most mannequins don’t have nipples, or even if they do they aren’t realistic. If this mannequin were somehow Lucy, then she would have more real nipples than a mannequin.
With Chantelle at the back of the store, I slowly walked out in front of the store to check out the mannequin’s boobs. Chantelle was watching me, but she didn’t seem to care.
My look at the mannequin’s boobs proved inconclusive. I just couldn’t tell. They looked a little more real than I thought they should’ve, but they still didn’t look REAL.
By the time I went back in the store, Mikayla was telling Chantelle that she didn’t want to buy the top after all and seemed to be rushing me out the door. Before we were back outside again, Chantelle had put the top back on the mannequin.
“So, were they real girl nipples or were they fake?”
“I don’t know. I couldn’t tell.”
“What do you mean you couldn’t tell?”
“I just couldn’t. They kinda looked real, but they kinda didn’t.”
“Shit! I’m sure it was her. I’m not sure how she did it, but I think it was her.”
Mikayla and I sat down for a latté at Café Roma. We discussed the situation — the consecutive vacations, the chance visit to Chantelles, and the mannequins that looked amazingly like the girl who was on vacation. There were just too many coincidences.
I looked at Mikayla. “So do you not remember anything about your week off? Anything about where you were? What you did?”
“No I don’t. All I know is that it somehow was good.”
“Do you remember where you went to start the vacation? Did you come to the mall?”
“I don’t remember.” I could tell my intense questioning was starting to get to Mikayla. I looked away toward the few shoppers that were in the mall early in the day.
Then it hit me. A newspaper was laying open on the empty table next to us. The ad at the bottom of the page was for a hypnotist— Dr. Will Controlieu. The ad said that the Doctor could discover your inner thoughts and remedy your anxiety. His office was in a building next to the mall. It took me a matter of seconds to convince Mikayla to be hypnotized.
At Dr. Controlieu’s we were told that he could see us in a few minutes. It would cost us $100. Mikayla and I talked about whether we would find anything and whether this would be a waste of money. Mikayla had always been skeptical of hypnotism and wondered whether we would find out anything.
Our thoughts were interrupted when Dr. Controlieu came out and invited us into his office. I was surprised by how normal he looked. I’m not sure what I was expecting, but Dr. Controlieu, or Will as he told us to call him, looked like some nurdy computer guy. He wore black pants and a light blue shirt with buttoned-down collars. He had redish-blonde hair, was a little overweight and wore thick-rimmed glasses.
Once we were in Will’s office, we tried to explain our improbable story. I expected him to laugh at us, but he didn’t.
Instead, he calmed us down. “Ladies, if Mikayla spent the last week as a mannequin in a store at the mall, then hypnosis should be able to find the answer. Let’s get started.”
Will positioned Mikayla in a chair directly facing him. I sat by the window in a sofa. Will walked over and turned the lights in the room down until they were nearly off. He then pulled out a very small flashlight with a very bright beam and just twisted it between his thumb and forefinger.
“Just relax Mikayla, let your cares slip away.” While Will kept talking I set forward in my chair as I watched Mikayla drift away just like Will commanded.
Will started slowly. Asking Mikayla about vacations in general. He then asked Mikayla about her last vacation. “Hawaii,” she said.
Hawaii?? I thought, what about last week?
Will probed, “were you on vacation last week?”
“Then what did you do last week?”
“I worked at the mall.”
“At the mall, doing what?”
“I was a mannequin.”
“How could you be a mannequin?”
“Chantelle made me one.”
“How did she make you one?”
“She put some kind of spell on me.”
“Were you afraid?”
“No not at all. In fact just the opposite.” Mikayla snickered. “It was a great turn-on. It was great. Relaxing. Sensual. Tingling. Better than a massage.”
“So you would like to work as a mannequin again?”
“Yes I would.”
The conversation went on. I was totally convinced that Mikayla had not only been a mannequin for a week, but that it was actually an extremely sensual experience. I was also convinced that the mannequin in the window at Chantelle’s this morning really was Lucy. Somehow this woman had the ability to turn someone into a mannequin. And then it hit me. I was next.
Once Will was finished with her, Mikayla could remember nothing of her session. On the way back to the office I filled Mikayla in on what she had said. She was amazed. She momentarily denied it, but inside she knew it was true.
During the rest of the week I went over to the mall to check on Lucy every day. On Friday I even bought an ice cream and sat on the bench in front of the store for at least an hour. Lucy was so beautiful. She was very petite and didn’t look like a normal mannequin. I wondered what she was thinking. But then I thought of Mikayla who remembered nothing.
At one point Chantelle looked out at me with an I’ll-see-you-next-week look on her face. During the week I had gone back and forth over whether I would allow this to happen to me. My vacation was still cancelled and my assistant had scheduled appointments for me. I wondered if I really had a choice or whether Chantelle had the power to somehow force me to be her mannequin.
That Friday night, Mikayla came over to my place to stay the night. I wanted her to be there if I was somehow abducted. I wasn’t sure what she could do, but it just seemed comforting to have her there.
We talked until late in the night. I finally came to the conclusion that it would’ve been better to have not known anything, than to know what I knew. I was afraid, there was a lump in my throat.
Saturday morning I woke up at nine o’clock. I decided I wasn’t going to do it. I was going to drive eight hours to the cabin my folks owned and stay the week there. Chantelle wouldn’t control me.
Mikayla lay asleep as I walked out the door with my overnight bag stuffed with a week’s worth of clothes. I was feeling confident as I drove onto the freeway headed out of town. At the south end of town the freeway curved right by the mall.
Then curiosity took over. I started to wonder if Lucy was still in the window. I decided to go by and see. I would just breeze through the mall and head out of town.
Once in the mall I headed toward Chantelle’s. The store window was empty. Lucy was gone. I saw someone in the back of the store. Was it Lucy? I was somehow compelled to enter the store.
The figure in the back of the store turned around and faced me. “Connie, I’ve been waiting for you. Come on in.”
“But I don’t want to. You’re going to make me into a mannequin and I’m not sure I want you to do that.” I couldn’t believe what I was saying.
“Hmmm. I thought you had figured it out. Connie, you don’t have to do this.” She paused and gave me a serious look. “But I can guarantee that you will be happy you did. It’s a marvelous experience.” Chantelle then shook her head. “How did you figure it out?”
I told her about the hypnotist, but I didn’t give his name. I didn’t want to involve him in all this.
“Okay Connie, when Mikayla was telling her story under hypnosis, what did she say about the experience?”
“She said it was sensuous and exciting. It almost sounded like she had gone away to a spa or something.”
“Hmmm.” Chantelle put her hand on my neck and began rubbing it. There was an unnatural soothing heat that came from her hand— better than any massage. I felt relaxed, carefree and turned on. If the week was anything like this, it truly might be great and even worthwhile. “Connie, I can make you into a mannequin if you want but you must go now or it will be too late the process has already started.”
I took a deep breath. “Can I do this so that I will remember it when I’m done?”
“Do you want to remember it?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Then we’ll do it that way. I must confess I’ve never done it that way. . . So you’ll do it?”
“Yes, I’ll do it.” Oh God, what did I just say?
“Let’s start then.” Chantelle asked me to go into the dressing room and take off all my clothes except my underwear. As she told me this both of her hands were on my shoulders producing soothing sexual warmth.
A few minutes later I came out of the dressing room wearing just my bra and panties. The room was a little cold and I felt goose bumps as I crossed my arms. And goose bumps weren’t all, my nipples were also hard and erect. For some reason I had worn my sheerest bra that day. It was a light beige underwire with sheer cups. Normally, you could faintly see my areolas through the fabric of the bra, but on that day you could see the full detail of my nipples raised above my breasts like a rock on the top of a mountain. I probably only wear that bra one or two days a month and for some reason I wore it that day. The bra still makes me feel sexy and the beige color has always looked rich on my tanned skin.
In another coincidence, I wore the thong panties that matched the bra that day as well. They weren’t that comfortable and I’d probably only worn them once or twice prior to that day.
Chantelle embraced my hands and put them down at my sides. The touch of her hands made me warm all over. Even with my underwear, I felt pretty naked. “Connie, you will be a great mannequin. You have nice features.”
“Thank you.” Her saying that relaxed me a little. “So how do you make me into a mannequin?”
“My touch, sweet. I have a spell that gives me the warm touch that turns you into a mannequin. In fact the process has already started. You are probably feeling a little stiff as we speak.”
I moved my right arm and quickly found out that she was right, my arm felt a little heavy and my elbow was slightly stiff.
“Connie, what kind of pose would you like?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, how you like to stand? Or would you like to sit? Would you like your hands on your hips? Or in the air? . . . So??”
“I don’t know.” I stammered. “I think I want to stand. Maybe with my hands at my sides.”
“Do you want to show off your boobs?”
I had always liked my breasts and without thinking I said, “Sure, er I guess I do.” Somehow I was beginning to trust this woman. “Chantelle, I don’t know anything about being a window mannequin, just surprise me with the rest of the pose.”
“Very well.” Chantelle smiled and went behind me and began rubbing my shoulders. The feeling was absolutely fantastic. “I’ve got an idea. I’ve got a small table that I’ve occasionally used in displays. Let’s have you standing straight up with your hands leaning back on the table. Your legs will be slightly crossed. This is a pose that should do well to show off those perfect breasts.”
Perfect breasts? Wow! “Okay.” I was getting into the spirit. Her flattery was working on me.
Chantelle brought in the table and I tried to walk over to it. At this point I could tell that my body was getting stiffer. And I didn’t care. Every time Chantelle touched me a flash of sensuous feelings washed across my body. She positioned me back against the table and then spent a few minutes positioning every part of my body. As I leaned back against the table I could see my reflection in a mirror on the other side of the room. I liked my pose.
“Hold that pose, Connie.” She kept talking as she walked over to a desk and got something out of the top drawer. “We have to take a moment to add your separation points.”
“You’ll see.” She pulled out what looked like a medium sized rubber band and slid it over my right foot and up my leg to the top of my thigh. She spent a few moments positioning the band so that it was perfectly straight. She then pulled off my panties and slipped another larger rubber band over both legs and up over my hips stopping at the widest point on my hips about six inches above my crotch. Again she spent time making sure the rubber band was perfectly straight.
I was curious. “I don’t get it.”
“You will, just be patient.”
She then pulled out a smaller rubber band and slid it over my right arm and positioned it vertically from under my armpit to the top of my shoulder. Next came my left arm. She did the same to each wrist with the smallest of the rubber bands. I still didn’t get it and Chantelle would reveal nothing.
Then Chantelle knelt down on the floor and began rubbing all over my legs. Wow!! After a few minutes of this I tried to move my legs a little, but couldn’t. “I can’t move my legs Chantelle.”
“I know. Your human legs are becoming mannequin legs.”
She then moved to my crotch and lightly brushed her hand through my pubic hair. With each brush a little bit came off and fell gently to the floor until I was as smooth as I was when I was a little girl.
“Your hair comes off when I rub you. When I’m done you will be perfectly smooth.” She continued to rub. The closer she came to my crotch the more turned on I became.
I let out a long orgasmic moan. I was momentarily embarrassed but it felt so good I really didn’t care. This was better than anything I had ever felt. Way better! If Stu could’ve done this I might have stayed with him even if he did play around. And the smoothness of my skin! This sure beat getting a waxing! Lose your unwanted hair and get turned on at the same time.
As she reached my waist I could see in the mirror that my skin had changed in appearance. From what I could tell my sex was totally smooth. The rubber bands had somehow blended into my skin and had left small, defined lines. I was beginning to look like a mannequin.
“How do you feel?”
“Weird, wonderful . . .” I was speechless.
She moved past my waist and around my midriff. She reached between my breasts and unclasped my front-hook bra. I wasn’t sure whether my stiffness was making it hard to breathe or whether it was because I was more turned on that I had ever been in my live. I let out another moan.
My breasts were different. They didn’t move when Chantelle took the bra away. It was like my bra was still there. They were stiff and erect. Chantelle gently caressed each breast. I could move my head a little and looked down. My breasts had lost their softness. They were now hard. And with every movement of Chatelle’s hands I about shot to the moon. Another moan. I could still talk, “Chantelle, I’m sorry for making so much noise, I just can’t help it.”
“It’s okay Connie. Everyone does it.”
“I can tell you now, I’m sure glad I did this.”
“Most are, Connie. Most are.”
Connie then went to my shoulders and pushed them back as she rubbed them. “You need to try not to look down, unless you want that to be part of your pose.”
“Would that be bad to have it as part of my pose?”
“I don’t know, it would make it hard for you to people watch. But it does make a nice pose. Remember your head and eyes will be fixed in one direction when I’m done.”
“Hmmm. Can we try a combination?”
“You could cock your head to the side and look slightly downward with a thoughtful kind of look. That would be nice.”
“Let’s do that.”
All the while we were talking Chantelle was moving down my arms. A little less sensual than my breasts, but still good.
She had done everything but my head when she stood up and looked me over. “You look great Connie, how do you feel?”
“Like a mannequin,” I said.
“Let me show you what the separation points are for.” She then grabbed my left forearm and pulled it forward. I felt my arm move at my shoulder. She pulled up on my arm until it was sticking straight out. It stopped wherever she stopped it. I couldn’t move it at all. It felt a little strange to be standing there naked with one arm sticking straight out and my wrist still pointed outward like I was leaning on the table.
Then came the unexpected. She pulled outward and my entire arm came off!! “What the hell?”
“It’s okay, I can put it back.” And she did. “A mannequin needs to have removable body parts so that they can be easily dressed. That’s what the rubber bands do.”
“And I’ll be back to normal when this is done?”
“Yep, did you notice anything different about Mikayla?”
“It will be the same with you, you’ll have a slight line for a few months. That’s all.”
“Wow.” That was all I could say.
Next Chantelle pulled out a bottle of some flesh colored lotion. She poured a big gob in her hand and rubbed her hands together. She then started with my shoulders and rubbed the lotion over every inch of my body.
“What’s that for?”
“This smoothes out your skin . . . gives it a mannequin-like sheen. It also covers up any freckles that might tell someone you are a real woman.”
“Oh.” And oh it felt so good. I had just relaxed from the first orgasm and I started building to another climax when she rubbed my breasts. My inhibitions were all gone by this point and I moaned in ecstacy. Here I was letting a total stranger make me into a mannequin and bring to orgasm at the same time. Unbelievable!
“The lotion also disguises your nipples. That’s why you couldn’t tell for sure whether Lucy was real when you looked at her bare breasts last week.”
Another orgasm came when she got down to my crotch and thighs. Not as good as the first one, but still incredible.
“When will I not be able to talk? When will you do my face?”
“Very soon Connie, dear,” she said as she stood up from finishing my feet. “I’ve just got one more thing to do and I’ll do your face. Then you’ll really be a mannequin.”
The one more thing was a small can of spray paint. Chantelle very carefully misted a pink haze over each of my nipples. The process and the lotion had made them look less defined and mannequin-like. The paint made them look a little more unreal, but yet beautiful at the same time. I really did like the way I looked.
“Now your face, Connie.”
“Okay,” I said wondering what it would be like to have my face frozen in place. My nose suddenly itched and I wanted to scratch it but quickly realized that I had lost the ability to move my arms, or any part of my body.
The momentary panic left me when Chantelle touched my face. I was immediately relaxed. She gave a final tweak to the position of my head. I could feel my mouth and throat cinching up. I had room for one more sentence. “Wi . . . ll you t. . . ake a pic . . . ture of me?”
“Of course. Now it’s time to relax. You are now a mannequin.”
Yes I was. I could move no more. I couldn’t blink, but it wasn’t uncomfortable in any way. To the contrary, I felt wonderful, beautiful, enchanted, fulfilled.
Every moment of the next few minutes that Chantelle worked on my face was like heaven. I knew I looked great.
As she promised she finished off with a photo. My eyes didn’t even blink for the flash!
Chantelle took off my arms and then separated me at the waist. It took her three trips to bring me from the back of the store to the front window. Oh her fourth trip she brought up the wooden table that I was posed leaning up against.
Once the table was in position, she set my upper torso on the table. For the first time I noticed people in the mall passing by the store. Many of them gave me a brief glance. I wondered what they were thinking. Probably not much, I mean how many times had I been to the mall and seen a mannequin being dressed. I really never gave it much attention.
Out of the corner of my now limited vision I could see that Chantelle had turned my lower body upside down and was fitting me with a pair of sheer black pantyhose. It felt great. She then put a pair of black shoes on my feet and turned me right side up.
She then slipped a tight and short skirt over my hips. Hmmm. A little easier getting a skirt on if you don’t pull it over your feet. I could feel the tightness of the skirt when Chantelle zipped it up in the back. She then leaned my lower body against the table.
“Let’s get your top on now.” Chantelle mumbled these words almost like talking to herself. Now that I really had become a mannequin, she didn’t talk as directly to me.
Her touch still felt arousing as she lifted my upper torso and put it on my body. I looked out on the mall and saw to young guys sit on a bench eating hot dogs. They looked directly at me and for the first time I felt a little naked.
I could almost read their lips and I tried to imagine their conversation—Don’t you think that mannequin has nice tits? Yeah, I wish my girlfriend’s were as good as hers. Don’t you think she looks a little like the girl that sits in front of us in class? Yeah.
My nakedness was gone in a matter of seconds when Chantelle slipped a sleeveless red knit top over my head. In the window reflection I could see that it had a large cowl neck. Next came my arms and a set of black beads around my neck. The final touch was a quick sprucing up of my hair.
Then Chantelle left the window and opened up the store.
I was alone in the window.
I stood firm in my pose throughout the morning. I couldn’t tell the time but I was guessing that it was approaching noon. The mall was filling with people. I enjoy people-watching and this was even better. You could watch and they had no idea you were watching them. You could even stare! In fact staring was all I could do.
Some stopped and looked in the window. Some of them entered the store and I could hear them talking to Chantelle behind me. Would they be future mannequins like me? On of the women was especially striking. If Chantelle were looking for recruits, she would be a good one.
Sometime, I think in the early afternoon, I heard familiar voices. It was Mikayla and Lucy! They had come to the mall to see if I was there. When I left this morning, I was sure I would not be here, but here I am. It was fun to see the looks on their faces. They looked me in the face and mouthed the words “You look great!” They didn’t stop in the store. I’m guessing this was because they weren’t sure whether they should or not.
By the end of the day I was actually enjoying being a mannequin. I somehow knew that I looked good on display and that knowledge gave me some real confidence. I loved it when people would stop and look at me. Some even stared. I remember that Lucy and Mikayla looked especially real when they were mannequins and I was guessing that they had the same thoughts.
When nighttime came the mall gradually grew dark. I knew closing time was coming when I saw the bookstore straight across from me turn out the lights and close their entrance with a roll-down gate.
At one point two security guards came past me — a portly twenty-something male with a tall thin forty-something female. I could hear their conversation. She was trying to decide whether to quit and take a job with better hours. He seemed to be fairly new on the job. He was working on a degree at the local community college. They continued up the mall.
At some point the main lights in the mall were dimmed. Chantelle had turned off all the lights in her store except a single spotlight that shined down on me. I could feel the warmth of the light bathing me. Years ago I dabbled in photography and knew that this type of lighting would make a great time exposure if you were taking a photograph of me. I had tried some of these shots back then, but the subject of my shot could never stay still enough. I would have no problem standing still.
My thoughts were interrupted when the male security guard came back. He had a camera! He also had a tripod and he carefully set it up to take a shot. I wondered what he was going to shot and then it hit me— it was me! I wondered whether he was doing this as a part of his community college class work. Or maybe he had a thing for mannequins. I would probably never know, but I wished I could have a copy of one of his shots.
As the night moved on loneliness came. At some point, I don’t know when, I went into some sort of sleep state. My eyes never closed. They couldn’t.
I awoke the next day with the rattle of Chantelle opening up the shop. I wondered whether she had any other employees, she was the only one I had ever seen working there. She came up behind me and spoke to me while rubbing her hand on my right bun. “How are you doing, Connie? How was your first night as a mannequin?”
Her hands were warm and they brought back some of the more sensual feelings that I experience when she was making me into a mannequin. Momentarily I wished I could move and satisfy myself, but then it suddenly felt like the warmth move up and down my body permeating my entire being. I didn’t need to move to experience this pleasure.
It was a Sunday and the mall was fairly full. Judging from the conversations that I overheard, there were a few early Christmas shoppers. At one point in the afternoon, two women stood and looked at me in the window
I could slightly overhear their conversation. They seemed to be sisters. The younger one was suggesting that her sister get an outfit like I was wearing. The older one wasn’t buying it and they moved on.
Sunday came and went. Monday and Tuesday were especially slow. It hardly seemed like anyone was even in the mall, let alone going into Chantelle’s store. I wished there was something I could do. Maybe I needed a better outfit.
On Wednesday, Mikayla and Lucy came by again. This time they came into the store. I could hear them talking behind me and the gist of their conversation was that they had done some considerable talking about being a mannequin. They were obviously now convinced that this was all true and that they too had been mannequins. But unlike me, they couldn’t remember the experience.
“I wonder if she can hear us,” said Lucy out loud.
“I wish I could go up and touch her,” said Mikayla.
“Go ahead, it’s okay. Just step up and do it.” It was Chantelle. She had stepped up behind them.
The girls jumped.
“Unlike you guys, Connie elected to remember her experience. She is fully aware that we are here talking about her. So go ahead and touch her. Her senses are heightened in the state she’s in. She craves your touch.”
As usual Chantelle was right. I did crave their touch.
Mikayla went first. She first touched my cheek and then went on to my shoulders. It felt great! Lucy followed and it felt equally great. It was a loving touch, but didn’t have the sensual feel that Chantelle’s touch did.
Eventually they left and I was all alone again.
Thursday came and went. And then came Friday. This was my last day. On Saturday I would be back home and my week’s vacation would be done. Just a memory.
And before I knew it, it was just a memory. It was Saturday morning and I was in the shower at my apartment. I really couldn’t figure out how I got there, but I did know that I had spent the previous week as a mannequin in Chantelle’s store window.
Once I was out of the shower, I dried off and I had just put on my underwear when the doorbell rang. I put on my robe and went to the door. It was Mikayla and Lucy.
They talked almost in unison, asking “How was it being a mannequin?”
“Unexplainably nice. I would do it again anytime. I’m totally relaxed.”
“Look you have mannequin lines around your wrists.”
I looked at my wrists and yes I did have the lines.
“What about your shoulders? Take off the robe and let’s see.”
Even in front of two friends, it was a little embarrassing to take off my robe. But I did.
Lucy and Mikayla quickly saw the lines on my waist and shoulders. They spent some time going over the lines with their fingers.
“Just like mine,” stated Lucy. “There’s still a little indenture at the line.”
I confirmed her observation with my hand.
Lucy went on, “what about your nipples, mine were still flesh tone and less distinct.”
I pulled forward on the cup of my bra, to again confirm Lucy’s observation.
“And your sex???”
The same observation down there.
I told Lucy and Mikayla that Chantelle had let me remember my experience and although it was at times a little boring, it was still great.
We all wonder when our next unscheduled vacation would occur.