When John received the "invitation", a no-return text message with all pertinent details, he resigned himself to the task ahead. The 'price' of admission to 'The Party' was simple: bring a young woman, under 30, 5'2"-5'8", 120-150 lbs. While this may seem like a particularly strange and specific admission, it really was quite sensible. All the machines, mechanisms and devices were created for women with those qualities.
It had been a year since the last Party, and John had carefully arranged the details for this one. His goal was simple: invite six young women separately, have them meet him at the party, and make each one 'volunteer' for a station at the party. There were, coincidentally, six pleasure stations, where women were placed into uniquely erotic situations for one hour each. While engaged at each station, they would be watched and quite possibly touched, stroked and fondled by guests. Six women, sixty minutes, sixty guests. The numbers were sound, and the odds were against his success, but John would never undertake something that wasn't without risk, peril and danger. No, that wouldn't do at all.
John arrived minutes early at the incredible mansion that housed the party each year. It was a sight to behold: stone, gigantic and imposing. It reminded him of a medieval fortress, but slightly modern in tone. Perhaps it was the satellite dish array that did it. He had never quite deduced what 'Smith' did for a living--not that it mattered. Software or soft-core; it didn't matter to John. The man was loaded, and held this annual Party to entertain and awe his guests. The guest list was always limited to sixty guests. That way each station was available to each guest at all times. Each station was 'staffed' by a 'volunteer' for one hour in length, ten volunteers would last the night. No one left early--who'd want to? And each station was willingly staffed.
John had accidently stumbled into this world from his connection with the modeling agency. Though small, John's modeling agency, Niche Models, was well known. He supplied specialty models: make-up, freeze-modeling, underwater, mannequin, robot, etc. His models were used as background for parties, movies, charity events, museums and the like. It kept John guessing where his modeling needs would be in demand next. Smith had needed several of his models some years past, and his requests had been very specific: breath holding and motionless models were needed for one night, and 6 at that! John had been flummoxed but excited, and after several weeks lining up the models, had garnered a free invitation to the event.
While John had expected some large charity event, what he encountered blew him away. The mansion had a large central ballroom with six chambers. The first one was a large clear Plexiglas column from ceiling to floor. Puzzled at first, John noticed that, upon inspection, there was an entry hatch from an above floor into the top of the column, and it appeared to be watertight. Interesting, he mused. Continuing clockwise, he next noticed a marble dais with a small step column. It looked reminiscent of an ancient Greek statue, minus the statue. Hmmm... he walked on. Next was a clear latex rubber membrane stretched around a frame of PVC piping. There appeared to be a zippered side, and a clear hose disappearing into the wall. Curiouser, curiouser. The next display housed a clear Plexiglas cube with a hinged top. It had the look of a mold, though of what, he pondered. The next station appeared to be a small window display, minus the store. The window display was curiously minus the center mannequin. The last display area looked like a Dr. Frankenstein lab: a metal table with straps lay before a wall of displays and flashing lights. Creative--yes. Curious--definitely.
After witnessing the abandon at which each of his models accepted and enjoyed each task, John was taken with the event himself. He promised that this year would be the best ever. He had selected six of the finest women he had ever known to start each station. If they would ever talk to him again after this experience, well... predicting the future was never a strong suit of John's. Pleasing clients, that was more his forte.
John stood impatiently at the foyer entry area. He was wondering if Carrie would show. She was quite a unique woman. She had come to his agency with a friend. The friend lacked any sort of aptitude for his agency--but Carrie was quite qualified. In college, she had worked as a mermaid in a local water park. She routinely held her breath for minutes at a time underwater, entertaining tourists with her act. He had used her in several of his clients' events. While he'd never considered mermaids a high demand commodity, when Carrie's act was seen, people tended to want to see more of her. She was a stunning brunette, 5'4" and 130 lbs. At 28, she was his oldest model, but she looked like she was 20. She kept time, however, like she was six. He tapped his Rolex as the minutes evaporated. Thankfully, her old Nissan pulled into the lot, and she slowly ambled to the walk, obviously stunned by the scope of the edifice.
"Whoa--John--this is too much."
"That is an understatement"
He led her inside, and explained the situation. There was the usual water tank, but there was a catch...
"What?" she narrowed her green eyes.
"You need to be nude," John sputtered.
"OK," she slowly nodded. She'd done nude--enjoyed it--the exhibitionism--as well as the extra pay.
Carrie's brows raised curiously.
John sighed and spit it out.
"You'll be completely underwater for an hour with air breaks only once every minute."
She stood silently.
"And, uh, you'll be chained to the bottom of the tank. It'll fill, hold for sixty seconds, then drain--repeat for an hour," John looked her in the eyes.
Carrie didn't bat an eye.
John felt the sweat drying on his back as he contemplated what Carrie could have done. She'd always been ambitious and adventurous--though he suspected that ego had more to play with this decision. But he didn't care. One down--five to go.
The guests flowed in steadily, and by 10:00 PM, the mansion was full. All five other girls had arrived in succession, and he's quickly explained the vaguest outline of their roles to them. Only Melissa showed slight hints of not wanting to follow through, but, miraculously, adding an extra bit to her fee had worked. The night held great promise... great indeed.
The guests, as well as the girls, all gathered around the clear column. Noises could be heard from above, and the hatch opened. Carrie, completely nude (and shaven) descended. A petite woman followed her down the ladder. When Carrie reached the bottom, the woman took the floor chains and cuffed them around Carries ankles, securing her to the floor of the tank. Next, she cuffed Carries wrists behind her back. No sign of fear crossed Carrie's features as the woman went back up the ladder, and pulled it up through the hatch. The hatch closed with a thud, and a bolt was heard securing it closed. The lights in the room dimmed as the nude and chained Carrie became the focus of the party. Slowly, water began to trickle into the tank, then slowly began to flow... faster... water was rapidly approaching Carrie's breasts, which seemed to put a little smile on her face. The water line crept past her shoulders, and reached her chin. She didn't even struggle as the water engulfed her head and filled the tank. A bright red LED clock began counting down from sixty seconds. Carrie's eyes searched the crowd as she took in the mix of men and women, all staring at her nude, bound body submerged in the tank. Some women began to look worried as Carrie scanned the room. The clock ever so slowly rolled on, never a gasp from the crowd. Finally, sixty seconds passed, and with a great whoosh, the tank drained. The roar of water was only just echoing away, when Carrie took her first breath, one of only sixty in the next hour. She stood there dripping with water, and perhaps a little else. No one would know, she smirked, that she was adding a little fluid to the mix. She secretly enjoyed this much more than she let on. Had John told her he couldn't pay her, she would have begged him to let her participate. She felt the water rising again, and braced. As the water once again swallowed her naked body, she saw a man standing in front of the tank with a barely concealed erection in his pants. She smiled, and nodded at him. He smiled, embarrassed at being caught so obviously enjoying her predicament. But Carrie had the last laugh. She had managed to work a finger around from her cuffs, and was carefully massaging her clit. As if on cue, as she was approaching her climax, a woman behind her had obviously caught onto her doings.
The crowd looked at Carrie's clit, now red and swollen from her rubbing, and watched as she rocked and spit air bubbles, an orgasm racking her nude, chained body in a tank of water in front of sixty strangers. Oh yeah--this was good.
One down, five to go, thought John. As nice as Carrie had been, he couldn't rest on his laurels.
He quickly took an awestruck Jenna by the arm and led her into a small side room. Jenna had been stunned by what Carrie had done. While she was genuinely 'breath-challenged', she felt the power that had been focused on Carrie; she wanted that feeling as well, and she hoped John had a similar plan for her. Jenna was the tallest, and youngest of the women. At 5'8”, 140 lbs. And only 20 years of age, her experience was more limited than the others. Her cravings for experiences more than made up for her novice level, however. John gave her a succinct description of her role.
“OK― did you see the clear latex bag out there?,” he probed.
“Yes― you mean the one that looked like a clear trash bag?”
“Right― kind of. Your going to get naked, climb into the 'trash' bag, and a vacuum will suck all of the air out of it. You'll then be hoisted and held to the wall for an hour.” John practically sputtered at the end.
“OK― seems kinda kinky― but still within 'normal'?” Jenna sensed there was a catch.
“Well... there's a catch” Here it came.
“Uh, what am I a fish? What type of 'catch'?”
“Your going to have sensors attached to your body... ”
“You will,” John muttered softly.
Jenna arched her eyebrows; part in fear, part in anticipation.
“We'll put a dildo/butt-plug sensor into you, and put electro-stimulators on each nipple. The guests will take turns abusing― using --ahhh-- what was that― using them on you.” John squirmed inside.
If Jenna had any qualms, she didn't show any hesitation. She offered her hand to John.
“Lead on my dear employer... ”
When she had stripped, John called the petite lady who had helped Carrie. Mrs. 'Smith' was the silent type. She was also the incredibly beautiful type. Maybe 35, definitely stunning. She wore a work outfit with an improbable array of tools and equipment. She took her job seriously, and secretly, John was sure she enjoyed the power she exerted over these women. Her soft features and femininity were relaxing to the 'volunteers'. She made humiliation feel natural― you wanted her to help you. She removed a rather thick dildo attached with a smooth metal plate to a large butt-plug. She removed some lube, drenching the dynamic duo, then motioned for Jenna to get on her hands and knees. Jenna obeyed this quiet lady, and arched her rear. Jenna felt the smooth latex gloves carefully (expertly... sensuously?) probe her privates, amply lubing her inside and out. While trying to breathe and relax, Jenna was not prepared for the sheer diameter of the duo. The dildo completely filled her vagina, making her slightly uncomfortable as it pushed on her bladder. It's neighbor was another deal. The lady simply smiled as the metal rocket launched into Jenna's rear door. Jenna gasped― part pain― part pleasure. She felt the lady push a button, and a slight electrical current pulsed through her groin.
An amplifier― remote control? Jenna wondered. Slowly, she felt small fins expand from the dildo and plug, expanding within her, lodging themselves tight with her snatch and ass. When she could attempt to stand, the petite woman took two small metal pads and put what appeared to be glue on each. She took each one and carefully placed one over each nipple. They amply covered the areole. Once again, she felt that electrical current pulse over each nipple and whimpered. The lady put her fingers through Jenna's silky hair and smiled. She stood on tip-toes and gently kissed her cheek. Jenna felt oddly reassured― almost motherly so, as if this was all for her own good. She hoped she could repay this like Carrie had. John took what appeared to be a small remote from the lady, who left as quietly as she had come.
“Gotta check― sorry!”
Jenna fell to her knees as an electrical current washed over her like a million ton wave of ecstasy. She instinctively tried to remove the nipple plates, forgetting that they had been glued down. Her hand reached for her crotch, and remembered that the metal monsters had also been locked into her. While the voltage lasted seconds― it lingered for a lifetime in her loin. When she could focus on John again, she saw a look of horror and accomplishment― strange stablemates― plastered on his features. She rose unsteadily, placed a hand on his shoulder, and pried open his mouth with her tongue. She probed and sucked on his tongue. When she finished, she looked him in the eyes.
John had never been complimented with an insult before. He liked it.
Jenna walked out of the door of the small room, and re-entered the main hall. She had to walk with a slight spread hip gate. The petite lady held a small ladder for her to enter the latex bag. Jenna slipped inside, standing on the ladder inside of the bag. Only three feet off the ground, she felt like she was already flying. As the zipper was shut, a pang of claustrophobia struck Jenna, then flitted away. Almost immediately, the vacuum tube began sucking air out of the bag. The petite lady motioned Jenna to put the other air tube into her mouth, and Jenna did. Unexpectedly, it too expanded, locking itself onto her mouth. The smooth, slick latex membrane soon applied crushing pressure to Jenna’s already sensitive flesh. There was a slight taut pull, and the vacuum stopped. Jenna felt the ladder being removed, and the pressure of the vacuum bag taking over, it's pressure holding her at once immobile and adhered to the wall. It was an odd, but pleasurable experience. Just as she was adjusting to the situation, she noticed John putting several of the remotes on a table in front of her.
An eager woman stepped forward, grabbed a remote, and hit the button. Jenna gasped as an electric vibration wracked her rectum. Her bowels quivered as the woman continued to hit the button, a smile broadening as Jenna began to moan. Another guest, an improbably handsome man in his 30's, grabbed another remote and gingerly touched the button. A butter smooth current licked at her tits, and Jenna let a small moan escape. Meanwhile, the other woman grabbed another remote and hit it with the energy she was applying to the butt-plug. Jenna felt nuclear knocks pounding her pussy. The electric overload was too much. Jenna felt a small trickle of fluid escaping her― some urine― some pure wetness― and gave up any pretense of shielding herself from shame. As she sat, glued to the wall in a clear latex trap, she felt the stares of dozens of people smiling at her. Some nodded, some snickered. She wondered how many laughed at her predicament, and how many wished they were she. As if she could take any more, the handsome man reached up, and began to put two fingers into her mouth through the latex. She had nothing to loose: no humility, no shame, no hope of privacy― she gave into her base orgasmic needs. She greedily sucked on his fingers as electricity coursed through her vagina, racked her ass, and spread like hot, melted butter across her breasts. She cared not as her first orgasm racked her body. The crowd, pleased at this exhibit, applauded― and waited for an encore. They were a demanding lot.
John, pleased, was far from satisfied. While 2 of 6 was OK, only a 1/3 success rate was hardly good. He left Jenna to her torture/pleasure, and once again grabbed the next woman on the list. Marie, brown skinned, brown haired, beautiful was in full orgasmic envy of Jenna, and was not easily led away to her assignment. The ravishing 24 year old was 5'3” and only 105 lbs. These attributes would serve well. John led her to another small room, where Mrs. Smith was smiling sweetly. All apprehension seemed to melt away as John explained things.
“Basically― have you ever eaten Jello, Marie?”
While strange enough, she felt compelled to answer him.
“Well― now it's going to eat you.”
Marie was flummoxed. Eaten by Jello? She'd never been a desert before― the thought intruiged her.
“Do explain,” she prompted.
John pointed towards the small Plexiglas cube in front of them.
“We have a special gelatin mix... actually very similar to Jello... and were going to imbed you in a cube of it. As long as we keep it below 60 degrees, it will stay solid.”
Jenna stared, partly uncomprehending, partly fantasizing.
“OK... is there more?” She led John. After witnessing the gynoid aspects of Jenna's ordeal, she suspected a similar setup.
“Uh, yeah― ah, remember Jenna's electrical stuff... ”John murmured.
“Yes!” Marie practically yelped.
“Well, that's practically pedestrian compared to what we're going to do to you.”
Jenna's smile collapsed, replaced by suspicion and terror. A small ripple ran down her spine. When it ended in her clit, however, she new she had no choice.
“Hook me up.”
“You have no idea... ' John muttered.
Jenna gulped, and let a few small tears roll down her smooth, white cheeks.
Jenna noticed, upon careful inspection, that the cube had two round openings, one at each end. As she crawled into the cube, she found she could fit, if she kneeled on hands and knees. She sat, quivering and nervous, but the petite lady's warm smile made her fears melt away. The lady applied some warm lube to Marie's vagina, and ass. Surprisingly, she faced Marie, and motioned her to open her mouth. Marie received a mouth basting of lube, and began to protest until the lady hushed her, and placed her own ruby-red warm lips on Marie's. Marie, shockingly to herself, welcomed this. Marie had no time to ponder this turn of events, as the lady and John simultaneously wheeled two long metal poles into position, and pushed them through the holes in the cube. Marie gasped, feeling trapped in some sort of medieval erotic torture chamber. They stopped to check, and the lady carefully aligned the dildo and butt-plug ends while John set the front pole into her mouth. On signal, the both pushed. Marie felt compressed as the pole pushed deep into her rectum, and filled her slit. John practically gagged her, and the end feel was like she was going to be basted, roasted, and served as dinner. They then lashed her hands and ankles to the poles and stepped back. They seemed happy, and turned to the next step. A small compressor with some sort of tank full of a thick, gelatinous gel rested next to it. The lady put a small clear breathing tube into Marie's nose, cementing it closed, and looped the hose out of the mold's top. The filler hose from the machine was pulled over like some small, sinister cement mixer, and Marie felt a cold, thick glop begin to splatter off of her back as the Jello mixture began to fill the case. It was surprisingly fluid, and fairly warm. As it approached her eyes and nose, Marie panicked... but there was nothing to do. She squealed as the goo covered her head, and filled the cube completely. Out of curiosity, Marie opened her eyes, and was surprised at the clarity of which she could see. Not quite as blurred as underwater vision... but not as clear as normal. She could still clearly make out John and his accomplice in the room. They both grabbed the case and lifted Marie in her jello jail onto a thin metal plate, about 6” thick. Instantly, Marie felt a chill. Apparently this was a cooling tray of some sort. As the temperature sank, the gelatin became more solid. Within 2 minutes, Marie could no longer move. Out of pure stupidity, she had kept her eyes open, and now had them glued open. Within a few more seconds, the now cold cube was as solid as rubber.
Marie felt like some animal, entombed alive in an acrylic block, some sample to be seen and admired. Next, the lady opened some hinges on the cube, and the walls dropped away. Marie was now suspended by the solid cube of gelatin, the metal poles in her ass, pussy and mouth equally fixed in place. Shockingly, Marie felt a mild current pulse through her body as the lady apparently hit some switches at the ends of the poles. John walked in front of her vision, and waved at Marie; equal parts naughty and nice shone on his face. She saw him mouth “Sorry... a bit...” and then felt it hit. An electrical storm emanating from the poles invaded her body. Arcing bolts rampaged her asshole, lancing her clit and lips, then connected with her tongue and lips in front. She suddenly saw the silver lining of her situation as the tears from her eyes now lubricated the open orbs.
John stared at her, then at the lady, then gave thumbs up. With a heave, they lifted Marie by the poles, and carried her fresh-caught-game style into the main hall. Another cooling plate on a four-foot pedestal greeted her. She gasped as she saw the multitude of men and women staring at her. She felt like some insect, trapped in amber, as she was on display. She was, however, a living and interactive display. She saw a tall man curiously poke the button on the pole in her mouth, and saw him smile as his wife came around and began pushing the button on her rear pole. The current arcing between her ends made her feel like a battery being drained of orgasmic energy. She could do nothing as a wave of orgasms pounded her. The crowd seemed pleased, and lines formed to give the necessary pleasure to Marie for some time to come...
John felt an increasing wave of satisfaction... half done with his plan... and all looked well, indeed. His next volunteer, Donna, stood nearby, obviously shocked and smitten with Marie's situation. John once again steered her away into a small room. Mrs. Smith greeted them. John had chosen Donna because she was his best 'statue.' On numerous occasions, her curvy, statuesque form had fooled museum guests into thinking that they were admiring some Greco-Roman masterpiece, only to be humbled and shocked when Donna moved. She was used to being motionless, and John had banked on this.
“Uh, what's up?” Donna stuttered.
“Well― many things actually― the clouds, sky... ” he let his joke flop.
“I meant here!” Donna pouted. She felt a rush of fear suddenly creep into her frame. The petite lady took her hand, and began to smooth Donna's full breasts. In spite of herself, Donna moaned as the lady's fine fingers smoothly stroked each nipple. Donna melted in acquiescence.
“You're going to be a marble, nude statue.” John uttered bluntly.
Donna was not shocked― it was a normal enough assignment― the nude part was new, but very intriguing.
“And, uh, you know how the others had, uhm, 'devices'... ”
“I'm getting wired, too?” It was more of a resignation than question.
“OK.” Jenna gulped, but secretly grinned.
After she disrobed, she saw some sort of spray chamber in the room. She was used to prosthetics and make-up application, but this seemed serious. The petitle lady had once again intimated that Donna go to all fours, and when she did, slid the metal dildo/butt-pug into place. The nipple plates followed, and just as she was adjusting to the fullness, John zapped her. A long, low groan came growling from Donna's mouth. Recovering, her quivering body raised itself, and she readied for part two. The lady took two large, scleraL contact lenses from a small plastic case. The full eye, white contacts almost looked like marble themselves. She carefull opened Donna's eyelids, and expertly placed them onto her eyeballs. Donna blinked, and marvelled at how well she could still see, though everything had a milky haze to it. Next, they put a marlbesque hair piece on her head to simulate a marble coiffure. The lady now escorted Donna to the chamber. It opened like a normal shower, but when closed, obviously was airtight. A slight pang of clausterphobia hit Donna, but the lady put her hand against the plastic wall, and Donna felt compelled to do likewise. Some invisible link seemed to bond them, and Donna was immediately at rest. She closed her eyes, and saw the lady remove some remote control joystick from the wall. She motioned for Donna to spread-eagle her arms and legs. Donna stood firmly, and saw a small mechanical arm with spray nozzLE descend into the chamber. She braced, and heard a small hissing, and felt a smooth spray of fine particulate and adhesive hit her skin. It was an oddly pleasing mix. While the marble dust was gritty, its adhesIve was almost oily, and caused the whole mixture to feel luxurious. The sprayer started with her feet, and hissed its way upward like some Medusa serpent spitting fine marble dust over her naked skin. The mix seemed to dry somewhat upon contact with Donna's skin. The sprayer continued, mechanically and unrelentingly up her legs, coating her already white thighs in an alabaster paste. Donna felt a small bit of humility as the sprayer covered her lips and sealed the dildo/butt-plug. She felt her ass being sealed, and realized she had never felt like she was becoming a statue before. She had always felt like she was playing the part. This was an altogether erotic, yet terrifying transforrmation. The sprayer was unrellenting, spraying her belly and ass cheeks. Her breasts, nipples and areola were now whitewashed. Her smooth neck, chin, cheeks and face were last. The wHoosh stopped, and the sprayer ascended into the ceiling again. Next, a series of UV lights appeared to come on, and Donna felt an electric tingle as the air seared her coating, transforming it from a viscous paste into a stiff shell. She instinctively assumed a splayed pose, and felt the marble shell around her limiting her movements. She opened her eyes and felt the willing arms of John and the lady lay her down. The sprayer coated her feet soles, and cured them as well. She was now a true marble statue.
John and the lady placed her on a small hand cart, and wheeled her out to the main hall. The carefully placed her on the prepared dAIs, and stepped back to view their sculptured flesh. Donna, for all intents and purposes, WAS NOW an inanimate chisled figure of stone. Her smooth curves and cuts were now alabaster stone smooth. Motionless, she sat on her dAIs, as a crowd approached. Donna watched through her opaque lenses and wondered where the remotes for her pleasure were.
John reached under the dAIs and flipped a switch. Donna felt a small wave of current eminating from her ass begin to spread out. Strangely, as John walked away, it too dissipated. Shortly, a young woman approached, and the wave washed over her again, and intensified as more people came near. That was it, Donna marveled, it was motion activated. The bigger the crowd, the bigger the pleasure. She practically squeAled (as well as she could) as a young man waved his friends over. By the time 12 people had arriveD, Donna was borderline unconscious; the current radiating from her rectum had flashed into ther pussy, and was causing her nipples to swell and ache dully. As she saw 5 more people approach, she moaned and felt juices, trapped within her, wash and flow. Her packed ass felt a bloat of backpressure, and she knew the next 55 minutes would be the greatest humiliation― greatest eroto-orgasmic spell of her life, and she cried― partly in pain, but mostly in anticipation...
Melissa, was truly a doll... no, really... she was the resident 'dolly-gal” of the crew. There was just something about her appearance that made her look just right for the jobs she got: parties, mall store launches. She'd been mannequins, full-size Barbies, Raggedy Ann, you name it. This was why John knew she'd love this assignment. She was similarly aghast/exhilarated at seeing Jenna and the other girls consumed and orgasmically eviscerated by their exhibits. Once again, John gently steered her back into the spray room. Melissa seemed far more distressed than the others, her voice unsteady, lips quivering.
“I can't John,” she cried.
“You can Melissa,” John soothed.
“No― not this― it's, its... degrading, humuliating― no way!” Tears began to flow down her round, sculpted cheekbones.
As if on cue, Mrs. Smith walked into the room, and a sense of calm came. She walked to Melissa, put her arms around her, and put her face into Melissa's neck, and began to kiss and bite her neck. Melissa groaned, and in spite of her overwhelming fear, agreed to trust her.
John flashed a grin her way, and pulled a large dildo/butt-plug unit from behind his back, like some mad magician.
“Cum to papa,” He purred.
Melissa shuffled towards him, her mind numb, and her crotch on fire.
After disrobing, and having Melissa go on all fours, Mrs. Smith once again, ran knowing hands over Melissa's genitals, liberally lubing them, cunt, ass and all. She was led to the spray chamber, and sealed in. Melissa's breathing became labored, and she looked distinctly distraught as the sprayer descended and a fine, flesh colored spray began to coat her shapely calves. Her thighs were similarly sealed, and her crotch and ample cheeks were soon sealed as well. Her nipples, erect and painfully swollen, betrayed her, as she writhed with pleasure feeling the spray coat each one in succession. Her face was sprayed, and the bald cap the petite lady had affixed earlier was also coated. Again, the UV lights came on, and Melissa experienced the gentle contraction of the chemical coating, effectively sealing her skin, and making her immobile. Next, they removed her, coated her soles, and dried them. The lady took out a small airbrush, and carefully made it appear as if seams were showing on her arms, wrists and waist. She reloaded some crimson rouge color and sprayed her cheeks to make Melissa appear more artificial. She applied long lashes, and the effect was stunning. Melissa was now a nude, sexless mannequin.
She warily saw John approach her with a thin metal rod with a base. Oh no! The pleading in her eyes made John fell a little shameful, but mostly impatient.
“I think you need all the support you can get Melissa.”
He unceremoniously put the pole into her ass and cunt. The base did help her keep steady, but it felt like it was expanding within her. Soon, it felt as if her bowels and womb were full of metal. An uneasy fullness made her nervous. John stared woefully at his worker.
The shock she felt ripped through her clit, smoldered into her ass, and made her quiver throughout her body. John turned to Mrs. Smith and nodded approvingly.
“Oh, that'll do just fine... ”
On a small dolly, the stiff 'Melissaquin' was rolled out to her display. She was placed verticalLY, and almost immediately drew attention. Her smooth skin proved impossible not to touch, and as a muscular man in his 20's began to rub a finger on her inner right thigh, his touch created a circuit, and current flowed through her crotch. Apperently, the other guests were so taken with other displays, no one but this lone man had noticed her. He used this to his advantage, and pressed his whole body against her. The electric avalanche almost brought her down― down upon her pole, wHich caused her already swollen clit to throb and pulse in a pre-orgasmic convulsion. He gently flicked his tongue over her nipples as she hovered on the edge of cumming. She felt his massive erection poke her belly, and that was it― an impossibly catastrophic climax rocked her― and a fluid trickled down the post, shamefully revealing her true feelings. A small crowd began to gather to inspect their new exhibit.
“Oh my... it looks like someone is enjoying themselves!” a woman purred.
The red paint hid Melissa's already red blush. The lady who had publicly noted Melissa's wetness, bent over for a closer inspection, and grabbed her thighs, then her ass cheeks.
The electricity was soon overwhelming as the lady's tongue found its target. Melissa’s swollen clit was now so huge and red; it protruded past the pole in her privates. The lady's tongue flicked, fluttered and then began to suck at Melissa's clit. The man continued his oral assault on her nipples, and Melissa again succumbed to orgasm, only wishing something could fill her mouth... partly to stifle her moans, and partly to satisfy the only hole left in her body aching for pleasure.
John was truly pleased with the results; only one last model and the evening would be a resounding success. He went to the small waiting room where Serena sat suspiciously eyeing him... and rightly so... after witnessing the events that befell her companions. Serena was very angular woman: 5'5” with muscles but slender... a perfect gynoid to be. He led her, trembling (was she pulling back a little?) toward the spray room once again.
A determined looking woman stood, signaling Serena towards her with one seductive finger. Serena willingly disrobed, and the woman began by having her spread her legs. She applied a latex cover over her sex, and moved upwards, putting two small disks over each nipple. Next, a bald cap was glued into place... but this was no ordinary cap. It was more like an all face latex ski mask. It covered her whole head, leaving only her eyes and nose exposed. Her mouth was cleanly hidden. As she let the adhesive dry, she pushed Serena towards the spray booth. Serena nervously entered, and stood with her arms and legs spread as the door latched shut, the small robotic nozzle descended, and began to spray a dull, aluminum paint onto Serena's skin. Her feet and legs began to tingle as the liquid aluminum spread, covering her torso and breasts. A final blast covered her head and face in a puff of metallic mist. Just as quickly, a small blower vent kicked in, and warm air dried the coating. Serena felt it tighten as it dried, and noticed a light sheen begin to show. The dryer died, and the latch clicked... Serena emerged... a radiant robot. The lady brought over a strange series of gizmos... lights flashing and beeping. A large ski mask looking visor fit Serena's face perfectly... it rested on her ears and covered her eyes and nose well. She appeared to have no face or hair... just a silver mask with vertical slots over her eyes. The mysterious lady then slid a small probe into her tight pussy, and one into her equally tight ass. She glued a small box to Serena's lover back, hiding the wires. While pleasurable... she didn't see how the box was going to be anything other than for looks.
John smirked as he grabbed a remote off the metal table to his left. He hit the red power button, and immediately, Serena stiffened. She felt an overwhelming current of something wash over her. She literally couldn't move, and stood there... a prisoner in her own body. John began to use the small joystick on the remote to move Serena about the room.
Herky-jerky at first, Serena lurched like Frankenstein's monster; her silver, almost sexless nude form began to walk to the door. The helpful assistant opened the door for her newest gynoid girl, and watched as a nude, polished aluminum female robot walked into a crowded party.
John decided that Serena, as any good robot, should be put to work serving humanity.
John activated a small circuit on her back unit, and Serena smoothed out instantly. She walked to the door, and began taking valet stubs from guests. Her nude form glided silently out the door of the mansion, and began to find the guests' cars, and drove them back to the porch area. Guests were encouraged to 'tip' Serena by pushing the big red button by the door. Instantly, a wild current of electricity surged into Serena's clit and ass, causing her to convulse and jerk wildly, like a robot experiencing a power surge.
Just as quickly, the program took over, and Serena began her rounds again. After the last guest had left, for fun (OK... mostly his) John programmed Serena to walk to his flatbed truck, the one he used to truck supplies around to gigs. She climbed onto the open, flat bed, and stood there. John soon strapped her ankles to the tie down points, and had his own personal robot readied for a long drive home. He figured it would take about an hour to get home... Serena's form no doubt raising eyebrows and interest as he drove home.
He unfurled a poster on the back of the cab that said “Serenabot... the next generation of home help” just to make it look like some exotic product launch. As he rolled down the drive, he caught the moonlight glinting off of Serena's smooth yet curvaceous ass. He doubted she would forget this night... and doubly doubted she would forgive him.
He smiled... the night a success... his genius already in motion for the next year's event...