The call came out of the blue. But the voice was hauntingly familiar. It had been over a year since I my unique yet erotic experience becoming a mannequin at the Indian casino in Arizona.
“I’m calling for Lindsey Ybarra. Is this Lindsey?” The tone and cadence of the man’s voice made me instantly recognize it as Richard Two Feathers from the casino.
“Yes, it is.” What the hell is he calling about?
“Ms. Ybarra, my name is Richard Two Feathers. Do you remember meeting me at the casino in Arizona the Thanksgiving before last?”
“Yes I do.” The experiences of being a mannequin in that gift shop window immediately poured through my mind. There I was, stiff and helpless, and yet it excited me in a way I couldn’t explain. It was a turn on for Carlos as well. In my last conversation with Richard, he was moving to Las Vegas to do similar things there. He was going to call me back, but never did. “What happened to you?”
“Well things took longer than I had expected. But I’ve got something going. Are you still interested in gambling to become a mannequin?”
“I guess.” My response wasn’t as immediate as it would’ve been a year ago. Carlos had been so turning on by this idea that he became kind of a junkie for freeze fetishes. At his insistence, I had kept my body shaved. Mannequin fantasies were the center of his every sexual encounter and, quite frankly, I was getting a little bored with it. In fact, it was the core of some frustration in our marriage.
“Well then I have a proposition for you. We’ve got some high rollers around the world that are coming to take part in a private gambling experience at one of the newest and best hotels in Vegas. It’s very similar to what you experienced in Arizona, but the stakes are higher for both you and them.”
“How are the stakes higher for me?”
“I’ll explain once you get here, but one area is the time you would be a mannequin. It would be a month minimum, possibly longer. But you could also win as much as $50,000. Are you still interested?”
“$50,000! You bet I’m interested. Hell, for that much money, I’d be a mannequin anytime.”
“Can you be here this Saturday?”
The rest of the week flew by and the next thing I knew I was being taken to Las Vegas in the casino’s private jet.
I had presented the situation to Carlos and he was very supportive of me potentially being gone for a month. About six months ago, Carlos had taken a sales position within his company. This put him on the road a lot, but the money was more than either of us every expected. He got a $100,000 bonus for the most recent quarter. He was scheduled to be gone seeing prospects for three of the next four weeks, so it wouldn’t be a big deal if I wasn’t there. For obvious reasons, his only regret was that he couldn’t be there with me.
Once in Las Vegas, I was taken by limo to the hotel and put up in the nicest room I had ever stayed in. Once I had gotten settled, there was a knock on the door.
It was Richard and he had two people with him. “How was your trip Miss Lindsey?”
“Wonderful,” I responded. “It’s good to be here.” I wasn’t even nervous. I had a chance at 50 grand and all I was risking was being a mannequin for a month. Easy stuff!
Richard introduced the two people as Jean and Jim. Jean was a short blond woman in her late fifties. She had a serious look on her face. Jim was a tall thin man with a rugged face. He was carrying a suitcase and a tripod.
“Jean heads up the visual merchandising for the entire casino and all its shops. Jim is a professional photographer. As part of this casino game, they will need to photograph you for some of the options. I would ask that you go with them and get photographed.”
Richard then pulled me aside and requested that I would not speak to anyone about this game or the conditions of the wager. Doing so would cause me to become ineligible. He also gave me a metallic-looking pill to swallow.
“Right now?” I asked.
“Yes, please.” I swallowed the pill.
I went with Jean and Jim into the area of the casino’s shops. They ended up taking pictures of me posed in six different shops. The first was in a high-end store that sold evening gowns. They chose to have me model a black gown with a deep neck that really showed my cleavage. They had me stand in the center of the store and Jim took my picture from four angles — front, back and each side. Not the sort of glamour shot I was thinking of.
Next we went to a pro-style golf shop that exclusively carried women’s golf equipment and clothing. They chose a pair of pink shorts with a white sleeveless top with pink trim. They gave me a golf club and the store’s manager carefully posed me with the club over my head like I had just finished my swing. This was a challenge since I had never golfed.
Again Jim took pictures from the same four angles.
We then walked down the mall to a shop that featured women’s swimsuits. They had an elaborate front window display with three surfboards coming out of a big plastic wave. There were already two mannequins riding the surfboards, with small fans blowing their hair like the wind would. They had me put on a black two-piece suit and to my surprise, they photographed me standing on the third surfboard. Due to the big wave in the background, Jim could only do the front and side photographs of me.
The fourth shop was a lingerie store. This made me a little nervous; I hadn’t thought about being posed for a month only in my underwear. But it was probably worth the risk for 50 grand. The thought that did concern me is that it seemed that I would do about anything for a chance at the money.
They did two photo shoots in the store. In the first one I wore a sheer white bra and stood with my arms out from by body. I couldn’t believe that the price tag hanging on the bra was $95. That was the most expensive bra that ever touched my boobs!
The second shot at the lingerie store was unusual. They asked me to wear a pair of black pantyhose with a lacy waistband. Instead of standing up, they had me lie down on my back and then shift my butt and legs up in the air. It reminded me of an exercise that they had us do in high school. Jean posed me with one leg sticking straight up in the air and the other one bent at the knee. Jim took the same four photos.
The next shop was a high-end shop for career women. It was very nice and fit my tastes nicely. They fitted me with a wonderful skirt and jacket. The suit was a very “in” bright green. Under the jacket, I wore a black velvety top. They really didn’t care about shoes and let me go barefoot. For the photo they put me between two headless mannequin forms. Again, four photos.
The sixth and last “shop” was totally different. They took me down to the casino’s new spa. The signs said it was to have its grand opening tomorrow. There was a fountain pool in the middle of a spacious waiting area. In the middle of the pool there was a rock island that was flat on the top. The pool didn’t have water in it at this point.
Jean then asked me a question, “Lindsey, have you ever posed topless?”
“Not really,” Although I recalled there was that time back in college where some “art student” paid me $50 for a nude photo shoot. I regretting doing it and never was sure he was really an art student.
“For this shot we would like to have you standing on the rocks in the pool wearing a sheet around your waist. There will be no one here except Jim and me,” Jean explained.
Hmmm, 50 grand. I guess this isn’t that much different from that sheer $95 bra back at the lingerie store. I told myself.
In no time at all I was standing topless in the empty pool while Jean fastened the sheet around my waist. She then gave me a large water vase and asked me to hold it over my right shoulder like I was pouring water into the pool. Jim clicked his four photos and then I got dressed.
We were done and they took me back to my room. Jean asked me to go into my bedroom and get dressed in the clothes that were on my bed.
“We have to be down there in 15 minutes,” she said.
“To where you’ll play your game, of course.”
So soon! It hadn’t hit me that this would start so soon. I had thought maybe tomorrow.
I walked into my bedroom to find the business suit I had modeled an hour or so ago lying on my bed. Along with it were the top, the pantyhose and even the $95 bra. There were also a great pair of matching shoes with the stylishly pointed toes and high stiletto heels.
Once dressed, Jean worked on my hair and we headed down the elevator and onto the casino floor.
Walking through the casino, Jean and I met Richard at a single set of elevators just off the main lobby. Richard was dressed in a black tuxedo.
“Welcome, Lindsey,” Richard greeted me warmly. “There’s no turning back now, let’s head up to the game.” After a paused he added, “by the way, you look wonderful today. I’m glad you could do this again.”
I gave a meek okay and Richard waved his ID card past a screen on the elevator and a screen appeared. He touched the area entitled “Special Games Floor” and the doors opened. Jean stayed behind.
It was a fast elevator that seemed to zip up an impressive number of floors. The doors opened into a luxurious waiting room. Richard turned to me, “Please be seated, it’ll be just a minute. I’ll come and get you.”
I nervously sat in the waiting area. There was a People magazine with a story about Brad and Jennifer. I thumbed through the magazine without really reading anything. I had a conversation in my mind — Lindsey, focus on the money. Don’t get greedy. Getting greedy will make you a mannequin. Fifty grand would be nice, but if you get ten in hand just stop!
“We are ready, Ms. Ybarra. Follow me.” Richard interrupted my thoughts.
I followed him into a room that looked like the set of a game show. The audience was a group of around fifty men and a couple of women. They were all nicely dressed and it just felt like there was a lot of money in the room. They were seated dinner theater style with a small table in front of them. A few beautiful young women dressed in the casino’s theme uniforms were waiting on them with drinks and appetizers.
“Ladies and Gentlemen,” announced Richard through a microphone. “Meet Lindsey Ybarra.”
The group clapped. It was all a little overwhelming to me. Richard continued, “Lindsey is here from San Diego and she’s agreed to play WILL I BE A MANNEQUIN?”
More applause. I looked behind me and the “Will I be a Mannequin?” name was in gold letters on the wall behind me. There was a giant wheel of fortune in the middle of the room and another object covered by a black sheet.
Richard explained, “Lindsey has been a mannequin before, in Arizona. But that was only for a week. How was that experience for you, Lindsey?”
“Oh . . . fine. Okay.” I wasn’t expecting to be interviewed.
“Well Lindsey, let me tell you about the game for today. You see the wheel behind you?”
“You will notice that there are a number of stops the wheel could make. Most of them give you some money. Some are $100; others are $500 and $1,000. The frequency of those numbers is based on the odds of your landing on them. There are also some other stops on the wheel where you have a choice — you will either pay $1,000 or you can remove an item of clothing based on the vote of the audience. It’s your choice, but once you have no clothes remaining you’ll have to pay the money.”
Crap, I didn’t know this was a strip show! I guess I’ll just have to pay the money if I’m not willing to do it.
“You can spin as many times as you want until you have $50,000, but once you stop you are done. Do you understand Lindsey?”
“Yes I do.”
“You will also notice that there is also one stop on the wheel with the words ‘Will I be a Mannequin?’ If you land on that spot you must go on to our next level.” Richard then moved over to the object with the black sheet and removed the sheet. Under it was another smaller wheel. “Lindsey, this is the mannequin wheel. It has seven slots on it. One of the seven is worth $50,000. If you hit that one, you will get a prize of $50,000 plus whatever money you’ve already won. If you get one of the others, you Will Be A Mannequin and which slot you land on will determine what kind of mannequin you will become. Do you understand how this game works Lindsey?”
“I guess, but what do you mean what kind of mannequin I’m going to be?”
“I was hoping you would ask that Lindsey. Let’s look to the big screen on my left. One of the slots on the mannequin wheel says swimsuit; if you land there here’s how you’ll look in our display. . .”
On the big screen appeared my photo on the surfboard. It had been digitally altered to really make me look like a mannequin.
“If you get the golfer space, you’ll look like this . . .”
The screen changed and the photo of me as a golfer mannequin appeared. It was truly me, but altered to look like a mannequin. Plus my lower legs were gone and I was on a pedestal. Must be part of the photo manipulation.
Richard continued, “and if you get the space titled statue, you’ll look like this . . .”
There on the screen was the picture of me posed topless in the fountain. However, the color of my skin was changed to be like a marble statue. This was a little different than being in the store window of the casino.
“And if you get the space titled formal wear, you’ll look like this . . .”
Now I got a little worried, this was me in the evening gown, but without a head. This isn’t what they would really do is it?
“What do you think Lindsey? Do you like your body with no head?”
“I don’t know what to say. Are you kidding?” They’re not kidding!
“No we’re not. The technology allows us to do this safely. You won’t feel a thing and we’ll put you back together when your time is up. You can leave now if you want, but you’ll have to reimburse us for your first class airfare here and the room. It’s in the contract you signed. Remember, along with the prize of $50,000.”
I didn’t know what to say. If this guy could turn me into a mannequin for a week, he must surely be able to turn me into a headless mannequin. Maybe it’s some type of magician’s trick.
“Do you want to proceed, Lindsey?”
“I guess so, what else can I do?” With that comment, lights on the wall came on and some of the participants cheered. “What the hell?”
“Excellent Ms. Ybarra. The cheer is because many of our participants have placed bets on multiple aspects of your experience. In this case there was a 50:50 bet as to whether you would continue on after this point. Let’s proceed to the next slot on the wheel under the title career wear. . .”
The screen lit up with my body wearing the same business suit I was currently wearing. Although this was worse than the last one, I had no head and no legs. I was apparently mounted on a metal stand. They couldn’t really do this could they?
I had to ask, “Richard, can you really do this to me?”
The lights went on again; there were obviously bets placed on me making that comment.
“Yes we can and it’s totally harmless. I hope you can trust me.”
I think I was visibly shaken at this point. Somehow the stakes had really gone up. This was more than just being turned into a mannequin for a month.
“Lindsey, there’s one more slot on the wheel. If the wheel lands on “split” this is what will happen . . . “
My mind raced ahead as to what was left, but before it could get there I saw the horrifying result. Split meant me being split in two at the lingerie shop. My top half would be a headless, armless, form wearing a bra and my bottom half became a leg form displaying pantyhose with my feet sticking straight up in the air.
“Oh my god!!!” I blurted out. The lights flashed. Participants cheered. More money won. I couldn’t believe this was happening. I was literally speechless.
“Ms. Ybarra, you might have thought we were talking about a split of the playing cards. Have you every heard of a split personality? . . . Well here’s your opportunity to have a different type of split identity. And again I assure you perfectly harmless.”
I just stood there, stunned, with my hands around my neck as if to keep this from happening. I think a tear came down my cheek as well. Richard handed me a glass of wine and I took a relaxing gulp. Thinking back on it, I wonder if that wine might have had something in it to help me relax.
“Are we ready to proceed with the game?”
“Yes. Let’s do it.” There was an immense cheer from the bettors in the room.
I got off to a good start with my first spin — a thousand bucks! And my second spin added to it with another thousand! I started to calculate my odds; there were 80 spaces on the wheel and only one was printed with “Will I be a Mannequin?”
As I took my next spin, I was thinking my odds were pretty good. One-in-eighty. I could probably go all day without hitting that space. My strategy was to keep going until I had ten thousand and then stop. I realized I might lose some clothing in the process, but I had to admit I would strip for almost anyone for ten grand.
The wheel’s clicking slowed and my heart sank to my feet as the “Will I be a Mannequin?” square came to the top. “Shit!” I said aloud. The lights came on. More money had been won by my verbal reaction.
“Well, well, well, Ms. Ybarra. I did not think we would be here this soon. You have won two thousand dollars and now you have a one in seven chance of $50,000. Are you feeling lucky tonight?”
“I’m not sure.” In fact I had no confidence whatsoever that I would win that fifty grand.
Richard continued, “Lindsey, you don’t look very confident. Let me make you an offer. You can stop right now and not go for the fifty grand. You would give me your $2,000 and . . . you would become the surfer girl for a month and get to keep all your body parts. What do you think?”
This was tempting; this whole process was starting to scare me. I started to rationalize. If I took him up on his offer, this would’ve all been for nothing. And I would still end up being a mannequin. I had to go ahead.
“Richard I want to spin the wheel.” Lights went on and more cheers from the participants as I reached out and gave the wheel a hardy turn.
I think I must’ve really given the wheel a whirl because it seemed like it spun forever. I had my hands together praying for the $50,000. How cool would that be? What fun I could have with that much money. Then I started thinking about the alternatives. Odds were that I was going to be some sort of mannequin or statue a little bit from now. And I would be there for a whole month. And I had my full body in only two of the options — the surfer and the statue. But I was topless as a statue. Then there was these headless options. What would that be like? Would I really be the same afterwards?
I was in such deep thought that it was almost a surprise when the wheel stopped. And then my heart almost stopped. It had landed on the worst option in my mind — the SPLIT. A sense of dread came over my as I looked to the screen and saw what my body would soon look like. I was suddenly embarrassed to be in front of these people as well. I looked at their faces and there was a look of expectation as to what I would do next.
“Ms. Ybarra, do you have anything to say?”
“No I don’t.” Lights went on and someone in the back cheered. He had obviously bet that would be my response. Jean walked into the room.
“Jean is here. Are you ready to have her make you into a bra form and a pantyhose form? You know that’s what they call these type of mannequins.”
Back in college, I had worked a summer in a Victoria’s Secret store. I knew that’s what they were called. “No I’m not ready, but I’m guessing I don’t have a choice at this point. Do I still get to keep the $2,000?”
“But of course. However I do want to present you with another option. None of us here planned on this happening so quickly. We have just begun to enjoy you and this game. I would like to propose to you that we continue.”
“I don’t understand. I’ve lost; how can we go on?”
“You are correct; you will not be able to win $50,000. But we are willing to allow you to keep spinning for money on the big wheel.”
“Okay, but what do I risk by doing this?”
“If you choose to participate you will have ten spins on the big wheel. We will take off the Will I be a Mannequin slot and replace it with a $5,000 slot. We do ask one thing in return, that you will be our split mannequin for two months instead of one. What do you think?”
The offer seemed to be more than fair. When I was a mannequin before, time went by very fast; it probably wouldn’t have mattered if I was there twice as long. What about Carlos? Would they let me call him and see if he minded this happening to me?
“Well . . . I think I’m okay doing it, but I wish I could ask my husband’s opinion.”
“It is interesting you should say that, because your husband is just outside. He had asked if he could be here to witness your transformation if it did occur. Shall we invite him in?”
Carlos came in and was escorted to a table in the back. I’m not sure why but they wouldn’t allow him to come up and interact directly with me. I was able to ask him the question: “Should I do this?”
He shook his head ‘yes’ and a lump came through my throat. I looked back up at the screen. Most likely I would be just like that for two months. I would just get some money to take home with me. I looked at Richard and gave him a nod okay.
“Excellent choice Ms. Ybarra. You are delighting all of us today.” The room erupted in applause.
“I have one more option for you to consider. A Bonus Round! Once you’ve had your 10 spins we’ll count your money. If you have enough you can choose to spin the small wheel again. It will cost $5,000 a spin. We will remove the ‘split’ square so that you have a one in six chance for the 50 grand. However, if you land on a mannequin square you will have to spend a month as that mannequin. We would give you a week’s break in the normal world before you become a mannequin again. Plus you can spin multiple times—it’s just $5,000 a spin. After each spin we’ll remove the space you landed on, thus improving your odds for the 50 grand. What do you think of that?”
“We’ll see. Can I decide after my first ten spins?”
“But of course. Are you ready for your first spin?”
“Sure.” I reached out and gave the wheel a spin. Things started out well as I landed on the $1,000 space. I was up to $3,000! Maybe my luck was changing.
My second spin hit $500 and my third spin was another $1,000. I had $4,500.
Spin number four hit another $500. I had $5,000.
Then spin number five. I hit a strip space. The participants cheered. I couldn’t believe it. It was a big deal for them to see me take off some of my clothes.
“Ms. Ybarra, you now have a choice. You can either pay $1,000 or have them vote for you to take of an item of clothing.”
This was an easy decision. They had already seen pictures of my mannequin form in a bra and pantyhose. Might as well let them see the real thing. I glanced at Carlos and could see that he was okay with me stripping. I figured it would probably be my top. I gave the go ahead to Richard to have them vote. More applause!
The vote was electronic and it came quickly — my skirt. I wasn’t expecting that, but it was okay. The guy in the sound booth put on some strip music. I smiled big and reached behind me to unzip the skirt. I then slid it off, to more cheers from the audience. I noticed that even one of the women in the audience was smiling. This wasn’t so bad.
Spin number six. Dammit I hit the strip again. The group cheered some more. Richard looked to me for direction. “Sure,” I said. I had to admit that the cheers were very flattering.
The answer was just was I expected — my top. The strip music came back on. The black sleeveless top had a small zipper at the back of the neck. I reached behind and unzipped it. As I pulled the top over my head, it hit me that I wasn’t wearing my normal full coverage bra. Instead I was wearing the skimpy $95 bra from the lingerie store that had extremely sheer cups. Things were rolling, the group was cheering and there wasn’t much I could do about it at this point. Jean was there to take my top and a moment later I stood in front of all these people in my underwear. This was like a bad dream, only they didn’t cheer and applaud in the dream.
I made a quick decision. I had always thought my tits were the best part of my figure and I might as well stand up straight and be proud of them. Someone from the back yelled out, “nice rack, Lindsey.” I gave a meek “thanks” in return.
I was ready to go on but Richard was distracted by one of the participants, a large rotund bald man with a red beard. He was nicely dressed and looked like he had a lot of money. In response to the man’s question, Richard left for a minute to talk with one of the staff.
He came back. “Ladies and Gentlemen, there is now another betting opportunity on your screen. You have 10 seconds to respond, starting…NOW.” I didn’t get what was going on until Richard came over to speak with me.
“Lindsey, someone has suggested that you take a break and take drink orders instead of our other ladies. You can keep the tips. What do you think?”
Well, money is what it’s all about at this point. “Sure.”
I went from person to person and took the orders. These people were all really nice. With one exception, they were encouraging. That patron was a cocky young guy who said he was looking forward to seeing me totally naked. I felt a little dirty. By the time I was done taking the orders, the bar had them ready for delivery. That’s when the tips came. And were they good! These were obviously high rollers. I got $1,200 — one guy tipped me $300 just for telling him my bra size. “Let me know if you want anything else!”
With $6,200 in hand, I gave the wheel spin number seven. Only a hundred bucks.
Spin number eight was a hundred again. Dammit all anyway! I was up to $6,400.
Things didn’t improve with spin number nine. I got the strip again!
Before the vote, Richard posed a question for me. “Ms. Ybarra, without saying it out loud, do you think you know the article of clothing they will ask you to remove?”
“Yes I do,” was my response.
“Do you feel confident enough to place a wager on the response?”
“Any amount up to the full amount you have won so far.”
Hmmm. This Richard is tricky. He knew I was thinking about not doing this and now he had me bet on it. It’s got to be my bra, any normal guy can’t wait to see a woman’s tits. I could bet big and win big. What have I got to lose? I could be the whole $6,400. It would be the shits if I lost. But I won’t, “Let’s go with $5,000.”
Richard asked me to write down the item on a tablet he handed me. When I was done, he asked the audience to vote.
The bell rang indicating the votes were all in and Richard came over to me, “Lindsey, show us your answer, please.” I held up my tablet with the word “bra” written on it. The group’s answer popped on the screen. BRA. It was a match. I was up to $11,400. Dammit, why didn’t I bet the whole thing.
The cheering stopped and everyone was looking at me. “Oh, I guess you want me to take off the bra.” I said nervously as I reached being my back for the hook. This was totally out of character for me. I had once waited three months for a female doctor just because I didn’t want a male doctor touching me. I tried to make some humor but no one bought it, “seems to be stuck.” This got a few applause and one chuckle. I slowly slid the bra off my breasts and down over my arms. I was cold enough in the room that my nipples were hard and erect. The group cheered. I smiled.
“I’m ready for more drinks,” shouted one guy. The others concurred, so I did another drink round. Carlos was all grins when I came to him. I’ll not sure what it was, but I knew that this whole thing was a real turn-on for him. I couldn’t believe that I was standing in front of all these people in just pantyhose and high-heeled shoes.
I got another $1,500 in tips. Two different guys paid $200 each to have their picture taken with me. The big bald guy looked over and winked at Carlos while giving me his phone number. Again, I was flattered even though I knew they weren’t looking me in the eye any more. I now had $12,900.
Richard spoke up, “one more spin and for this spin we are going to double the winnings and the penalties.” I quickly realized that I only had two items of clothing left, the pantyhose and the shoes. The pantyhose were a brand with built-in panties. If I hit the strip square I would have to pay $2,000 or be completely nude.”
I reached out and spun the wheel a final time. It spun and spun and looked like it was going to come up with strip, but it ended up clicking once more to a $1,000. Once doubled, that amount gave me $14,900 — not quite enough for three extra spins at the small wheel.
The group cheered and the bald guy ran up and gave me the extra $100 so that I could afford those three spins.
“Well Ms. Ybarra, would you like to try for $50,000?”
I took a deep breath to think about it. The odds seemed good, I could start with a one in six chance, move to a one in five chance and end up with a one in four chance. Plus I had three chances in total to win the money. When I came to Vegas, I had said that I wasn’t going to be tight. I would go for it. But that was before I knew about being a mannequin without body parts. Plus I already have two months as a pair of forms. And fifteen grand isn’t bad. What to do?
“Ms. Ybarra, do you have a decision?”
“I’ll go for at least one spin.”
“Let me remind you that if this lands on a mannequin, you’ll have only one week between finishing off at the lingerie store and the next assignment.”
I nodded, then reached out and spun the wheel. In the stress of it all, I almost forgot that I was topless. I think my wish was to be the statue, but the wheel showed otherwise. It chose that I would become a headless mannequin modeling an evening gown.
The group let out an audible moan. They had been routing for me to get the money. However, a couple of guys, including Carlos, let out a cheer. That bastard Carlos had been betting for me to become a mannequin!
With ten grand left, I decided to call it quits. Richard tried to sweeten the pot and change my mind. When I told him my choice was the statue, he offered to allow all the remaining slots to be statues. I still declined. I won that ten grand, I told myself.
It was kind of a relief to be done. I had truly forgotten about the next step until I felt my body get stiff and saw Jean with the remote control in her hand. It was time to become the split forms.
Jean came over and slipped the bra back over my breasts and shoulders. I felt my breasts move up into place when she hooked the bra in back of me. I could tell that the remote control worked in combination with the pill inside me, and possibly the camera shot, to make me pose just like the photos taken earlier. I could feel my shoulders pulling back and my legs posing just like the forms in the photo.
I heard Jean click a button on the remote and I felt a knife-like pain across my waist.
Richard came over and lifted the top half of my body off from the bottom half.
I could still talk and the words “Holy Cow!” came out of my mouth. There was a beep; someone had won some money.
Jean then turned my pantyhose clad bottom upside down and I felt the force of the process, posing me just like the pantyhose form in the photo on the screen.
Richard had set my upper half on a Roman pillar that one of the assistants had brought in.
My arms stiffened to a pose away from my body. My breasts felt full and pert. I felt my neck straighten as my head gazed straight forward. I could see fascination on the eyes of all the participants.
“You may come closer if you wish,” Richard beckoned to them. They came and gathered around me.
“Can you still speak Ms. Ybarra?”
“Yes I can,” although my speech was getting stiff as well.
“You are going to make a great pantyhose form and a great bra form as well. How does it feel?”
“Okay I g-g-g-guess . . .” At that point I felt a sharp pain in each arm just below the shoulder. Jean came and literally snapped off my arms. “Only one more thing to go.”
“That’s correct Lindsey. I’ve invited Carlos to give you a two-month goodbye kiss.”
Carlos gave me a wonderful loving kiss, but my mouth was stiff at that point. A second later I felt the same tinge of pain across the highest point of my neck and Jean lifted off my head. The transformation was complete, I was reduced to a bra form and I would be that way for two months.
Jean put my parts in a box and carried me to an area where my head and arms were placed for storage. She then took my two forms to the lingerie store. The manager had no idea of my temporary predicament and my gambling addiction. My bra form was put in a display just inside the front door. I shared the display with another bra form and a torso form. I wondered if they had been to see Richard as well.
Across the store, I could see the manager set my pantyhose form in a hosiery display with two other pantyhose forms.
My two months had started.
In a mall in Las Vegas, night and day looked the same and I found it hard to keep track of time after what was probably a few days, yet I had no idea whether it had been days or weeks. I couldn’t tell night or day either.
The more time passed, the more I felt like a form rather than a person. I watched the people coming in and out of the store. I think most every one of the participants came into the store at one point or another. The bald big guy tried to buy my pantyhose form from the store manager. I’m glad she said no, who knows what he would’ve done with me.
At least once a day some guy touched my boobs or the boob of one of my fellow forms. Kind of sleazy, but I loved being touched. It was kind of sexual to me.
Every now and then, some woman would comment wishfully about our boobs. I wished I could say thank you. For the most part I just sat there and did whatever a form does!
I would go in and out of sleep, which contributed to not knowing the time of day.
One time I was awakened to a wonderful erotic feeling. God it felt soooo good. At first I couldn’t figure out what it was, and then I realized that the manager was changing the pantyhose that I was wearing. I almost melted on the spot when she rubbed her hands down my legs to smooth on the new pantyhose. When she was done, without knowing it she really turned me on! She was dusting the shelf where we sat when the phone rang. The dust rag was very soft and she laid it down right on my upturned crotch. It’s presence there was wonderful and even more wonderful when the manager slid it off to continue her work.
At some point, they changed my bra as well. One of the young girls had that task. She took off our bras and then became very busy with customers. When she had a break she finished dressing the torso and then moved to me and the other form. They must’ve been out of my size, because she really had to work to get this new bra fastened. I could feel the pressure on my ribcage (if I still even had a rib cage).
Finally the time came to put me back together. I had felt the time was coming and it was confirmed when Jean came to pick me up. I felt sorry for the other mannequins. She took me back to the studio where we had started. I was surprised that a few of the participants came back to see me put together.
Jean activated the remote and I could feel an incredible warmth where these body parts were going to be reattached. My head was first and I could immediately talk. Wow.
“So, how was it,” she asked.
“Well I’m fine. It was an interesting experience. I really wasn’t a person any more in any sense of the word.”
After getting my parts together, I felt and incredible warmth throughout my body. I could move again. Jean had brought my original clothes. Then she mentioned something new to me. My next stay in the evening wear shop started in just four weeks. But I couldn’t leave the hotel during that time.
At first this seemed like a real inconvenience, but in the end it was very relaxing. I had free reign at the pool and spa. I’ve never felt so relaxed. I walked through the shops and spent extensive time looking at the mannequins and forms. In an upscale place like this they were all very beautiful and intriguing. I remembered the headless mannequins in a shop back home in San Diego. They weren’t as nice as these.
Carlos came to visit during that month and I was reminded that this whole experience was a real turn-on for him. Although I didn’t remember it, he had come by many times while I was in the lingerie shop. He had even taken photos, showing me some. I had to admit that I did look great.
After sex, he confessed that he had closed his eyes and imagined that I was still a pantyhose form and a bra form. He imagined the girls at the shop dressing me, and that turned him on even more. I didn’t know how much of this I wanted to hear.
The time then came for me to report back to Jean to be made into the headless mannequin for a month. When I got there, Jean had me take off all my clothes and then put on the dress without any underwear. She then used the remote and again I felt myself move into the mannequin pose. She was meticulous in her detail.
Once posed I felt the same sharp pains across my waist, shoulders, wrists and one of my legs. I though she had made a mistake and had made me into a form. But this wasn’t the case. Instead it was creating the pivot points where she could take me apart. My head was the last to go. This would’ve panicked me more a couple of months ago, but not now. I knew what was going on.
Jean used a hand truck to take me to the store. The worst part was standing nude while riding in the mall.
Once in the store, I was placed in the window with a clear view of my old spot in the lingerie store. The window dresser first put me into pantyhose and heels. My mind went back to being topless in front of the gaming group. I wasn’t as concerned now. I was just another naked mannequin.
Then the dress. It felt wonderful and sexy. The long v-neck really showed off my great mannequin cleavage. I really liked being headless — no one could see my face. Besides I knew I looked good!
In that position I heard many women state how them loved the dress I was wearing. Although many people had the clerk check to see what size I was wearing, no one ever considered it enough to buy it. Until one day toward the end of my time there. It was a young teen-age girl buying a dress for the prom. We were the same size. The clerk stood in front of me and removed my arms, having no idea that I could understand what she was doing.
Without my arms to hinder, the dress was unzipped and easily slid over my shoulders. I stood naked while the girl tried it on. A few minutes later she came back and showed off to mom wearing the dress. She ended up buying the dress and I was really happy for her. She would look great. As the clerk got ready to get me dressed again, Jean was there. My time was up.
I was taken back to the gameshow area and Jean used the remote. She easily got rid of the pivot points, but she had a little problem with my head. It wasn’t working right and she had to find Richard.
The weird thing was that I could move. Carlos was there to watch and although he was concerned about my long-term safety, this really turned him on. I was able to get dressed in my regular clothes when we got word that Richard was just landing from a recruiting trip to L.A. and wouldn’t be there for an hour or so.
Then Carlos got the wild idea that we should go to his room and had sex. “You’ve got to be kidding!” He wasn’t.
Before I knew it my head was in a bag and he and Jean had me dressed in a hoody, stuffed so that he could take me down the elevator, across the casino floor and to our room. Nuts, I thought, but we did it.
Once in the room I stripped and he came at least three times. It was good for me, but nothing in the range that it was for him. Then he got a really crazy idea, “Lindsey, why don’t you have oral sex with yourself? You always complain that I don’t do it soft enough or in the right spot. You can do it your own way this time.”
After arguing that he had really gone off his rocker without me around, I agreed to try it. I laid back on the bed with my legs apart and Carlos put my head in my hands. He rubbed my shoulders and caressed my breasts while I put my head between my legs. I quickly found out that I could do it better myself. In the next hour or so, I experienced the best orgasms of my life. I think Carlos might have shot his wad just watching.
Eventually Richard got there and my head was reattached without any problems. Carlos and I went on with our lives, but from that day on it was different.
I’ve never been the same. Something about me changed. I now longed to be put on display. Anytime I go shopping, I feel a special kinship with all the mannequins. I feel bad when I see one of them mistreated. After months of this, I actually called Richard to see if I could do the game again. He confessed that the program had been discontinued. Evidently they started having problems getting body parts reattached. My problem wasn’t the last time that happened.
I told him I would be willing to take the risk. He still refused. I offered to be a statue. He refused. I was a mess. I found myself wanting to stand around the house in lingerie, posing as a mannequin. I’ve offered to be a living mannequin for different stores. They don’t see the need or the opportunity. I wouldn’t even charge them, I said, but still no chance.
I’m not sure what I’ll do next, but I would welcome suggestions.