Number Seven
After the dominas had taken a five minute break and had another drink, they masked themselves again and returning to the cellar where they were met by Miko, who had now put the two fillies, still with the heavy rubber horses heads locked on, into their suspended rubber body bags for the night. Miko looked forward to more spirited reaction tomorrow. They now hung like chrysalis, suspended in double thick rubber bags a foot off the ground, arms and legs held in rigid sleeves and only their strange horse’s heads protruding from the bags, saliva continuing to dribble out of the mouths accompanied by the occasional low moan.
Miko wanted them to get used to the heads, as they would be wearing them for a good part of their remaining lives. Soon they would be truly broken and would be lowering their heads to welcome the rubber horse’s heads and opening their mouths voluntarily to accept the dildo bits without so much as a whimper. As a help to sleep, each had been blinkered and they swung silently in their dark, warm, wet prison. It would not be a very comfortable night for them.
Now the four women would turn their attentions to number seven. But number seven required little attention as this evening she was about to leave. They moved to cell 7 and left the door open, for there was no chance of number seven escaping anywhere or at any time in the future. Standing in the middle of cell seven was a rigid, naked mannequin!
“Ta daa!” Emma said proudly, as the four women encircled the motionless statue.
“Amazing.” Mistress Stern said as she tapped the hard skin of the mannequin. “So tell me everything my dear, you all have a right to be proud.”
Emma smiled rather shyly and then in her perfect private schoolgirl’s accent related poor number seven’s history.
“Well, yes, let’s start with the package first. You will recall that we acquired Terri about three weeks ago. Her disappearance after the boating accident seems to have convinced everybody, including her family, and the police and the funeral was two days ago, and Terri, the world famous model is no more. Two weeks ago we took a set of complete casts of her, fully shaven of course, head, body and pubes. From the mould an anatomically perfect mannequin of her was created.”
“The cast is marginally larger than her, allowing her to breathe but she really can do little else. The inside is rubber-lined – we knew you would like that - and the outside is this new polymer acrylic coating. It is light and extremely strong but of course the critical feature, almost revolutionary really, is that with the use of a small hair dryer warming up the outside, the skin becomes more malleable and she can be moved into any position we want, before she cools and hardens again. And I mean any position!” She laughed saucily.
Mistresss Stern could not help but admire dear Emma. Here was a young English rose, with an angel’s face, the picture of innocence, and the devious mind of the most cruel of women.
“If you look closely down her side you will see it is effectively made in two sections; and the front and back fit together perfectly, you can hardly see the seal. There are two small locks here under the armpits and at the knees. So very simply we drug her to unconsciousness, lay her in the back portion and the front is closed over her and locked. The facial expression exactly mimics the Terri we all loved in the fashion pages, doesn’t it? The mouth is slightly open in a cute sexy pout cum kiss. In reality this allows her owner to feed her by tube between her lips.”
“We thought hard, as you know, about severing her vocal chords, but we love gagging don’t we? So we took a cast of the inside of her mouth and created a perfectly fitting pliable rubber gag. So she is well and truly gagged, she cannot wriggle her tongue or move her jaw – it really is wonderfully effective, and more fun than turning them into mutes, I think.”
The others nodded in agreement, it was always much more fun watching a live, vibrant woman silenced against her will.
“The tube extends down her throat and into her stomach, we have already fed her once and it works fine. The eyes are a one-way glass, so she can see quite well out but no one can see in. She can blink, there is just enough room for that. In her predicament, maybe she won’t want to see out – just close her eyes and relax! Or try to relax, ha ha. We were going to plug her ears but we like the idea that she can see and hear the outside world – it is so close, but she can do nothing, nothing about making contact with it. It’s very cruel, we know but we like that, don’t we? She was such a self-important little piece of fluff; like all models, so inflated in her own opinions and what was she, a mere clothes hanger. So why would her opinions be any more important than anyone else’s? Anyway, we won’t be hearing fatuous statements from her any more!”
It was true of course, the others laughed at the demise of the super-model, now statuesque in front of them; and more to the point able to hear every word. But what she thought of it, they didn’t care. Emma laughed and knelt between her legs.
“Now her…nether regions; and this I have to say is pretty cool stuff – not for her of course. When in public, like a good mannequin she will be wearing panties. This means her front and back will be covered up. By the same small key as we use to lock her in, these two snug plates can be removed. Right now she has a three inch butt plug up her cute little bum, she is well plugged I can tell you. This plate can be unlocked and replaced with any one of these other plates.” Emma pointed to the table containing some brutal looking dildos, knobbed, thicker, thinner with ribbed edging – and tubes as well for cleaning her out. The other women admired them, thinking of the discomfort poor Terri would be going through.
“Now we move to the front. A similar base plate, nicely designed with a vertical cleft. The small gap here allows us to slide in a catheter to drain her, say once or twice a day. Inside her she has a six-inch dildo with a tube to allow the catheter to pass through. The rear tube allows her to be enema’d while still in the suit. Oh yes, and here at the ankles there are two small drain holes to drain her sweat. I think she can probably remain in here for four to five days without any problem, before being unlocked for cleaning. The issue is really looking after the suit and cleaning the rubber, we could keep her in here a lot longer. To stop any hysterics, and we all know what prima donnas models are, see this small hole at the neck; this allows a syringe to be inserted to put her out ready for cleaning etc, so that during all her conscious, awakened state she is trapped in here, in the perfect replica of herself.”
“Fantastic, girls, and how does our client feel about all this?”
“Oh he’s delighted of course; he’s happily coming up with £200,000 to have his live mannequin on 24 hour call for him. He was greatly insulted when she said she was not prepared to model for him unless he doubled his offer – and now he has her for life. I’ve explained all the goodies to him and he’s waiting now for delivery.”
What could poor Terri think on hearing this? It was impossible to tell if she was struggling in the suit, for it might as well have been made of steel. Now she knew she would return to the famous Paris couturier whom she had rebuffed so arrogantly. Now she would be his plaything.
To the world, she was dead, but in reality she would be in his shop window inside a perfect replica of herself, or motionless in his bed, incapable of any independent action and with her orifices open and ready to receive him. Oh, the cruel irony of it! But she certainly was beautiful, standing motionless in her polymer feet at a permanent four-inch elevation, arms at her hips and head slightly to one side. Emma spoke.
“I know we all want to see the effects of the hair dryer, so shall we change her position? Let’s lay her back on her bed and see her real talents! I expect our client will be making use of this position, and others of a more graphic nature!”
They laughed as they easily lifted her and lay her on her back on her cot. Emma turned on the dryer and in no time at all Michelle bent one knee and then the other, and then her hips. Her knees were now spread wide in the air and her shins parallel with the ceiling. The girl’s giggled at this obscene posture, made all the more odd by the serene expression on “Terri’s” plastic/vinyl face. The skin cooled as fast as it had warmed, and Terri had no chance to change her position before she hardened again. She lay on her back, legs wide and breasts pointing perkily to the ceiling. With a small key Emma unlocked the pussy plate and withdrew the dildo and catheter tube with a moist slurp. Terri’s shaven pussy, moist and pink pressed gently against the hole.
“Oh poor Terri,” said Mistress Stern, “you are surely going to be plundered. You are now what you always were, but did not know it, a dumb model!” She placed a rubber finger on her love lips and teased her clitoris.
“Yes you are now the perfect doll, a perfect model mannequin - always available, always fuckable, and no trouble at all. When tired of you he will stick you in his window for a couple of days, just to remind you of your station from now on.”
“Your food will be nutritious, by the way – oh no you will not starve, and you will be cleaned regularly. But you will be the perfect living, loving doll – silent, acquiescent, available and for as long as he wants you.’ And Mistress Srern stepped back.
“It is time to meet your master, dear, so we will dress you. Emma will drive you over tonight on the overnight ferry. Cell number 7 will have a new guest tomorrow and Terri has a new life to lead – although not much of a life.”
Emma slid the dildo back into her, her moist lips expanding to accept it, and locked it in place. Heating her hips they closed her demurely to set in the sitting position. Michelle quickly got some clothes and they dressed her. She had little use for rubber now for she was encased in it, and her mouth, anus and pussy were stuffed with it. They sat her on the side of the bed; it was like dressing a child – only easier, no moving, no fidgeting.
They dressed her motionless frame in silk panties over her dildo filled pussy and flimsy bra over her hard breasts and pert nipples. The girls were having fun as they drew black silk stockings up her legs and attached then to a slim garter belt. Next came a black short silk sheath dress to mid thigh, and now she was encased in clinging silk, but she of course could feel nothing except latex. They placed a shoulder length black wig over her head and she would now fool anyone!
“Perfect, look at yourself in the mirror, dear. The perfect, silent, fuckable - ha ha, in all holes - companion – the living doll.”
What did Terri think? Nobody cared; in the mirror a silent impassive pouting face stared back. Mistress Stern placed dark glasses over her eyes.
“We don’t want you telling any tales about where you came from in the highly unlikely event you should ever escape.”
They lifted her into a wheelchair and rolled her out of the house. Then they lifted her into the Range Rover passenger seat. She sat motionless as they strapped on her seatbelt. They had a fake passport already, so Emma would have no trouble getting to Paris.
“Goodbye, ma cherie. Try to enjoy your new life it will be very different for you.” Michelle pecked her plastic cheek as Emma pulled a leather coat over her rubber clothes and got behind the wheel.
“Drive carefully now, Emma dear, I’d hate you to have to explain all this if you get a speeding ticket.” Laughed Mistress Stern, and kissed her assistant on the lips. “Another job well done, we’ll see you tomorrow Emma dear.”
And Emma drove off, taking Terri off to her new life as a living eminently fuckable mannequin.