Lady Laura's free porn video

Lady Laura's *** Laura padded into the room, bringing me supper. I looked up at the wonderful smell and smiled. She still made me wonder how I could have been so lucky as to have her love me. She was drop dead gorgeous. Great figure, full breasts, legs to die for, and a face some starlet's would kill to have. She was the best thing that had ever happened to me. The second best thing had been winning a cool 2 million dollars in the lottery. But that came after marrying Laura, so I knew she hadn't started loving me just for my... our money. "Sam," she smiled back as she swayed sexily towards me, putting on the vamp. "Can't you pack that project away for the night?" My lady leaned down, and put the steak, baked potato, and salad in front of me, and handed me the cutlery. I hemmed, glanced at the workstation screen display of the C# IDE and code. I still hadn't figured out where that memory leak in the app was coming from. "Hon, you promised you'd listen to my plan for opening a third storefront. And it isn't too late for us to have some old fashioned fun in bed, before you have to sleep." She pouted at me, and as if by accident, took a deep breath, making her gorgeous breasts heave in my face. I felt something stir down below, and sighed. "Playing dirty, Kitten. But you know it always works, so sure, I'll shut down, gobble this up, and then," I grinned up at her, "I'll be needing some dessert too." I stretched up a bit and kissed the little bump where her nipple tented her T-Shirt. The bump got a little taller. "So tell me, love. What're the details of this plan of yours?" And then I listened as I ate. With our lottery winnings, I had started my own computer programming consulting business, and she had opened Lady Laura's Fashion Frenzy. A mid-high end lady's fashion mall store. It had done well. Better than mine, to be honest, but my overhead was very low. Her's was the opposite. Still, it had done well enough for her to partner with Brad Tarrant, an acquaintance of mine who'd gotten lucky when the small software company he worked for got bought by Google. I hadn't taken him for a fashionista, or someone really interested in business, but he'd thought that with the economic upturn, more women would be buying clothes, and spending tons of money when they did. Laura was super excited about it, and I couldn't disappoint her or fault the logic. Just look at your average mall, 80% womens retail. So we kicked in half, and he kicked in half, and we became partners. I did the books, and rode herd, which wasn't fun. It's a very fickle business, and the competition is a killer. Mostly though, the issue was Brad liked to spend money on crazy chances. I was forever reining him/them in, and herding them towards reality. He and I really didn't like each other at all. If opposites attracted, we'd have been lovers, but they don't. We were haters. Laura's plan was based on a wonderful deal on a new shopfront in a mall that was just opening. I had to admit it was a golden opportunity. But the risk level was vicious! "Okay, Kitten, it's a great deal, but we are cash tight right now and Brad is on the razor's edge too. I just can't see how we can swing this until after Black Friday." "Sam," she said pleadingly. "It has to be now, or we lose the option on the storefront. Brad says he's arranged a mortgage on that big house of his. He can put up half. So..." "Yes, Kitten, but we'd have to empty our rainy day fund, our savings, and get a small mortgage too. If anything, and I mean 'anything' financially bad happens to us, or Brad, we'd lose not just the new store but the other two as well! We might lose our house, and everything we've gotten used to since the lotto." "Please Sam, I know it is risky, but there's a firm that's saying if we had three..." "Laura, that doesn't equal a commitment, and we need to think about the pros and cons. Pro you get a third store, more exposure, and maybe get an injection of cash from the VC firm. Cons, well, a damn good chance the VC firm ends up owning Lady Laura's, we could lose everything, we couldn't take advantage of any other more feasible opportunities that came along, and we'd be cash poor. So if a supplier stuck us, we'd be truly stuck. It's a cement statue wearing a mink coat, honey." I could see the struggle inside her. She wanted to keep fighting, but she had no more ammo. And she knew our deal. We both had to consent, or we didn't do whatever. I just wasn't willing to risk everything we had on a gamble this big. Finally, with a shrug and a sour look, she admitted defeat. "Alright Sam. You have the facts. But sometimes you're like a terrified girl in a slasher flick. Scared too stiff to move, even when you should." I resented that, but I had just disappointed her, so I understood too. She shook herself, then finally smiled. "Up for some pumpkin pie, lover," she whispered, giving her torso a shiver that knocked everything else out of my mind. I reached out to her, and she took my hands and pulled me up. We started kissing there. We traded clothing for yards gained, and by the time we stumbled naked into the bedroom, my lance was fully erect and we were both panting. Our hands slid over each others' bodies frantically. I sucked her nipples till they were tall and tight, and we fell onto the bed with no other thoughts in our heads but to consummate our lust. She guided my cock into her pussy, and we both shuddered as I slid deep inside her. Then there was nothing but sweet sweat, and synchronized thrusting. I cried out, and Laura screamed virtually at the same time. Our love making was always wonderful. *** Sweat covered and panting after release, Laura turned onto her side to face her lover. "He didn't go for it, Brad, honey," she said, taking in Brad's hard abs and slick, but now wilting penis. He was such a stud, and he could take her to heaven during sex. Brad opened his eyes and looked, half-lidded at her. "He's a fucking douche." "Honey, you know I like you, and Sam isn't in your league in bed, but he is my husband. He isn't wrong, either. The new store is a massive gamble." Laura laid back. "Fuck Sam. The guy would run for shelter if it started raining thousand dollar bills! Yeah, this is a big gamble, but the payoff is astronomical. The exposure, the new sales volume, the cash infusion. We'd cut costs in ordering, and who's the furthest out the limb on this anyway... Me!" Brad slid a hand up to Laura's breast, and began to tweak her nipple gently. "Ohhhh, um. Yeah, honey, I know that. But it doesn't matter, there isn't anything we can do now. If we could get Sam out of the picture for a month or two, just long enough to make this a done deal and show the promise... but I can't think of a way to distract him. He's got no biz trips coming up. Plus, he made up his mind. He won't change it now." A shudder ran through Laura's body as Brad's hand began to stroke her inner thigh. "Two months, lover?" Brad's hands kept stroking, and rubbing, as he thought out loud. "Remember what I told you last year about that company I invested in, the Biotech one?" Laura was panting now, eyes squeezed shut, her body beginning to writhe. "Uhhh, ahh, no, whahht companeeee!" she squealed as he began licking her tits. "The one that was... working on a way to... put people into stasis... for long space... trips, like Mars, and... beyond?" Brad drifted his hand into her pussy, and began to rub her clit. "Ohhhh, don't stop, ahhhh, please don't stop," Laura gasped. Brad stopped talking, and a minute later later Laura's lovely body began to shudder and bounce up and down in climax, her hands clawing at the bed covers. After she regained her breath, she looked at Brad. "What's stasis got to do with anything, hon?" "Thought I told you all about it. I was in line to become assistant director when they shit-canned it. They'd worked out the drugs and process. Secret human trials confirmed it worked. Injections to paralyze the volunteer, then more to depress their metabolism to an extremely low level. Once down to a minimum, you put them in a, well, a bath basically. Called it Stabilizer. Some kind of stuff that seeps through their body, replacing the water in their cells with a substitute. They end up stiff and hard as a board, resistant to damage, and weighing less than a quarter of their original weight. The Stabilizer is much lighter than water." Brad paused for a moment to sip some wine from his glass on the nightstand. "You follow so far?" Laura nodded. Brad lay back and continued. "Stack your personnel on the ship in tight coffin size boxes, no supplies needed, virtually immune to radiation damage, and save billions in terms of lifting their weight into space. You reverse the process at the other end, using a catalyst that binds with the stabilizer, forcing it out and allowing water back into the cells." "So what killed the project, loverboy?" Laura started gently caressing Brad's thigh. "Oh, ummm, ah, found out if the volunteers were left... in stasis for too long, they started going crazy. Turns out their minds still worked. Slowed down a bunch, but... oh, you know I love that, ahhhh. The trip to Mars is between 1 and 2 years. Mental affects began inside of 3 months and, ohhhhh, they ended it a bit after that. Pretty sure they'd have been bonkers when they reconstituted them on Mars. Never... could beat that prob... ahhhhhh!" Brad shifted, and opened his legs. Laura shifted in, and bent over his now rigid cock, and started to lick and fondle it. She came up for air, and said "So, why all the dry history, honey?" before bending over to suck him more. "Geezuz, we get... Sam and put him into stasis... for three months. Fake a trip for him or somethin... ahhhh. Stores open and we're rich when we pull him out. Easssssy, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!" Brad lost the will to talk anymore for a while. Brad thought it was brilliant, and Laura came around, and came again too. Then they worked out a plan. It would take some cash, and cleverness, but it should work. Then they ordered room service. *** "NO!" I yelled in disbelief as the right fielder made an impossible leap up the fence, and snagged the hurtling hardball. The game winning homer turned into the game ending pop fly. Laura leapt from the couch, cheering and dancing. The damn clowns went down again, and their run for the World Series died the final death. I had been so sure they'd win this one. I sighed. "Alright, alright." I grumped, turning to Laura. "You won the bet again, so what's my costume going to be?" Laura smirked, and said. "We are going to the Sanderson's big annual Hallowe'en party as a couple. I will be Gabrielle, from Xena, Warrior Princess." "Sounds okay, so far," I said. "So I'm going to be Hercules, or Jaxor?" We'd both fans of that old show. This wouldn't be so bad, though I'd need a fake muscle suit to do the big guy. I thought. "Oh no, honey, you lost a double or nothing, and you're my date, so you're going as Xena!" Laura crowed. "Oh geeze, no way." I said, shocked. "No. You can't..." "Oh yes, yes, yes, Sam, I can." She interrupted. "And you will. Remember our promise to each other. A Bet is a debt of honor. You have to! Besides, Xena and Gabrielle were an item, not Xena and Herc." She let out a silver laugh. "Fuck!" But she had me cold. The bet and the logic was on her side, and there was no way out other than to seriously damage our relationship. I loved her too much for that. "Fine, okay, you won, your call, I'll do it. But I'm going to be the laughing stock." "No hon, you won't. We'll make you look damn good. I saw those old pictures of you in college, in drag during your acting class review, you looked good!" A butterfly started floating about in my stomach. "Laura, that was eight years ago. I've, um, filled out since then." I said, running a hand over my not quite flat belly. Even though I was still protesting, I was starting to remember, and this idea was getting much more interesting. "And lost muscle too," she agreed, to my disgust. "But since I won, this will be part of it, and I will arrange it. That means ordering stuff to make it work well. That will take a while, so first things first, you are going to exercise a lot more, and diet down. We've both begun to slide on some pounds, and if I'm going to look good as Gabby, I will join you. This will be a mutual effort, Sam. I promise, word of honor, no one will laugh. If they do, you win a triple or nothing. 'Sides, I'm pretty sure they won't even guess who till we tell them!" She smiled. I rolled my eyes, acting put out, but nodded. Hell, this could be fun. *** I looked at the things on the table. They looked like deflated human parts, skin with no innards. "You sure about this, Laura?" "Yes, Sam, I sent them measurements. They cost a lot, but they're top of the line and made to order, and I promised no one would even guess, right?" I gave her a searching look. "Alright, so shave down, then this hair removal stuff?" She nodded. I was of two minds about this. It would take weeks to grow a decent buzz cut again, but the idea was really exciting me. But I shaved myself till I had a cue ball for a head, only cutting myself once. Then I slathered the creme on, waited, and took a shower. The stuff stank to high heaven, and tingled unpleasantly. I was glad to wash it off. All my hair went with it. It felt so odd to be that smooth everywhere as I dried myself. "Okay, loverboy, first the legs. I sat down and started pulling them on. The legs actually included partial foot coverings, and full thighs and hips. The waist ended a couple of inches below my belly button, and it was tight. Before I pulled it up though, I had to fit my dick into a sheath that tucked it in and back, and squeeze my balls up to where they'd first come from. When I finally got them and Mr. Happy all the way in and back, I sucked in my diet and workout-narrowed waist as much as I could, and pulling hard slid the appliance up to just above my waist. The change was amazing. Only my toes weren't covered. My legs looked slimmer, my thighs fuller, my ass was pear shaped, and my waist inches thinner. But it was obviously not real skin. Close, perhaps, but too smooth. "Laura, everyone will know this isn't real!" I said grimly. "Of course they will, love. It is a costume, and we are going to a costume party. That's part of the fun. You'll be Xena, but no one will be able to guess who you are, even though they'll be wracking their brains trying to figure out which girl they might know could be inside the costume! It's going to be a hoot." Laura smiled, and looked appraisingly at me. "Never knew your butt could be so cute, honey." There was something in the way she said it that made me notice. I reached for the top. Full breasts dominated the chest. It was like an incredibly tight long-sleeved sweater with a high neck and built in gloves. It fit like a second skin, and holy crap, but I looked like a woman once it was on. An oddly unblemished, mono-colored, bald, kind of slick one, but a woman. I tugged it down till it met the top edge of the leg piece, and adjusted the fit till it felt sort of comfortable. The weight of the... of my breasts was not nearly as obvious as I had expected. Within a few minutes of walking about, twisting, and bending to work all the wrinkles out of the suit, I had stopped feeling their weight entirely. I noticed Laura looking at me with a look of, almost speculation. I forced myself to stop looking in the mirror, and down at my rack. I could feel Mr. Happy trying to get bigger. To be honest, I'd volunteered for that drag role in my college review. I'd liked dressing in my sister's clothes when I was a kid, till my parents caught me one day when I was 10. It was a dark memory, one I had suppressed long ago. My mother took it in stride, but my dad, shit. I couldn't sit down for a week. And his distrust and disgust shattered me. He was very conservative, and all "no son of mine...!" Well, I never did it again. I pushed the feeling, the desire back, and locked it away, working hard to forget. Now it had burst out of the cell I'd dug for it, and I was as excited as hell. I wanted to dress up now, sexy as I could, big time, and that party seemed like it was going to be a fucking awesome adventure! I was a bit less happy when I had to put on the head piece. Like movie life-masks, it was amazingly real, but also there was something just a little bit off about it. A stiffness that made it a bit unreal. Laura helped snug it down, and adjust the lips, nose, and eyes. They went over mine, but melded, and blended in nicely. Then she carefully matched the neck line to the torso neck end. I looked like, well, one of the display mannequins from Laura's stores come to life. But fuck, she was right, no one would ever guess it was me, and in dim light, I'd easily pass for a real girl. My heart was pounding at that thought, and my penis was trying to get itself up, but couldn't because of the confining sheath. It was uncomfortable. "Wow Sam, or should I say Samantha?" Laura giggled. "You look amazing. Like 99% real, even. I wasn't sure about that "Xena" head mask design, but it looks good after all. She ran a hand over my boobs, and then straightened and shifted the pieces into the closest match possible. She spent more time doing it than necessary, and when done kissed me. I was surprised, and excited by the passion in that kiss. She was definitely turned on, and her hands began to roam over my new body curves. One dropped to my pussy. "Oh my, that looks and feels so real," she said, as her hand explored it. I could feel her fingers through the thin, fake skin, sliding over my stretched out cock. It felt amazing, and I so wanted to explore where she was going, but as I started to caress her too, she pushed away, flustered. "This excites you, Kitten?" I whispered, cupping my boobs in my hands, and fingering my nipples. There was no sensation from them, but it still made me breathe a little faster, and Laura stared at them for a long moment. "Um, hell why not, actually yes. You, Samantha, excite me. I never said so, but I've always been Bi, though I favor guys. And doing it with you, like this, I, I, we don't have the time now, not yet. But we will!" She left the promise of later heavy in the air. "Okay, so next step, we need to treat the suit. Oil it up with this stuff," she said, holding up a tube. "So it will tighten up a bit more, and look more like real skin." She popped the top, and began rubbing it in. "The real part is fine, Kitten, but if this gets much tighter I won't be able to breathe at all!" I half joked. It was harder to suck in air with my waist so compressed. But it didn't take her long. I could feel a faint tingling begin. "You'll get used to it, babe. Maybe it's best now if we let you do that first. You slip into your Xena costume, while I get a snack for us, and put on my costume." She hurried out, while I practiced walking about, feeling my new contours and balance. Then I pulled on the black leather dress, with filigreed bra cups, straps and shoulder covers, studded pleats for the skirt, black leather boots, and armbands. Finally I put on the black wig. I stared into the mirror. I felt so amazing. I was in heaven, and my wife was as accepting as my dad had not been. I was still admiring myself in the mirror, when Laura walked in, tray in hand, in a Gabrielle wig, halter top, and short purple and red mini- skirt. "Wine and cheese, for the warrior princess...". She stopped, mouth open staring at me. "Shit Sam, you really look like Xena!" "So long as I don't talk," I said, grinning as I turned to her. I just hadn't yet got the voice to sound good enough to fool anyone, really. I would have to be silent as much as possible, whisper a lot, and work hard on making it better in the week we had left. "Wow, you're amazing. I...," she trailed off. I wondered at the almost wistful tone in her voice, but then she was setting out the snacks, and I did my best sexy walk to the table. I was beginning to look forward to later... a lot! Laura, grinned, and did a wolf whistle, as she handed me my wine glass. "A toast, Xena, to our undying love. May we grow old together, in love forever, no matter what may happen." I clinked glass with hers, and we both sipped wine. Then I noticed her face, and reached out to wipe a tear off her face. "Hey Kitten, what's wrong," I whispered. "Oh," she looked down, "Just wish we'd done this before, honey. It's fun, and I can see you're getting into this too. That money, those winnings, they made us, I don't know, dry, flat, almost sour. We had everything we wanted, and yet we stopped having spontaneous fun. We became so focused on getting more, and not losing what we had." My heart thumped. "Kitten, we can do this weekly if you want. The two of us, girl's nights out, whatever you want, love. Hey, Laura. We never made time to learn to ride horses, even though we talked about it a lot. We could be cowgirls together. That'd be hell'a fun. I am really enjoying this." I smiled, which felt weird in the mask. "Sam.. antha, it's a date, as soon as we can. Dead serious. Promise me, okay, honey?" She gave me a wan smile. "Hey, hey, Gabriella is my cute but tough girlfriend, my bff, right! I promise, cross my heart." And I did, bumping my arm into my boob in the process, which made me feel, nice? "Maybe we lost something, a spark, for a while Kitten, but we've found it again now. And we are still young. To us, and our lives renewed!" I clinked her glass, and we both drank again. "I'm okay, Sam, really. And you're right, we've a lifetime ahead of us. So lets snack, so we can get back to work." She handed me the cheese plate, and we chomped cheese, crackers, and olives while drinking our wine. Ten minutes later we began again. I was feeling a bit light-headed. We'd skipped breakfast, so the large glass of wine on an otherwise empty stomach was hitting me fast. But I'd been far drunker than this, so I stripped down again, wig and all, and stood still while Laura / Gabrielle, using latex gloves as the tube stated, and rubbed the grease thoroughly over every inch of the suit. Finally it was done. "I'm really looking forward to the party now, but can I take this thing off, Kitten? Feeling a bit odd. Sorry, should have had less wine this early in the day I guess." My head was feeling very floaty. She looked at the clock for the time. "Sure, Sam. The creme should have mostly set by now. Just one last thing. We need a picture or three. Can you strike a pose for me please. I so want to remember this!" Feeling very detached, I let her guide me into a pose that she liked, then held it while she went for her phone. It seemed to take her a while, but I was able to stay very still in spite of my head. When she did come back, she had trouble with it for a couple of minutes. I just stood in my pose, silently. My thoughts kept wandering off, and I couldn't really think. My brain was stuffed with cotton, or wine. At least I had no tendency to shake or sway. I held the pose beautifully. "Okay, Sam, hold it for just a few seconds longer." Laura glanced back at the wall clock, raised her phone, and it flashed. My vision went white for a second, but somehow I didn't flinch or blink. "A couple more, love," she asked. I stood stock still while she moved around me, taking photos from various angles. My mind felt quite distant now, and I could barely feel my body. It had gone numb. I was wondering what I should do, when Laura came in front of me, and waved her hand in front of my eyes. I couldn't track it. I couldn't move my eyes at all. I couldn't move anything at all. I was frozen. I wondered what I should do. What could I do? Laura leaned in, kissed me on my lips tenderly, and whispered "Sorry, Sam, I'm so sorry, but you'll be okay, I promise. And we'll be better than ever because of this, soon. This coming spring we'll go away, just the two of us, we can be just two cute girls on a road trip, and fall even deeper in love. Sound good Sam?" Then she backed away, turned, and walked out of my line of vision. I thought she made a very cute Gabrielle. I should be scared, but Laura had said it would be okay, so I wasn't. But why wait till springtime. Oh well, it would be a wonderful spring, that's for sure, I thought. I don't know how long I stood there completely still, before she returned. I don't know because I didn't really think about anything. Not even to wonder what she had done to me. My mind seemed to be nearly as frozen as my body. When she did come back in, it surprised me that she brought Brad with her. Had she gone to him for help? *** He was carrying a large bag. I watched passively while he opened it, and put several take out food containers on the table, and a bottle of champagne. He'd brought a meal? How, odd. Then he left again, and reappeared later, this time with a big, metal suitcase. "Okay, Laura, this should only take a couple of minutes to set up." He opened the case. I couldn't move my head to watch, but I watched him and myself in the big mirror. He pulled out a small, boxy machine and attached an upside down bottle with blue fluid in it to the top of the machine. Then he took tubing, attached a needle to one end, and hooked the other to the machine, which he plugged in. Brad knelt down in front of me, and carefully inserted the needle into a vein near the top of my left big toe. He turned the machine on. It began to hum, and I saw blue fluid slowly inch down the tube and begin to enter my system. It made my foot feel cold after a while, then I lost all feeling there. It wasn't numb, it was like I didn't have a foot. The wave of cold slowly climbed through my body, and the total loss of sensation began to spread. It disturbed me at some level, and I worked out that something should be done. They were doing something bad to me. I knew that now. I was getting scared. But I couldn't think of anything I could do, and my brain was still so fuzzy. I stopped thinking about it, and paid attention to Brad and Laura. "... stuff you doctored his wine with is mostly a powerful, synthesized version of the brain chemical that paralyzes our bodies when we have powerful dreams, so we don't hurt ourselves thrashing about. Plus some drugs to stiffen his muscles in place, and finally some scopolamine to make him extremely suggestible and passive." Brad said between bites of take out Chinese. "The first dose of the transition agent infusing him now will take about 90 minutes to suffuse through his entire body. It will stiffen him for days, lower his metabolism to not far above nil, and even begin to change his texture. He'll..." Brad had gotten up, and walked up to me while talking. Now he stopped and looked at me closely, almost for the first time. "Damn, this is amazing. He thumbed one of my nipples, and squatted down to examine my pussy. Looks almost completely like a real woman, but we can't have that, can we?" "I called her Samantha," Laura said quietly. "Probably best not to talk about Sam anymore, till we are done, Brad, and it's time to bring him back. Till then she's Samantha, and just another mannequin in my store. I'll take care of her, of dressing her myself." "Then lets complete the mannequin costume, right," Brad said. From the case he pulled out three patches, made of the same material as my suit. Using gloves, he oiled them up, then used a long oval one to cover the realistic mound between my legs, smoothing it down, blending it into my slick suit, so I was smooth and seamless from front to back. Then he pasted over top of my nipples, so my breasts became smooth and unbroken hemispheres. I didn't look totally real anymore. He leered at me. "Cutie, in case you're wondering, the oil on the suit you're wearing is there to change its chemical properties so that it will look more like, and react more like human skin to the process you will soon undergo. Something we developed to help trauma victims in need of quick stasis when serious medical attention is a hundred million miles away. That one may hit the market in a few more years." Brad turned and smiled at my lady. "Laura, you're a very smart cookie. That plan was sheer genius. How do you hide a body for three months? In plain, fucking sight! Amazing!" He walked over and examined me closely, touching and feeling parts. "Still feels soft, but more like soft leather now. Once the infusion is complete he'll... she'll be rigid for a week or two. Without it, she'd come out of the paralysis in a few hours. That wouldn't be enough time to get her to the lab we reopened. Nothing more to do now but wait for a couple of hours." He turned back to Laura and asked, "Want to wait here, or go do something fun?" She looked at him, then her gaze slid to me. "Stay here, please, I don't want to leave... her alone," she said softly. Brad looked back at me, then walked over and turned me around 180 degrees, careful to not dent my skin, or kink and tug on the tube that was pumping blue stuff into me. I stared at the back wall of the room, unblinking, listening to them chat quietly while sipping their wine, and finishing their meal. Over the next hours I heard their plan, or enough parts to put two and two together and get four. I tried to find holes in it, but there were no glaring ones. I was going to be frozen like this for months while they opened that damn third store. I would be "out of the country on an extended buying trip." They'd arranged plane tickets, and hotel reservations. They were paying a 'C' grade actor with a passing resemblance to me to take a very long vacation. Would anyone wonder about me much? Not my clients, since I was between contracts right now. I had one lined up, but they'd think nothing of it when Laura canceled it for me. My thoughts were slow, my head numb, but I worked it out. They'd bring me back after the store was a big success. They were so sure the store would work, but what if I was right? Without success, would they really want to bring me back then? Laura would, but Brad hated me, and I didn't know what kind of pressure Laura could bring on him. I might try to turn them in when freed... if anyone would even believe me? It was a chilling thought, but around then the cold feeling reached my head, the numb turned into nothing, and all thought went away. *** Awareness came back to me slowly. I was in a big gray room, with a very high ceiling. I was looking slightly down at tables that lined the walls, with all kinds of bottles, apparatus, and machines on them. It was spotless, but there was an air about it that suggested it had not had anything happen in it for a long time. My thinking was clear again. In a full size mirror that was leaning up against the wall, 20' to my front, I could see me. I hung a several feet up from the floor, dangling from a large, circular framework of beams in a wheel shape, all connected by chains to a rail along the ceiling above. From the wheel hung a dozen or more taut wires at various angles. They were attached to fat cuffs that were lined with thick foam. The cuffs were strapped to my limbs and joints. I dangled in mid-air like a girl puppet, posed the same as I had been when Laura had taken my pictures. I was looking slightly to the left. My right arm, bent slightly back and down at the elbow, was out a touch from my hip, my fingers spread a little. My left arm was bent forward, with my hand's fingers naturally curled slightly in, in a not quite closed, loose fist. My right leg was a bit in front of the left, and swung in slightly, as though I was taking a step. Behind me was a huge, clear glass vat, full of a thick, pink liquid. Two wires, attached to the bottom of my ankle cuffs coiled down to the floor, attached to a pair of heavy looking weights. A clear plastic tube also hung down from above, and disappeared into my mouth. I stared at this in horror. Were they going to bronze me, cover me in paint, liquefy my insides and pump me out, or dissolve me!? My thoughts ran round and round, but there was no more information to be had. Minutes, hours, days later, I don't know how long, Brad came in. He looked at me critically, flicked a power switch on a machine, and toggled a joystick. I heard a hum, and I rose smoothly into the air a couple of more feet, the short wires to my ankles pulling tight and lifting the weights. Then he lowered me down, almost to the floor, before he turned it off. "Already to go, Samantha. But not yet. First you need to see something." He grinned viciously. "You need to see me deal with your lying, backstabbing wife!" He shouted, spittle flying. He started pacing, and quieted. "You'll be interested to know that that bitch used me to do this to you. I think she's serious about letting you out eventually, at least right now, but I wouldn't trust her to say "ouch" if she stubbed her toe." He looked up at me again. "You see, the new store opens next week. But I was reading a copy of the contract, and you know what? There's a clause in there that says if something happens to either partner, the other gets everything. Cute huh? That's when I suddenly realized she used me to get you out of the picture, but made me think it was my idea. Now she just has to take me out, and everything is hers. But when I thought about it hard enough, I remembered that she prompted me to think about doing this to you. I knew then she'd set me up, the bitch!" Brad picked up a beaker, and began to paint the inside with a clear liquid. When done he carefully placed it next to a slightly smaller one, and turned to me again. He kicked a table leg hard, and looked up again. "You know she'd been cheating on you, with me, for five months before you lost that 'bet' with her? Think about it chump. How many bets did she make, before she finally won two in a row?" Brad began laughing. I considered that. It had been at least several. Still, was she really as bad as Brad thought? I wanted to shake my head, to shout at him. But I was immobile; a stiff Barbie doll marionette, incapable of even quivering the tiniest amount. Silently I cursed him. That partnership survival clause is not that uncommon. And maybe she had cheated, but maybe she had reason. We had drifted apart since winning that damn money. We had lost our fire, and that was even more my fault than hers, when it came right down to it. But I still trusted her. She would get me back some day, and then I would deal with Brad. He was trying to set me up to hate Laura when I got restored. It wouldn't work. I remembered the regret in Laura's face and voice when she'd drugged me. I didn't recognize it then, but I trusted it now. She loved me. The paranoid fool was wrong, and he would pay for what he had done. When my mind came back to the present, Brad was gone. I hung there, silent, stiff, motionless. My attention wandered again. I was fantasizing about going out to a club with Laura, me in my Xena body, but my own face and my own long hair. Having guys looking at us, wanting us, but feeling up ourselves, with no need for anyone else in our love. Though maybe," I thought, "inviting some hot guy to come home with us for a threesome might be a very interesting experience." I was imagining sharing our boytoy when Brad and Laura walked in. He had a bottle of champagne in one hand. I focused on it. What had I been thinking about just a moment ago? Oddly I couldn't quite remember. "There she is, Laura, one step away from full stasis. She'll be ready a week before the store opens, so we can move her there then. You going to put her in the main window?" Brad smiled at her, and familiarly dropped his free hand to hold her ass. "Her appearance as your new window mannequin will herald the beginning of our ultimate success, so shall we toast the future as we begin it here?" Laura looked up at me, and shifted away from Brad a hair, so his hand fell off her butt and back to his side. I could see the doubt and regret in her eyes, but also the steel. She was determined to do this, still. She turned to Brad. "Yes, partner, that sounds like the perfect thing to do." He quickly pulled a small table, and a couple of office swivel chairs over. Seating her facing me, he snagged the two seemingly clean beakers from the bench. He popped the bottle with the typical 'bang' and foaming, and they laughed as he filled the beakers and handed the doctored one to her. They clinked, and he toasted "To a very long, very successful partnership, Lady Laura," and they drank their champagne. Laura shakily drank half of hers straight, staring at me with eyes full of hurt. I wanted to scream for her to run, to beware, but I could only stare fixedly at the wall behind them. Putting his own empty beaker down, Brad got up from his chair and took the remote harness controller again. Laura finished her drink, and poured another while he fiddled with the switches. "Dang thing isn't working right, sweet thing, hang on a second." Laura looked up into my eyes. I saw a tear trickle down her cheek, then she looked down, at my feet, and tossed back the rest of her bubbly with a grimace. She was hating this, but she obviously wouldn't quit now. It was probably too late anyway. I wanted to cry too. Brad made me drop a foot, then rise three or four, then stalled it again. Laura drank half a third beaker full. Resting one arm on the chair arm, she pulled one leg slightly under the chair, and pushed the other out in front a little. She took a last look at me, and then bent forward a bit at the waist, to stare at the far edge of the table, and not up at me. She held the quarter full beaker loosely in her right hand, resting the blade of her hand on the table. Brad spent another two minutes fiddling, then 'got it working'. "She'll be there in just a jiffy now, lover." he said. At the slowest possible speed, he had me rise into the air till I was nearly 15' up, then moved me carefully, incrementally, over the vat. Then I slowly sank towards the liquid. The weights disappeared into it, and my feet were inches above it when he stopped me, and put the controller down. He looked at me, and smiled. "I wanted you to see this, you tightwad bastard." He turned and walked to Laura. She didn't move. "She just drank the same witches' brew that paralyzed you when you drank it. But she drank a lot more, and it was a much higher dose. I knew I couldn't stall her for as long as she was able to stall you." He said, grinning up at me. Brad moved behind her, and pulled the chair back on it's wheels. Laura came with it, but she was locked into her posture. Brad carefully pulled the beaker from her loose grasp and put it on the table. He knelt down and looked up into her frozen, downward gazing eyes. "Hey there bitch. By now you know what's happening to you. It got you quick because you drank so much more than Samantha did," he gestured behind himself at me, "and the wine makes it hit even faster. You're mine now, cunt. You always will be from now on too. You'll never backstab anyone again, especially not me." He reached forward and rubbed a single tear off her cheek. "How cute." He said. "Crying for your forever lost husband are we? One last tear to say farewell with. Very touching. I'd almost think you were capable of human emotion." He straightened, and rolled her and the chair across the room to a table where a familiar little machine lay, already set up with an inverted blue bottle on it. He pulled off one of her 3" heels. Her foot remained rigidly arched. He stuck the needle into a vein on top of her foot. A minute later the tube was blue, and the level in the bottle began to fall ever so slowly. While it did, he cut off her clothes, covered her in shaving foam, and producing a pack of lady razors began to remove all her hair. As her long auburn locks fell softly to the floor, I cried inside, bitterly cursing God for allowing this to happen to her too. Once she was completely nude and hairless, he pulled out a couple of small patches of smooth, shiny pseudo-skin, like my suit had been. Like with me he oiled them up, and stuck them on her, making her crotch smooth and seamless, and covering her nipples so her breasts were smooth and unbroken. Then he pulled a Xena mask, identical to mine, over her head, adjusted it, blended it in, and oiled it too. He looked at me then. "She'll be just like you, though seated of course. Matching mannequins. No one can ever recognize either of you now. I've set it up so she's joined you on your long buying trip. Somewhere along the way, in a while I'll arrange for an 'accident'. A carjacking, ransoms demanded, then no word again, and you will both just disappear. No one will be able to link that to my new pair of identical window mannequins, or guess you were ever anything else. Welcome to eternity, Samantha. Laura will be joining you shortly after she dries out. I'll really going to enjoy dipping her in the stabilizer." Then, laughing madly, he used the controller to lower me into the vat underneath me. The last thing I saw as the thick, opaque liquid closed over my eyes was Brad, beginning to attach Laura to the same kind of harness I was trapped in. *** Laura was curing now, hanging from her own puppeteer's rig, still in her seated position, hanging over the vat she'd been pulled out of the last time Brad had come by. She still leaned slightly forward from the waist, head looking slightly down. Her left leg was bent slightly back at the knee, while her right was extended a little. Her feet were more arched than mine, as she'd been wearing full heels when Brad had paralyzed her. One arm reached forward, hand still cupped to hold the missing beaker of champagne, while the other was bent at the elbow, forearm forward as it had been resting on the chair arm, hand loosely held downward, fingers naturally curved. A good pose for a mannequin. Even with the almost-human Xena face, she was still heart-stoppingly beautiful to me. I so wanted to tell her that I still loved her, and always would. I knew she was aware inside that frozen, perfect, plastic appearing body, but she was trapped as I was. Limited sight line, able to hear, but never to speak or move. When I thought of Laura I still ached with my love for her, and prayed to God for Him to take me and let her recover, somehow. But God had abandoned us, if He ever existed. Laura and I had been alone now for what seemed like several days, but I had no way to know. Time had begun to blur for me. I couldn't tell how much time had passed, or even if I was aware all the time. I wondered if this was it? Would I go mad, or just go blank at some point. Would we spend the rest of time hanging in this room? I vaguely wondered why the stasis procedure been abandoned? Then my train of thought slid off at an angle, and I lost track again. Finally the door opened and Brad walked in. He fired up the hanging rack controls, moved me away from the tank, and pressed a button. The ankle wires dropped free from me, and I swayed gently back and forth as he used the joystick to shift me till I was nearly above him, and I lost sight of him. Then I was slowly lowered down till I was eye to eye with him. He put the controller down. "Hi, Samantha, miss me?" He grinned. He picked up and aimed an instrument at me. It beeped, and a green light lit up. He carefully waved it over and around me, spending extra time around my torso and hips. The green light was solid, and it made no other sounds. "Excellent. Cutie pie, you are cured. Less than .05 percent moisture left in you. You're ready for the next stage. This is going to be so much fun! " He pulled the tube out of my mouth, leaving only the tiny oval where it had gone through my lips. He reached up and cupped my left breast in his hand. I couldn't see very far downward with my fixed, field of view, but I could see his fingers whiten as he applied pressure. The featureless pink mound didn't deform, and I felt nothing. I could only tell because I saw it. I still had no physical feeling or awareness of my body. He slipped his hands down my sides, pushing, and then one hand dipped out of my sight, into my crotch I guessed. I felt nothing at all. "Yep, you're slick, hard, and basically indistinguishable by touch from plastic. Perfect. Time to get you ready for your big gig as one of the premier models for my newest store. My staff are starting to set up the stock as we speak." He said happily. "In a week we open, and you two will be wearing some of that stock, and are going to be my star attractions." He laughed. I quailed inside. Then, whistling, he busied himself unhooking me from my rig. When he lifted me so that my last harness cuff slipped off its hook, he held me up with only one arm, as if I weighed very little. Balancing me on my feet, with one hand, he stripped the rest of the foam padded supports off me. He carried me over to a scale, and put me on. The waist high readout flashed for a moment, then steadied on 34 pounds. My mind went blank. I'd lost 129 lbs of weight?! Dear God. I knew this could be reversed, but I was still stunned. Panic rose in me. Laura had planned to restore me after she got her way, but now Brad had done unto her what they had done to me, and from what he'd said already, I knew he had no such plans. After studying me for a moment, he carried me out of the clean room, and into another well lit area with many benches and cabinets. Propping me up against a work table for a moment he pulled a small wheeled cart over beside me. It was a table saw work station. As he locked the wheels, in my mind I started yelling frantically. On it lay a box of smallish rods and circular steel parts of various diameters, a couple of power drills, two mannequin hands and a pair of arched mannequin feet, which ended above the wrists and ankles respectively. Brad, unaware of my fruitless, desperate struggle to move, beg, or scream lifted me and lay me face up on the table. When he was on my left, I could see his torso and above. But other than my breast mounds I could see only my left arm. I could hear though, even though my eyes fixedly stared to the side. Cord rustled, a switch flicked, and the sounds of the table saw ran up to a shrill scream, matching my internal one, then died away as he let the foot pedal go. "Okay, Samantha, here's the deal. Your transformation is mostly done, but you aren't perfect yet. As good as you look, and I must say, Laura did a magnificent job on you, you still have kinda big hands and feet, and they are not, lets say, poised properly. Okay for a real woman, but not for a display model. That just won't do for one of my premier window girls. So we are about to fix that." Then the sounds began. The saw howled intermittently, the drills ran, steel parts clinked. Internally I screamed and screamed. If this ever ended, if I was ever restored, I would be a cripple now. But I couldn't feel anything, and eventually I just fatalistically listened. For a while I even blanked out again. When I finally became aware Brad was talking. With my mind quiet I could hear him... "... like I practiced too. I've mounted your new joints, and attached some of your new parts. Once I do the rest of you, all I need to do is sand you down to make exact matches where your joints are. Then a final paint job and you'll look great. Nearly seamless, realistic, but still obviously artificial." He smiled down at me. He held up something. It was my right hand, from the above my wrist and down! Oh my fucking God! "From this," he said, wiggling my smooth, plastic-like, sliced-off hand at me, "to this," he grinned, holding up a mannequin's arm, with a shiny steel shoulder socket affixed with bright new screws, and a hand attached to its wrist at a slightly rough joint seam." Then I realized it was my left arm. He'd sawed my fucking arm off at the shoulder and my hand above the wrist, put metal joints into my shoulder and arm, and attached a plastic hand to the wrist! "You are going to work out beautifully, Samantha. You're definitely going to be a beautifully poised plastic girl!" He laughed at the pathetic pun. "I think you are going to sell a lot of expensive clothes for me." Can you faint when totally paralyzed? Yes! As I spiraled down towards oblivion, his words followed me. "You and Laura are going to work forever to make me very ri..." Inside I shut down for a while. Eventually I came out of it, much as I wished I had not. It wasn't over. So I heard, and saw... things. I endured, I didn't process. I tried to be unthinking plastic, but ironically I couldn't make that happen. Brad continued to taunt me over and over with what he was doing to me, but I was inured to it now. I was already gone. I knew that. There was no coming back for me now. I don't know how long it took. He took breaks, and I had no way of knowing how long they were. In the end he disjointed me at both shoulders, and replaced my hands and feet. He sliced me in half, just below the tops of my hips, so my torso could be slightly twisted to either side. He sanded me down, polished me, and air brushed me. I'd never suspected he had talents of that level. I'd bought several mannequins for Laura's shops. I looked very high end. He'd done a professional job. Finally he packed the tools and airbrush compressor away. He lifted me again, but this time he held me stiffly out with both arms while he positioned me over something, then set me slowly down. There was a metallic snick sound. I felt nothing. He let go of me and stood back. I remained standing. He carried the tall wardrobe mirror over, and stood it in front of me. I couldn't do anything but look at it of course. I saw my full reflection finally. I truly was a mannequin. Smooth, shiny, and bald, with the frozen-pretty Xena face. Perfectly formed, medium sized upthrust breast mounds graced my chest. Delicate size 6 arched plastic feet, small hands with thin wrists and delicate fingers, poised just so. My tiny, toeless feet hovered a half inch above the floor as I was held up by a clear acrylic pole sunk into a socket in my featureless crotch. He'd bored a hole, and mounted a socket in my crotch! My head was still looking slightly to the left. My right arm, bent slightly back and down at the elbow, was out just a touch from my narrow waist, with my new fingers spread a little, but partially closed, as if I was holding an invisible purse. My left arm was bent forward, with that hand's fingers curled slightly in, index finger extended as if about to point at something soon. Oh God Help Me was all I could think, over and over as I stared, frozen forever in this pose, at my reflection. Before I had 'known' what he was doing to me. Now I understood in my soul the totality of the disaster that had befallen me. Brad stared at me for a moment, then started laughing. The laugh grew in volume and depth until he was bending over, nearly gasping for breath, and a few actual tears bounced down his cheeks. Finally he recovered, and began to talk. "Dear, dear Samantha. This will likely be our last chat. You are one very special mannequin now. For one thing, you were ridiculously expensive to make. I mean that girl suit alone cost more than the priciest window mannequin you can buy. Then there's the drugs and chemicals. Even stolen, they were very expensive. Breaking into this mothballed facility took many bribes, and new supplies cost a ton. Not to mention incidentals, and all my time, including practicing and finishing you. And I still need to do Laura, though she'll be much easier, as her hands and feet don't need replacing, just jointing. She's dry as a bone now, and ready for me to complete. Another day, or two. I've gotten faster at this, with your help." He laughed again. He paused, savoring the moment. "You two cost over a hundred times more than a pair of manufactured mannequins, but that money, yours originally and now mine, was utterly worth it! Every time I walk into MY store and see you two again, or even just think about the two of you standing, stiff, mute, and pretty in my fashions, I'll feel so damn good about it. You BELONG to me now. You're property. Even getting rich, if taking the Lady Laura's chain national works out as I know it will, is secondary. Laura used me, and you were everything I despised. You've both got exactly what you deserve for trying to push me back down into the mud." He took a deep breath. "Yes Samantha, there is no coming back for you. The clinical studies at Cosmo Pharmaceuticals showed that recipients of the stasis treatment remained aware throughout the process, and afterward. So hello, I know you're in there, hearing this. Eventually the volunteers started going mad. That is what you have to look forward to, and I will smile, months or years from now, knowing you are still screaming, totally mad inside an inescapable prison. Doing 'eternity' for your crimes against me." He began laughing again, nearly choking towards the end. I was eternally doomed, as surely as Brad was mad. But being insane doesn't make you stupid. He'd been smart, and neither Laura, nor I had suspected anything. He was right. He'd won, and it would only get worse, unless some day he relented, and that seemed impossible now. My soul screamed in rage, fear, and desperation. My mind again faded to blank eventually. *** "Did you hear?" Cindy asked Janice, as she detached my arms, and pulled the sleeveless blouse off my nude torso. "About Mr. Tarrant?" Janice replied, unzipping my pleated skirt, and pulling it down, over my boots, exposing me completely to the black night outside the display window. Oddly it didn't bother me, though a fading memory said it had once. Instead, I found myself admiring my clean, perfect curves in the window reflection. "Yeah, he didn't make it." Janice said, placing my wig off to the side. They lifted me off my pole, and lay me down. "Died in the operating room, early this morning." My torso was on straight, so I stared slightly to the left, of course, and could still see the window reflection. Brad, dead? Cindy pulled my boots off, and put them on the cart, beside the rest of my old outfit. "Fucking rich twit, driving half drunk at that speed in the city." Janice held me up by the feet, while Cindy slipped a black satin teddy up my legs. Then she held my head up as Cindy snugged it over my breasts. Then black silk stockings, with built in garters went up my legs, to snuggle my thighs. They stood me up. "What I heard," Janice said as she steadied me and Cindy hooked the lacy straps over my shoulders, "is that his girlfriend was blowing him when he lost it and hit an electrical pole doing 70." Cindy giggled. "So the last thing to go through her mind before she died," she said, fitting open-toed bedroom heels with black pompoms onto my feet, as Janice held me inches off the floor, "was Tarrant's dick." Janice burst out laughing, while Cindy giggled. They hoisted me up, and slid me down onto my pole. There was a clack as I locked into place. I considered the news. Brad was dead. So was the only other person who might have been told, unlikely as that was, about me and Laura. Cindy pasted a couple of fake nipple bumps on my breasts, then straightened my teddy, artfully arranging it to uncover as much boob as possible without quite showing everything. Janice put a long brown wig on me, and combed it till it fell like a silk waterfall over my shoulders. Janice speculated "Well, it probably won't affect us. The board of directors takes over the chain, I guess, since dick-man didn't have any heirs." She locked my arms back onto my shoulders. Brad was dead, so no one could ever discover the truth about me now. I would be this until I was damaged and thrown away. Would I still be aware when I was buried in a landfill? I should have been terrified by that thought. Instead I was concerned I wouldn't be dressed and displayed after that. A corporation owned me. I was nothing more than a fixture in a fashion store. Cindy posed a single, plastic rose in my right hand, and replied "Unless the lady who started this chain comes back. I heard she ran off to the tropics somewhere. She might have a claim." Janice fastened a black velvet choker around my neck, and stood back to admire me. "I'd heard she and her lover got kidnapped and killed down there. Wasn't she married to Tarrant before she ran off?" She placed a prop chocolates box on a tiny table beside me, alongside a vase with more fake roses in it. Brad was dead, and I didn't feel anything. My reflection meant more to me. I was stunning. I really liked the way the choker looked on me. And the silk stockings made my legs look so gorgeous. With my nipple bumps poking at the black silk of the teddy, I'm so very sexy in this outfit. I am happy. Cindy trundled the cart over to Laura. "Nah, I don't think so. She was with Tarrant when they started the chain, but they never married. Anyway she was a dumb bitch to take off like that. I mean she'd be worth, what, a cool twenty million today? But honey brings flies, so if she didn't get killed down there maybe she will step back into the limelight now everything's up for grabs." Janice walked over to help, and began by taking the seated mannequin's arms off, while Cindy flipped up Laura's dress, and popped the left leg off its joint at the thigh. "Yeah, she'd be twice the fool not to come forward now." Cindy pulled Laura's wig off, and they began undressing the founder of the Lady Laura's national chain, before putting a Valentine's Day outfit on her too. "Hey, Jan, it's going to be a long night, and it's coming on our lunch hour. you want to grab some drinks at the Golden Chalice when we finish up this one?" Janice tugged Laura's sweater over my twin's head, leaving the perky plastic breasts bare to the world. Cindy pulled off the calf boots, unzipped the denim miniskirt and worked it off the mannequin, exposing a featureless mound in the crotch. Laura had no pole, and I felt sorry for her now and then. I liked my pole. I sometimes fantasized it was a man making love to me, pushing his cock deep into me. "Sounds good, Cindy. Wanna borrow a couple of outfits." Janice inclined her head at Laura's and my clothes now on the cart. "We can troll for some guys to buy us drinks maybe, and change back once we come back to do the Lingerie dummies." "I love that idea, girlfriend," said Cindy, smiling. Ignoring the naked, armless, one legged mannequin, seated on the display box, she modeled the miniskirt against her own hips. "Dibs on this outfit!" *** I'm in a very pretty outfit. I'm wearing a bright blue, low cut spring blouse, and matching miniskirt. My perfectly arched plastic feet are cute in open toed blue suede calf boots with 3" heels. One of my small, elegant hands loosely holds a blue and white clutch purse, while the other floats above my right hip. My waist is twisted slightly to the right. I stand hip shot, with long blonde tresses tumbling down over my shoulders and partway down my chest, framing my breasts and face. My artfully painted face has a happy smile on it, as always, and my fixed gaze looks into infinity. But I can see myself reflected in the floor to ceiling window. I am very sexy, standing under the lights. There is another mannequin to my left, seated on a large white display box, dressed in soft lavender colors, She is my double in face and figure, and I feel there was something special about her, but I can't place what it was. A fading feeling of familiarity, but my mind slowly drifts to the scene outside the window and I put the feeling aside. There is a sign in the window. I peer at the words, "national flagship store, tenth anniversary sale". I puzzle at them. I mostly don't understand them, though there is an echo of a memory, so once I might have known. I work in the "store", and do know "sale" means more customers will see me, and want to look like me. I preen in my mind, happy at that thought. Then I wonder about the patches of dirty snow along the street and sidewalk, still melting in the weakening rays of the late afternoon sun. Spring is nearly here. I am not sure why but I feel an real fondness for springtime, but why? All seasons are the same in the window, on my stand. Only my clothes change, and they are always pretty, so what does it matter? I think back to the last time I remember. It must have been in fall, as I had particularly liked the long, tight sweater that snugly wrapped itself around my thighs, just below my perfect hips and ass. It had concealed the top of the shiny black tights that covered my legs, until they disappeared into my knee high black boots. I must have missed most of winter. It didn't worry me, though I felt a bit sad that it didn't. As if I had lost something, but no longer knew what it had been. It couldn't have been important. Summer was, though. I hoped I wouldn't miss too much of summer. I loved being dressed in swimsuits or slinky summer evening dresses. Next to Valentine's day displays, that was when I looked my best. Outside a cute 20 something with pixie-cut powder blue hair stopped to admire my outfit. I could see her trying to imagine it on herself. She'd be beautiful in it. Her body was perfect for it, just as mine was, and her hair matched. I began to get a glow of excitement and felt happy. She'd made up her mind and was coming in! It felt so good to attract a woman in to buy my clothes. I'd been made for this, and I was so good at it. It's wonderful to know that and I reveled in the feeling as the woman entered, kicking some slush from her boots. Then she passed out of sight behind me, and I forgot. A cute young woman, with powder blue hair passed by me, and left the store with a big bag. She'd look gorgeous in my outfit. I wondered if that had occurred to her? Then she was out of sight. I wondered what I had been thinking of? Something, maybe about the sun beginning to set? The street began to vanish as the reflection became slowly mirror like, and blocked my vision out. That didn't bother me. Incuriously I eyed the reflection of the store behind me, and the mannequin to my side. I liked the micro length shiny gold dress she wore. She looked like me. I hoped I would get dressed in her outfit sometime. She sat on a white box. Could I be bent, so I could sit sometimes? I liked my pole. It reminded me of something that made me tingle. My wig was blonde, with long tresses. I was pretty. A girl walks by outside, looking at me. I'm prettier than her. I live in the moment. I will always be beautiful, and always be stylish in the latest fashions. That has always been, it is all I know. All I can imagine wanting. The End