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The Mannequin Madame
by DX

Copyrighted, all rights reserved.

"A watched phone never rings."

Debbie looked up as Patty took a seat on her desk. "I'm worried, okay, its been two weeks."

"She's taken off without telling anyone before, remember last year?"

"She told me." Debbie said, playing with the phone cord.

"And she forgot this time. We're talking about Crissy here."

"The same Crissy who tried to kill herself."

Patty took Debbie's hand, caressing it. "That was years ago. She's much better now."

Debbie looked around nervously, checking to see if anyone was watching her cubicle. Patty took the subtle hint and let go. "Come on, time to work." Patty said brightly. "What are you doing today?"

"I have an interview with Madame Wythe."

Patty took up her camera. "Great! We'll get you to model some of her fashions." Patty took a few shots. "Then we can show the world that you're as beautiful as any of those super models."

"Like Crissy?"

Patty put her camera away. "Just like Crissy except you'll be sure to tell the people who love you when you take off for a few weeks." Patty glanced over her shoulder to be sure the coast was clear, then she leaned over and kissed Debbie lightly on the lips. "I gotta go. Dan "Anchorman" Huges is doing a public interest piece this week and has asked for me to be his camera operator. I'll be late coming home. Pick up milk, okay?"

Debbie smiled a little, pulling Patty closer, "Okay." They kissed gently. "See you when you get home."

A quick taxi ride downtown and Debbie stepped out in front of the boutique of Madame Wythe. Inside was neo-modern and very chic; filled with splashing neon lights and strobes. Pounding disco woofers trembled her body. Fashion mannequins lined the walls, dressed in the Madame's newest clothes. Debbie was drawn to them, looking at their detail, so striking, so lifelike, it was disturbing. They filled their tight dresses of Lycra and Latex. Their breasts swelling with cleavage, their nipples pouting and inviting. The Madame's fashions enhanced their figures to maximize their features.

Debbie searched for seems, but there were none. Their eye lashes were perfect, their eyes were deep with wonder, almost watching her. The mannequins were perfect in every imaginable way. Debbie surveyed them carefully, amazed at their wonderful faces until her eyes locked on the last one. Her body was sensational, her breasts over flowing and firm. Her curvatious hips pouring into long, shapely legs, melting into towering stiletto heels. Her dress, was brilliant red latex, wet and glistening. Her eyes were sparkling sapphire, her lips, a suckling pink. Her handsome face, smooth and perfect...

It was Crissy.

Debbie couldn't breathe. It was so life like, so perfect. She had to test it, she had to know.

She reached out, startled by her own trembling hand and gently caressed the mannequin's face. Her hand jerked back as if she was shocked. The skin was surprisingly warm. She touched it again, feeling the smoothness of the skin, hard and plastic.

"Beautiful, isn't she?"

Debbie nearly leaped out of her skin as the Madame entered the room fashionably late. So entranced by the mannequin Debbie didn't even notice that the music had been turned off. "I find that only the perfect mannequins can model my perfect fashions. Don't you agree?"

Debbie found her mouth dry and her voice, tiny. "It’s Crissy."

"Hmmm? Oh yes!" Madame said just noticing the mannequin and not her design. "It is, Cristina Malcome, the most beautiful woman in the world. Simply captivating isn't she? Anything she wears sells. I had this mannequin made in her image. Now come, let me show you what's coming up this fall."

The Madame walked off, still raving about her newest fashions, but Debbie could only stare at the mannequin before her. It was too perfect.

Debbie reached out and took the doll's rubber sleeve, peeling it back from the wrist. She could see the faint scars when Crissy had slashed herself in her suicide attempt. Debbie's mind reeled. Crissy had kept her attempt a total secret, only she and Patty knew. There was no way that any sculptor could know!

"What is it my darling?"

The Madame was beside her again, startling her. Debbie's mouth was jerking up and down with horror. "What did you do to her?" She screamed with near hysteria. "What have you done?"

The Madame moved quickly, striking Debbie in the stomach.

The reporter bent over as a massive ball of lightning exploded in her belly, knocking her to the floor. The Madam was on top of her striking her with the stun gun again before putting it away.

The Madame grabbed her, dragging her towards her workshop. "Andre!" She shouted. "Help me here!"

Andre moved the curtain aside, quickly grabbing up Debbie's feet. "What happened?"

"I don't know how but she found us out. We have to get her into the workshop."

Debbie was in too much pain to resist as she was carried into the back room. They carried her over to an antique sewing machine in the corner. There, the Madame, kicked at the leg and a secret door swung opened. Quickly they shuffled in, dragging Debbie into the darkened room. Debbie could barely see in the dim light, but felt the biting steel of manacles locking about her wrists. Desperately she tried to summon the breath to scream, but the lasting effects of the stun gun was too much for her. She felt something soft push against her teeth, spreading her jaws apart painfully. Just as she thought her mouth would split apart, the ball slipped in, pinning down her tongue. She felt it strap tightly behind her head, pulling her cheeks back and almost making her squint.

The lights came on and she looked up at the gray cement walls covered with splattered paint. An unfinished room with the only way out, closing shut with a metal bang. Debbie felt pain still bubbling within her as she moved.

"What are we going to do with her?" Andre asked.

The Madame looked at him with angry, flashing eyes. "What do you think?" She looked down at Debbie who was trying to undue the buckle to her gag. "Stop that!" She hissed. "Make her stop!"

Andre grabbed the chain linked to the cuffs and yanked Debbie's hands over her head, almost lifting her from the floor. Debbie felt the crushing pain of the unforgiving cuffs and held still. "When will this stop? How many more?" Andre pleaded to the Madame.

"As many as I say!" The Madame hissed.

Andre sighed as he reached to the back wall and flipped the lever to an electric winch. Slowly, Debbie was lifted to her feet. She followed the chain, raising her hands above her head. Mercifully, Andre shut off the winch before she was lifted off the ground.

The Madame smiled. "Besides, I think she would make a lovely addition, don't you?"

Debbie shook her head in protest as Andre cut away her clothes. The Madam only slapped her to be still. Once nude, the Madame smiled again, running her hands over Debbie's firm breasts, tweaking the nipples. "Yes, a very good addition."

Andre was bringing a metal rod over. "Madame, we keep this up, and they'll come looking for us."

"That's what you said about all of them. No one comes looking here."

Glumly, Andre attached the pole to Debbie's cuffs, then the other end, he connected shackles and attached them to Debbie's ankles, forcing her to stand up straight. He turned and looked at Debbie's face with an expert eye. "I'm out of brown." He said simply.

The Madame looked as well. "Use green. Yes, she would look pretty with green eyes."

Andre nodded and fetched a tray with rows of eyeballs. He took up a green ones as the Madame grabbed Debbie's head. He forced the large plastic covers over her eyeballs. They were dry and it was hard to blink with them in.

Andre then went behind her, and turning a knob on the pole, stretched Debbie painfully. He quickly flipped on the winch again, lifting her into the air. She squealed in pain as the cuffs chewed into her flesh. Andre left her swinging in the air as he took the cover off a vat sunk into the floor. Debbie could smell the acrid stink of what ever was brewing down there. Andre only pushed her towards it. Then he hit the winch control and slowly lowered her down. Debbie could felt the warm goo swallowing her. Sliding up her legs, her hips, her belly. Soon it swallowed up her breasts and Andre coached her to hold her breath and she forced her eyes shut and sank below. She felt the winch stop as her finger tips submerged. She counted the seconds she was under hoping they were going to bring her up again. But as seconds turned to long minutes, she began to imagine the worst.

Slowly they raised her out and let her drip for a few moments before dunking her in again, and again. It was progressively getting harder to blink with each dunk and after her fifth dunk she couldn't close her eyes! Wide eyed and still pleading, she went under again.

She lost track of time, she lost track of coats. She felt the goo slide off her each time, leaving only an oily shine to her skin, but it tingled, penetrating into her flesh. Was it hours, days before Andre stopped the dunkings? He pushed her over to a platform with a hole in the center. He lowered her down, letting the bottom of the pole sink into the hole. He disconnected the chain and let her stand, braced against the pole. He then turned off the light, left the room and closed the door.

When the lights clicked on again, Debbie realized that she had drifted off to sleep with her eyes open. Andre was inspecting her carefully and nodding with approval. He brought a small box over and set it by her foot. He opened a small compartment on its side and took out a tube. Pealing off its plastic cap, he exposed a needle and with a quick bite of pain, inserted it into a vein's in Debbie's ankle. He taped it in place. Then he placed a packet of clear fluid into another compartment of the box and closed it shut. He flipped the switch and let the machine feed Debbie with the needed nutrients to stay alive. After adjusting the feed control, he went to his work bench to fetch more tools.

He stepped over to Debbie and undid her gag. With a sucking pop, he pulled it free. Debbie tried to scream, but found it difficult to draw a breath. She even found it difficult to close her mouth. Andre only shined a light down her throat.

"Whaa, why ah ooo oing his?" Debbie tried to speak.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this. I wanted to create the perfect model for mother's, ah, the madam's clothes. It was supposed to be temporary. But I got careless and didn't test it enough and accidentally turned my assistant, Angela into a living mannequin. When the police started looking into my assistant's disappearance, mother covered for me so I didn't go to jail.

"Angela was perfect and she sold my mother's high priced fashions. People would just look at her and almost hypnotically buy what ever she was wearing. It's been so successful, that mother made me create more. Now I'm stuck with it and mother is just as guilty. I'm sorry. But I can't let mother go to jail for this."

And with that, he inserted a tool down Debbie's still open throat, shining a light to guide his way. Debbie gagged, but he went deeper, holding still then squeezing the handle. Debbie tried to scream as the pain shot into her throat, but it felt as if he was holding on to her vocal cords.

He withdrew his tool and loaded another staple. Seconds later, there was a sting of pain and Debbie was silenced!

Andre removed the cuffs from her wrists and ankles and balanced Debbie on her feet. Debbie stood there amazed. She couldn't move! She stood, teetering on her feet with her arms in the air. Andre came over and pushed her arms down, then carried her over to the work bench and laid her down. Then he closed her mouth. "It will take another 24 hours for you to properly harden. Then it will be irreversible. I'm sorry." He looked at her tenderly, almost unsure of what to do. Then he bent over her and kissed her gently. Andre then turned off the lights and left the room.

Debbie could feel herself hardening, tightening.

Across town, Patty shut off her camera. "Okay, Dan, that's a wrap. I will admit, doing the anchoring via live feed from the school was a neat idea."

Dan smiled his killer smile. "Thanks, how did I look?"

"Huh? Oh, you looked fine." Patty said listening into her ear phone. "Say again base...the feed is still on?"

Dan nervously fixed his tie, putting on his t.v. news face. "Are we still on the air?"

Patty started fiddling with her t.v. camera. "No. But the studio is still getting a feed. They can hear and see everything we say." Patty fiddled with the antenna link up and then finally banged on the side of the camera. "Control?" She spoke into her head set. "Are you still receiving? Okay. I'm out." She looked up smiling. "I guess there is a short somewhere. Well, Dan, it’s been a good one."

"I'll see you back at the station."

"Uh..." Patty hesitated. "I'm gonna run an errand first. See you when I see you." Patty climbed into her van, dropped her heavy t.v. camera on the passenger's seat and headed directly to Madame Wythe. Her hands gripped the wheel tightly as her mind trembled with fear and anger. Debbie did not come home last night and when she called Madame Wythe, she got the rudest brush off ever. She parked, grabbed her camera and headed in. Pounded by the music and lights, Patty adjusted the feed on her camera. She scanned quickly, catching the mannequins against the wall, and stepping closer for a better look.

On the other side of the wall, Debbie stared at a blank ceiling. She gave up struggling, unable to move the slightest muscle. She felt frozen in time, trapped in the hardened shell of her own skin. She could feel the slight breezes when Andre walked by. She could feel his gentle touches, his erotic stokes. His passionate coaching, with his lips and tongue on her nude, frozen body. She halfway wanted to feel for him. But she held back. Partially frightened, partially angry, but mostly dedicated to her lover Patty. Andre could somehow sense her reluctance and only sighed and said she would enjoy his company later, after she adjusts to her new body and forgets her old life.

She watched with her peripheral vision as Andre brought Crissy in on a hand truck. He carefully stood her up and slowly peeled off her clothes. He dusted the latex garb in powder and hung them up. He then took the super model and leaned her back on the work table. Andre adjusted the arms and legs to get her lie properly. Debbie watched as Andre played with her, kissing her body, letting his hands slide across her plastic like skin. He slowly spread her legs and climbing on the table, kissed her below.

Crissy made not a sound, not a move on her own. But when Andre lifted his face from her crotch glistening with sweat, Debbie knew that her friend was enjoying herself.

Andre mounted the supermodel and slowly, passionately made love to her. Her plastic nipples hardened to him. Her bronze skin shined with perspiration as her ribs flexed ever so slightly. Debbie could see Crissy explode with a tremendous orgasm, displayed with only a gentle blush.

Andre came with a grunt and quickly climbed off her, peeling away his condom as he did. He cleaned himself, and then cleaned her, talking to her as he did. Debbie could barely see, but imagined the content, secret smile on Crissy's lips were not shaped from Andre's skilled hands, but formed from within.

Andre took out his paints and touched up her lips and shadow. Then he dressed her again in a long PVC sleeveless dress with spiney high heels. Finally, he stood her up and combed out her hair. He blew on her lips to be sure they were dry and kissed them very lovingly.

He put her back on the hand cart and took her out to the main room. He shut off the pounding music and flashing lights because it irritated him as he entered the main room. The main lights went on automatically that startled a woman with a t.v. camera who was filming the boutique.

"Uh, can I help you?" Andre said nervously as he wheeled Crissy into place.

Patty only stared at the form of the Crissy. "I'm from the news. I'm the photographer for the Madame interview." Patty recited her practiced shtick, still watching Crissy. "I'm just doing some back ground filming and... that is amazing!"

Andre adjusted Crissy's pose. "Thanks." He said nervously. "Uh, the Madame is not here right now. Perhaps you should come back some other time."

Patty ignored him. "I mean, it looks so much like Crissy. She was a friend of mine. Look, it even has the scar from..." Suddenly Patty's eyes flared. "It is Crissy!"

Andre suddenly panicked and reached for the camerawoman. Quickly Patty shoved the camera at him and punched him in the face with it. She turned and headed full speed to the door, colliding with the Madame. Patty buckled over from pain as the Madame's stun gun hit her in the ribs. Andre ran over, pulling the camerawoman off of his mother. "Take her to the room!" The Madame shouted angrily as she picked her self up. "Don't give me that look! Go!"

Andre obeyed. Once in the work room, as Patty came around, she tried to struggle, but Andre over powered her and quickly had her gagged, cuffed, stripped and suspended. "She knows about Cristina. She said something about scars." Andre said as he stripped Patty's clothes.

Madame came in, carrying Patty's camera and closing the door. "We will have to take Cristina off display. She was such a good seller."

"And what will he do with this one? She's not the model type."

The Madame gave Patty the up and down. "She is too short but she is cute. You can have her."


"You don't think I don't know what you do with the dolls when I'm not here?" Madame glared at him. "You can make her a doll and take her home." Andre looked away, ashamed. "Look at these lovely boobs." The Madame grabbed Patty's melonous breast, offering it to him. Patty twisted futilely in her bonds.

"Mother, don't be vulgar!"

"Look who's giving who a lecture on morality, mister high and mighty. Now give me and hand with Cristina, then we will come back here and dunk you a new girlfriend."

"I would have a real girlfriend if you didn't keep me cooped up here!"

The Madame turned harshly. "I think the police will keep you far more cooped up than I ever will if you don't help me right NOW!" She turned, charging out of the room. Andre looked back apologetically and followed.

Patty struggled, but her shackles were unyielding. Her desperate eyes searched the room, but there was no way out. On one of the work tables she saw the familiar nude form of Debbie. Inside, Patty moaned with horror that her lover had been turned into a motionless mannequin and soon she would too. Patty resumed her struggles.

Moments later, Andre and the Madame returned, wheeling in the still body of Crissy. They stood her up in the corner. Andre moved her arms to her sides and brushed a bit of dust from her perky nose.

"What are you doing?" Madame roared.

"Mother." Andre squeaked in a tiny voice. "She is a living being."

Patty's eyes widened in terror at the thought, but the Madame only thrust her fists into her hips. "You stop playing doll house this instant! Now I have to go and hide her news van. When I get back, I expect a new mannequin! Get busy!"

The Madame turned with a rough flourish and stormed out. Andre only sadly looked at the struggling body of Patty. "I'm sorry it has to be this way. But you'll learn to like it. All of them do." Andre kicked the cover off the vat. He operated the winch and lifted Patty into the air. He turned the knob on the spreader bar and stretched her out so she couldn't even wiggle.

He took a moment to match her eye color with the available eye shields that he had. He selected a hazel set and forced them onto her eyes.

He positioned her over the vat, then went to the winch control. Patty struggled in vain as she peered down into the glop. She was helpless!

The door opened slowly, a cop, amazed at finding the secret switch peered in the room. "Freeze!" He screamed drawing his gun. "Get away from there!"

Suddenly the room was filled with cops and Patty was taken down. With a police officer's rain coat over her shoulders, Patty pulled the eye shields off, blinking quickly to clear the dryness, as an officer unbuckled her gag.  She swept to the side of her lover. "Debbie! Debbie can you hear me?"

"She can hear you." Andre said as the police cuffed him.  "She can see you and feel you."

The police sergeant entered the room with the Madame in cuffs. "Just what is going on in here?"

"I'll explain that Sergeant." Dan "Anchorman" Huges strode into the room. "This woman with the help of her son are kidnapping beautiful women and turning them into mannequins so she can sell her over priced clothes."

The sergeant looked at him. "How do you know that?"

Hugh smiled his killer smile. "Good investigative reporting." When no one appeared to believe him, he went on. "Patty's camera audio/visual feed link doesn't shut off. We watched the whole thing from our mobile news van and have it on tape. Take `em away."

"No wait!" Patty shouted at Andre. "You have to unfreeze them! You have to take off what ever you put on."

Andre shook his head. "I can't do it. Its irreversible." Andre looked at the sergeant. "I can take care of them. I won't do it again." He looked at his mother angrily. "It’s all her fault, her and her stupid fashions!"

"Shut up, Andre!" Madame growled.

"No! You shut up!"

The sergeant motioned to his officers to take them away. He shook his head in bewilderment as he pulled out his radio. "Headquarters...I need paramedics, detectives, a medium regular coffee and an over time chit."

Debbie sat in her favorite chair. She stared dreamily out the window, watching the comings and going of the people on the street. Feeling the moving warmth of the sun slide across her body, she kept track of time.

She watched with building joy as Patty's van pulled up and parked. Moments later, she could hear the key in the lock and the door swing open. She could hear Patty fumble with groceries and her bright, "Hi Hon, I'm home."

Patty's cute face swept across her vision. He soft lips met with hers in a sweet kiss. "Mmmm." Debbie said.

"News'll be on in a minute." Patty said, checking the battery in Debbie's I.V. feeder. "And I rented a movie. We can sit on the couch and snuggle..." Patty fingered Debbie's skirt coyishly.

"Mmmmm" Debbie said deliciously. With the staples removed from her vocal cords, Debbie could make noise and Patty was quick to learn the differences in the inflections of "Mmmm".

Slipping her arms under Debbie, Patty lifted her with a grunt and carried her over to the couch, plopping her down next to Crissy. Patty straightened out their dresses and tilted Crissy's head slightly, then changed channels on T.V.

"Mmmm!" Crissy protested.

"You can't watch soaps twenty four hours a day, Crissy." Patty softened her scolding with a kiss on Crissy's inviting lips. "I'm gonna get something to eat and join you guys in a second."

Dan "Anchorman" Huges filled the screen and he announced the sentencing of "The Mannequin Madame. Life with the possibility of parole if a cure for the living Mannequins could be found. Andre was sentenced to house arrest at N.Y.U. with an electronic monitoring bracelet so he could work on a cure with other leading scientists. Meanwhile, the useful study of Mannequination was being evaluated for the preservation of critical cancer victims..."

Debbie's thoughts drifted. She could hear the putter of her lover in the kitchen, and the warmth of her best friend at her side. Why would she want a cure?

Copyrighted, all rights reserved.  Story may not be reproduced without prior written permission from the author.

Any comments to:
The Mannequin Madame
Her fashion always sells when displayed on her beautiful, life-like mannequins.  Perhaps a little too life-like.  Can anyone escape the Mannequin Madame?
The Date, 8 Art and story by DX.

You need arm candy!

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An armbinder keeps her from fiddling with anything and promotes that perfect bust line.

A latex gag is used becasue we at Wrongco believe that silence is golden and layering on gags is the way to do it.

A surgical steel collar is welded on to insure better poise, form and bearing.

A harness is warpped around the shoulders to sung down the bound arms and to insure a svelt design and a web under skirt to keep the feet restricted to the tiniest of steps. First, she looks most dainty with small steps and two, she is sure not to bolt on you. Ballet shoes insure delicate feet and promote the perfect arch for the leg line and a frim lift to the buttocks. No detail is too small at Wrongco!

Eye pads are taped securly in place to insure her eyes don't roam. Her ears are plugged with a filter device that is programed to the wave patterns of your voice. This means all other noise, save your voice, will be heard as a faint background white noise. This insures she will hang on to every word you say. A remote control which can be disguised as a watch or ring, can turn off the filters so that she hears nothing and insures private meetings stay private. Earlier models allowed things like smoke alarms and car horns to be heard, but we discovered this caused the candidate undue stress. Its not like she could find the nearest exit, or run for her life, so this feature was disabled. She's helpless and depends on you to keep her safe. But rest assured, in case of the unthinkable, our candidates are insured for death and dismemberment, you will only be responsible for the deductable.

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And there you have it, your Perfect Date. Wrongco also includes a Forever Your's option. Since so many of our customers are so happy with their Perfect Dates, they want them as Perfect Wives, even going to the extent of having mock weddings. For this package, the restraints are welded and expoxied on and the mask is Biopoxied in place permanently, insureing that your Perfect Date will last a life time!

Order your Perfect Date today!




Today, August 13 2018 at about 0945 am, EDT, I saw under the Newest category a series of child porn images.  You need to delete these images and report the poster to the authorities.  The poster is conhead220.  I cannot give you better specifics as I am not clicking on these images.  
Date 7, Art by DX
With the mask locked, she is given perfect hair.  Her neckless not only secures the mask in place, but is also a tracking device so we can reclaim her in the event you have to leave in a hurry.  



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Peter Rook
United States
A fan of the odd, the kink, the fantasy. My friend and cohort, DX, is the artist and writer. She does the work, I do the web.


Add a Comment:
hygymyty Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2017
I have a list of stories that I think we'd all love to see posted:
- Victim
- Sex Object
- Evil
- Kidnapped
peterrook Featured By Owner Nov 24, 2017
Ok!  I'll get them up promptly.
elenawhor Featured By Owner Nov 21, 2017
Thank you for your comment!! I so love your gallery
peterrook Featured By Owner Nov 23, 2017
Thank you!
TVLatexsub Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2017  Professional Traditional Artist
Thank you so much dear for the favorite 💋
Its kind of you to expose my art .
peterrook Featured By Owner Nov 2, 2017
You're Welcome!
aliencaster Featured By Owner Sep 12, 2017  Hobbyist Writer
May the Llama be with you!
peterrook Featured By Owner Sep 12, 2017
If you insist.
hygymyty Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2017
Ever consider posting A New Prenuptial and its images?
peterrook Featured By Owner Aug 2, 2017
Yes.  I'll do that after this series!
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