MTV Awards Pt. 01

Two months ago, just when we were on holiday in California, Jeff, my husband, said he had to pay a visit to a friend of his, who is in the FX industry. Also, he told me I was to follow him there. We meet him at his office, a big warehouse, in the outskirts of downtown LA.

The building inside was divided in many different rooms but there was a space, a sort of foyer, in which some of his previous works were exposed on exhibit. There was the latex costume of the Borg Queen (a copy of it, as a matter of fact) from Star Trek, I could see the poster of Michelle Pfeiffer as Catwoman, then on a corner there was a costume of one of the Uruk-Hai from The Lord of the Rings.

Bill was there waiting for us, he greeted Jeff and me and after a little chat we were introduced in Bill's study.

It was a very big room with large windows, there were drawing boards with sketches strewn on them, a multitude of books about cinemas and FX.

I was sort of left outside by their conversation, and was wandering in the studio, browsing the books and the drawings. I overheard that Bill was an associate of the Company, and he was in charge of rendering and 3d models. Then Jeff shot a phrase. "I was wondering, Bill, could you make a 3d model of Trish, my wife?"

"Sure, it is not very difficult. We can do that right now."

And now I was at the center of conversation.

"If you want to follow me?" He directed us in a room, that reminded me of the holodeck on the Enterprise, just to remain on subject.

Floors, walls and ceiling were all designed with yellow lines that formed a square pattern on the entire room. I was awestruck by this, but Bill was very cool, after all it was his work. So he proceeded to explain.

"On the walls there are cameras and sensors. We position the model, Trish in this case, in the center of the room and a photo is made from every camera in the room. Then all photos are fed into a computer and in a matter of hours, days for the most complex models, we get the 3d image of the model in a file. That can be used to recreate the image on screen in a scene or as a reference for moulding and creating costumes."

That last sentence was pronounced looking at Jeff directly in the eyes, as if to suggest something, or to refer to something they had discussed before. Then he conducted me in a nearby room and asked me to strip and to put a lycra blue suit on. It was quite tight, and it had socks and gloves attached, it also had a hood and the only thing that was left uncovered was my face.

Once I was squeezed in that thing Bill instructed me to stay in the middle of the room keeping my arms stretched out and my legs spread a meter apart. Finally he ordered me to stay still while he and Jeff left the room leaving me alone.

This suit was so thin I was feeling like I was completely in the nude, and this bothered me, but then again I realized I was alone in the room, so there was no problem of being seen by anyone.

In a moment I heard electric noises and sort of wiring sounds, then I saw red lines shining through the room creating a grid on my entire body, and in the end I was filmed by the cameras.

Before starting, Bill told me that the whole process would took just a minute, but I felt it was lasting forever.

Suddenly, after a while, the whole room fell silent again, and Bill and Jeff entered the door and told me it was all over and done. Again I went to the locker room to peel off the lycra suit, and dress again in my street clothes.

When I met Bill and Jeff again in the studio, they were looking at a large monitor where, they told me, a program was building my 3D model. At that point, all I could see was a sort of a model of a human that was being defined more as the photos were analysed by the software.

I saw my breasts defined inch for inch, then there was my buttocks, my arms, legs and all the rest.

I am not tall, some might say petite, 160 cm, with bouncing breasts, that Jeff adore to tease and it was a strange, if not totally weird, sensation to see my physical portrait on that computer screen, so defined growing similar to me by the minute. Then Bill invited us to lunch.

We went out to a restaurant while the computer was completing its job.

In the afternoon, we returned to Bill's office. The software had completed the task and, on the screen, I could see a puppet with my breast, my butt, my legs, arms, hands and feet. The 3dmodel was then burned on a DVD so that we had a souvenir of the experience.

The day after that, we got on a plane to return home, on the east coast in New York.

In the months after that, Bill sent us more gifts, he used my 3d model to do some fake composition, and sent me the images, so from that moment on my laptop, on the desktop, there was me clinging to a young Richard Gere on the poster of Pretty Woman, and on Jeff's desktop there was again my body in the poster of Histoire D'O, obviously in the place of Corinne Clery.

I doubt that I have already told you that me and my husband are bondage enthusiasts. We both have our pet fantasies and fetishes. He like to tie me in some sort of restriction but without cutting my freedom of movement, so that I can move, do something and still be restricted in someway.

So, sometimes we engage in outdoor bondage, where I'm tied strictly but I can go with him to the cinema, to the theatre, to the restaurant.

Usually we use devices or restraint hidden under the clothes, some years we bought a chastity belt, some chastity harnesses. A time, not too long ago I went with him in New York, we even took the ferry to visit Staten Island and the Statue of Liberty, and during all the time I could not use my arms, tied behind me in a leather arm binder. Mind you, he was a precious, he was there for me, he helped me eating, even to the restroom, but he choose that all the trip was dove by public transportation. So, I had to take the underground and then the ferry, and back. During all that time the padlock keys were on our dinner table.

That was pretty interesting, he had me wearing a mantle all day to disguise my predicament.

He knows that I like public bondage and strictness and he knows that obviously that is something not easily achieved together, because strict always contrasts with going out.

After returning from the California trip, we got back to our usual routine, only difference was Jeff convincing me to take yoga lessons, so after a couple of months I regained most the flexibility I had in my youth, sort of.

Then he disciplined me more often than usual with a single glove arm binder (after yoga my elbows touched without any problem), and used a new discipline hood, with a cock gag and nose tubes. Those tubes were the only uncomfortable part of that device, since they were little tubes that were supposed to be lubed and pushed up my nostrils. When he first fitted me with them, I nearly panicked, but after a while, I learned to breathe normally even with them on. Mostly he let my eyes free, but sometimes he closed the eyes slits with a blindfold and left me wandering around the house. One evening, I was standing behind him when he was reading his email on the computer. Standing was in fact the only thing I could do since he had dressed me with an armbinder that made impossible for me to sit or squat since it was connected with a chain to an eyelet stuck in the ceiling of the room.

There was a spreader bar on my ankles that kept them apart. So there was no chance on me getting anywhere. He rotates the monitor and then he told me. "Honey, do you remember Frizo?"

Frizo is the nickname of a fetish artist that works in the New York area, one night me and Jeff went to some of his exhibition in a club downtown last year.

During that night he had asked me to model for him some of his creations. As a result, I had to pass the rest of the night in a latex catsuit with my arms encased prayer-style behind me.

At the end of the evening, Frizo told me that he had a lot of orders for the same model I was wearing and that he would thank me in the near future.

"Yep, if you talk to him, could you please remember that I am still awaiting for his thanks?"

"Honey he is writing that he invites you to the MTV awards, in New York, next month. Do you think you are thanked enough?"

I was simply astonished. The MTV awards?

"What does he mean?" I gulped.

"The night, the red carpet, the seats, the after show party"

"Oh my god,are you sure?"

"Yes, the only catch is that you will model one of his creations!"

Now I was truly speechless.

"Don't worry, no one will recognize you. Are you game or not?"

"Damn, you live only once. C'mon, tell him I am in!"

A month after that night, we received the details, I was to present myself at the Ambassador in Manhattan the same day of the show, in the morning. The main event was in two weeks.

So, today is the day. I was not able to sleep last night. Jeff cuddled with me to calm down my nerves, I was a bit nervous. Jeff is refusing to tell me anything about the dress. The only thing I know is that he and Frizo have exchanged ideas for the last month, but he is at least too paranoid to let anything slip. This morning we jump in the car, sliding in the traffic. The trip is quite uneventful, the traffic is huge, but when we arrive at the Ambassador, we were greeted by a valet, that take our car keys and direct us to go to lifts.

I am still nervous as hell, and when we are about to knock at the suite door, Jeff turns to me and says: "Your last call, if you want, we go in, else we go away. Don't worry, Frizo will understand."

Then he makes a step away from the door. I'm assaulted by doubts, then I breathe deeply, and I myself knock at the door. In a second, the door opens.

"Come in, please."