Statueified Attractions

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A couple become display statues in an erotic sexual exhibit.
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My eyes swiveled in their sockets, searching the crowd around me, desperate for their help yet completely unable to request it. How had this happened? I could hardly remember. Everything in the last few hours floated hazily around my brain as if magically inclined, like props in a Harry Potter movie, spinning about and playing themselves on a loop for an audience that clearly did not include me. I knew they were there; I had little hints of things happening - purple, orange, green, blue, lightness and darkness - but that was all they were, vague lights and muted sounds.

My eyes rolled in their sockets and I looked down at what lay before me. I was standing at the end of a bed, a simple frameless contraption with a regular mattress on it. Spread-eagled on the mattress, her naked body inclined up to meet mine lay my girlfriend, the cutest, biggest-mouthed white Latina in the country. Her flowing red hair billowed across the sheets, spread out like a halo around her head, forming a stark and sexy contrast for her soft white face and huge blue eyes. Below that, I could see her body disappearing into the edges of my vision, her bare chest and torso gently curling upwards so that her crotch could meet my own. I couldn't see that far down my own body, but I knew that her legs were spread either side of my hips, knees cocked so that her calves could curl in behind me, her toes pointed. I could feel the soft point of her heels in my lower back. As I watched her, I saw her eyes turning too, the only part of her she was apparently still able to control, just like me.

Ariadne stared up at me, her usually cute face placid. I thought I knew what that gaze was trying to tell me - I figured it was likely to be much the same as my own current thoughts. I wondered if she could read anything on my face, or even if my face was showing anything at all - because, if hers was any indication, I was likely to be just as well masked as she was, my body language hidden behind a blank stare. Those two blue orbs seemed to bore into mine for a long, long time until eventually she flicked them away, trying once more to find someone in the room around us that would help us.

Between us there was little space. In fact, there was no space. Naked as we both were, we had been positioned in such a way that we were frozen mid-coitus, my hard cock only showing perhaps half an inch of skin between where it emerged from my body and plunged into hers. What little hair we had between us only served to darken our bodies, not conceal them, and I knew that her body could be seen at the right angle just as well as mine could. I could feel her around me, her warmth present but unmoving, apparently as frozen as the rest of her. I figured the same must be the case for her - there she lay, tilted downwards, her hips raised above her in my hands, widely-spread legs open to allow me to plunge inside her, filling her up in this snapshotted moment and yet not moving, not throbbing, not even twitching. I might as well have been a silicone dildo for all the pleasure my penis was able to bring her in that moment.

But that's not to say there was none. No, because while we wore no clothes, my girlfriend Ariadne and I were not completely naked. Instead, I wore a black cock ring, adorned with a curved, knurled bulb that I was wearing pointed downwards so that the bulbous head fitted the shape of her perineum and rested atop her asshole. There was a matching black bulb embedded in my own backside, parting my cheeks so that all could see the round space where it occupied me. There was a collar around my neck, red and leathery. The large golden ring embedded in the centre bore a matching red leash, and it had been hooked over my shoulder, out of the way of our frozen intercourse.

Ariadne was not free of sex toys either. There was a strap around her waist, and though this strap bore nothing in its crotch, instead parting into two smaller straps that ran either side of her occupied vagina, it did feature spaces to attach various sexually enhancing toys. One was a clitoral stimulator, a rabbit-style vibrator designed to hang above the vagina during sex to massage the clit while being penetrated. Similarly, there were electro-shock pads attached to her lower abdomen, stomach, and thighs, recreating the popular muscle-therapy-inspired sex 'toy' useful for causing powerful spasms and thrilling electrical currents in the skin. A pair of lumpy pink clamps clung to my partner's nipples - they were vibrating nipple clamps, pink and connected by a wire and a control pad in the middle. Lastly, her lips were parted into a comical 'O' shape by a red ball gag that matched her hair, holding her jaw open. I was glad that I hadn't been the one to bear that toy, if only so that I did not drool unendingly onto our copulated bodies below.

As I looked around us, watching the people outside us moving through the darkness, their bodies mostly masses of dark shadow, I began to wonder why I wasn't more panicked. Here I stood, feet firmly planted on the floor, as if I had hit pause on a porno of my girlfriend-of-a-year-and-nine-months and I mid-thrust, covered with every kind of kink-friendly toy that should have had us both screaming in either pleasure or horror - and yet I did not move? Surely, surely I couldn't move - even if I had wanted this, would I not have pushed into her or perhaps leaned down to grasp a breast? Yet why didn't I? Why did I continue to stand here, neither feeling anything nor thinking anything, except these neutral, emotionless thoughts? I was more curious than scared or angry, as if intrigued enough to momentarily ponder the predicament before me, when what I should have been doing is ripping myself away and punching through the glass.

A lightbulb moment, that had been. As I looked, I realized for what seemed to be the first time, as I discovered why those masses of dark shapes were so dull and quiet - Ariadne and I were behind glass. Not just one pane, either - no, we stood, from what I could make out from my position standing roughly diagonal to the case, in a glass cube. I could see three walls, my nose pointed into the corner of two of them but slightly to one side so that I could make out the corner to my right. Ariadne's red head pointed in that direction below me, and I watched her blue eyes move and turn as she too looked for answers.

I began to think back, trying to retrace my steps. I began in the car, driving with Ariadne towards the museum, intending to enjoy a sunny winter's day out, a rare occasion where both of us had taken a day off and not been sick or covered in appointments. We had left around ten, and gone to get coffee before—

The toys attached to our bodies came suddenly to life. I stiffened, or I would have if my muscles had been under my control. Instead, my insides hardened while my body visibly made little response to the sudden stimulus, tensing slightly but not moving an inch. I felt the cock ring push against Ariadne's pucker, the ring buzzing against my balls. The butt-plug embedded in my own previously never-regions thrummed overpoweringly, though certainly pleasurably. Of everything, the part of us that moved most was Ariadne's breasts as they rippled gently beneath the clamps, the two fluid shapes not bound by unrelenting muscle. For a few moments, Ariadne and I stared at each other, both feeling the toys at work yet neither moving a muscle, quite literally. After several more long seconds, the toys switched off, and we both returned to our previous state. I thought I could perhaps see Ariadne's chest rising and falling a little harder, and I wondered if she could see mine doing the same - our paralysis seemed not to as deep as our organs, only our outer torsos and extremities.

I returned to my previous train of thought with some difficulty. Thinking back, I replayed the drive, the jokes we laughed at, the drive-thru coffee and the parking space. I thought I could remember walking into the museum, seeing the list of displays on show... But what had they been? Clearly, I had found the edge of my affected memory, because beyond that point it was only more vague lights. I remembered... Something, something about a... What was it? What was 'purple'? Why could I see purple lights?

The toys came to life again, stimulating us simultaneously. I clenched around the tube in my rear end and felt the buzz of the cock ring moving up through my hardened shaft. I wondered if she could feel it inside her, through my erect shaft, or if she could only feel the toy itself. I wondered what that toy felt like over her back door - then, I correlated it vaguely to what I was feeling at mine.

This time when the toys stopped, I cast my eyes around, hunting for the cause. For a long while I couldn't make it out and was beginning to assume it was someone remote, perhaps hiding in an office with a camera view or with a timer set on a phone somewhere. But then, as I pondered this, I saw another figure approach us and look down at a blurry shape roughly in front of our glass case. The shadowy figure lifted a hand and depressed a finger into something there, and an instant later, Ariadne and I came buzzing to life once more. Someone to the left of the first put their face close to the glass, and I saw a pair of eyes staring in at me. We held each other's gaze for a moment, theirs taking my partner and I in, my own just locked on theirs. Then, they disappeared.

I looked down at Ariadne. She looked up to me, and I thought I could sense something passing over her face. Without more to go on, I couldn't tell if it was fear, curiosity, or perhaps arousal following the buzz of the toys. I didn't know what to think myself, and I'm sure my face gave her equally few clues. I didn't know what to make of it, but one thing was clear - our toys were connected to a remote control outside of our glass case, and people were turning them on as they desired, seemingly for their own entertainment.

Time passed us by in the glass cube as people came up to us and turned on our toys. Some circled us, some took pictures of us through the glass, others tried to spam the button so that we buzzed non-stop for minutes on end. Ariadne and I definitely breathed harder after that session finally ended, but no pulsing ejaculation or squeezing orgasm reached either of us. Eventually, with enough of a gap in the onslaught, I managed to enough to retrace my steps after entering the museum.

There had been a sign... And then a new display, yes... And we had decided to check it out... There had been a guide waiting outside, offering us a tour... We said yes... It was behind closed doors, and they led us in... Then what? Then... Then we went in, and... And it was full of light and sound, full of spinning, spiraling lights... Yes, blinding spiraling colours... I remember feeling weightless, staring into the ceiling... I remember Ariadne's huge eyes; they reflected the lights in them... Then we were in the next room, blue and like deep water... Then... Then green, soothing like grass... Yellow like sunlight, red like blood, then... Then...

When at last I figured it out, I had lost count of the number of times our toys had buzzed. I had almost grown accustomed to the eyes and vibrations constantly surrounding us, grown desensitized to the body of my girlfriend spreadeagled beneath me. My eyes widened as my brain finally, finally pulled the image down from the stars of my head and showed it to me.

I remember a room of screens, of all the colours from before, all mixed into one. I remember floating, twisting, falling... I remember a voice telling me words I could not hear, my body moving without my instruction. I remember... I remember obeying as I stepped into the cube, staring into Ariadne's eyes but seeing only the numbing, overpowering light room as I grew hard and slipped into her, holding her up as she wrapped herself around me before that voice told us to freeze in place, and then...

As if a light had turned on in a dark room, I blinked. Suddenly, I could see it all. Though still blurry and threatening to fade from my mind again, I could just see those memories lined up in a row. The rooms, the screens, the words - I knew enough to realize that we had been brainwashed somehow and told to stand here like this. I knew that it was our minds, not some restraints that held us here, and that meant I could break it. All I had to do was think...

But as I thought, the memory of that room refused to fade away, even as the others did. And as I pushed myself to lift even a finger from Ariadne's waist, I saw that bottomless kaleidoscope seeping into my periphery, drowning out the cube, the room and even her body as it closed in. I tried desperately to resist it, to do something, anything, to scream, to cry, to pull away or jump or run or just to stiffen my stupid dick. But the only thing I could successfully do was stare back down into the wide blue eyes of my beloved, sexy mixed-race partner and watch as that spinning, warping light overpowered me. It closed in, parting me from my world, my sight, my own brain, and I dropped immediately into an empty, floating nothingness in its centre, surrounded by it and only it. All thought left my brain in an instant, and my consciousness floated away from my body over a distant, unending horizon far, far away.

Once again a placid statue in my case, I stared sightlessly forwards, my hard cock embedded in my girlfriend as people filtered through the museum attraction, gazing in awe at the complexity and realness of the sculptures. Our exhibit, titled "The Absurdity of the Technology Inside Us" drew many fascinated eyes; many more pressed the interactive button, watching the various toys attached to us come to life. Not a few men ogled Ariadne's tits, and many enjoyed turning on the toys so that they would shake softly. One lot tried to buzz us enough that the clamps might pop off, or perhaps my plug might fall out - but neither did, and they left us after ten minutes of dedicated buzzing.

I don't know if I came. I don't know much at all really. I could have been in that case for an hour or a week; even now, the memory is a vague, absent blur. I know that eventually we were freed. Someone unlocked a door in the case and stepped inside, removing those toys not too involved in our copulation; the nipple clamps came off, the electrodes peeled from Ariadne's skin, and my butt-plug slipped free at long last. The ball-gag lifted from Ariadne's mouth but she didn't move to close it until the person in our case spoke something we could not hear. All of a sudden, there we were again, moving stiffly. I felt Ariadne soften around me, felt her legs slump against me as her joints slowly freed themselves from their positions. My legs ached and my cock seemed not to know what to do; it both throbbed with arousal and with tension, as though it needed to be deflated quickly. I withdrew from my girlfriend and stood patiently as I softened, and the cock ring was pulled from my unrelenting body. Then, at last separated and once more completely bare, Ariadne and I stepped down from the case and followed our handler obediently through the now empty museum space.

Spirals and hypnosis art adorned the walls; TV screens played snippets of different forms of induction videos, and models of toys, people and writings were everywhere. Pictures in their hundreds, of people in all states of trance, looked down at me, from placid men and women gazing through the camera to people positioned like dogs or chickens on the floor. Stage artists gestured towards slumped volunteers, and pictures of more pornographic hypnosis showed women standing with their arms out or holding pendants before their blank eyes.

Ariadne and I followed our handler silently towards a back area. As we walked, we looked around at everything involved in this exhibit, and it was only as we passed another case that I looked inside and actually saw what was in it. I paused, staring as I recognized the scene displayed inside - not by the people or the act itself, but by how strikingly similar it was to our own.

This glass case was still lit and closed, and in it, two women lay atop an extra-large bed not unlike ours. They were naked, and from my angle I could see them both from their fronts. Each had one leg down on the bed and the other up in the air; their hips were interlocked such that their crotches crisscrossed one another. There was no space between the two vulvas, and the couple had clearly been posed in the classic 'scissoring' position synonymous with lesbian couples. Indeed, the right-hand woman fitted the stereotypical idea of a lesbian quite well; beneath her two modest breasts, she had visible abdominal muscles, and her arms showed slight yet defined bicep muscles. She was slender, and her round head was nearly all close-shaved, her scalp dark with short hair. Only a crop of slightly longer hair stood out along the top of her head, and she wore it messy so that it spiked in all directions. She had dark mascara on and plenty of shadow, and her lips were plastered with a complimentary black lipstick, not dark enough to hide the red of her natural colour but enough to match it to her emo look. She had bracelets around both wrists, two leather cuffs in the middle of a multitude of strings, beads, bands and hair ties. Her pubic hair had been shaved Brazilian-style.

Her partner was the opposite, yet equally fitting. She was blonde and had shoulder-length golden hair. Her face was uncovered and quite naturally attractive. Her blue eyes shone, the only other colour in her white features. Her breasts were larger than her partners and hung further, though she was grasping the upper of the two in her hand, her grip tight enough to compress the flesh but not enough to bruise it. She seemed to be larger than her partner, though probably shorter, which gave her body a more curved, feminine shape. As I watched, both pairs of eyes swiveled to look at me.

My handler came and I was removed from the display, but not before I got the chance to look further along the corridor. To my left, more lit cases stood - at least another three stretching away towards the far wall. To my right, a line of empty, unlit cases sat, ours the most recent in the chain. Shocked, I realized that we were neither the first, nor the only frozen people used as a centerpiece for this living exhibit to all things hypnosis, sex, and the art of both.

We followed our handler to a back room and were given our belongings. Painfully, we struggled into our clothes, bodies raw from the exertion of sustaining ourselves for who knew how long. When we were once more as we had been that morning, we shadowed the handler until they led us into a familiar space, so dark we could barely see the floor. Uncertainly we looked about for our next avenue, but they simply stood beside us. As we looked about, our eyes acclimatizing to the darkness, we waited. Then, suddenly, every inch of the room's ceiling, walls and floor burst to life, shining with spinning, revolving lights that morphed and pinwheeled and collided endlessly.

Ariadne and I fell instantly under the irresistible trance this room had put us in, and our handler spoke to us one by one, telling us words we could not hear. Ariadne did not react as the handler's fingertips slipped over her chest and across her backside, nor did I as her touch traced my jaw and slipped into my pants. I barely felt it as my length slipped through her soft fingertips, my wide eyes unaware as she pushed the button through its fastening and slid the garment down. Entranced as I was, I never knew that my red raw cock had stiffened in her hand, or that she had applied her mouth to it, sampling the taste of Ariadne on my skin. I did not feel her fingertip descending into my rear door, nor did I respond as it sawed gently back and forth. Ordinarily, I would have certainly known when I was being given oral sex, but all I knew there was that infinite, brainwashing light. I didn't even know it when her mouth was replaced with her hand, and her voice slithered into my ear, instructing me to cum for her. I did so promptly and without pause, her rapid strokes helping me as my manhood quickly released a weak dribble, the best my overused yet under-satisfied cock could manage.

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