The Artist Pt. 02

Their exhibition was finally here. She was so excited about pulling off their hoax. She could just hear them talking. "She's so lifelike. She's so beautiful. Exquisite." It would be hard to keep from grinning.

She took off a little early from work, partly because she thought she might need the extra time and partly because she couldn't stop fidgeting and pacing. She wasn't getting anything done and was bothering the rest of the people.

Oh damn, did we leave enough time for some sex? Fuck, how could I forget about that? It turned out that they both decided it would be better to go ahead and get started on the work, but that afterwards, they would more than make up for it.

He had prepared a lovely base for her to stand on and they soon proceeded to "sculpt" her. The work went smoothly, thanks to their earlier practice, and she looked perfect. Posed on her perch with her eyes looking up, her hands outstretched and legs slightly parted, she was the absolute picture of womanhood. He went about preparing the rest of the work and making sure the caterers and others were done. He didn't have to wait long. There was an early knock at the door.

He hastily pulled the curtains closed around his masterpiece. He would wait until everyone was here and ready for his grand unveiling. People milled around enjoying his other works and networking with the local art scene.

There were now about 15 people in his studio and he was working the room greeting and chatting with everyone. What he didn't know was that there was a 16th person in the studio.

Pierre was jealous of him. He always had been. His style was a cheap imitation without the underlying connection to the work. It was just paint on a board. He was connected to a couple of well-to-do local collectors who had no idea what good art was. They had fallen for his song and dance about his work and they sung his praises, much to the chagrin of the local scene. When anyone tried to tell them he wasn't good, they just defended him all the more. If they admitted they made a mistake, then they'd look like fools, so they kept buying and had actually driven the price of his work up.

Pierre hated the attention this showing was getting. He had to get a look at this "masterpiece" he'd heard so much about. He hung around the edges of the group until he saw his chance and poof, he was behind the curtain.

Ohh. Even as prepared as he was to hate it, he couldn't help but be enamored with this piece. It was beautiful. It was beyond beautiful. What material is this? What was his technique?

Breaking the cardinal rule of art, he stepped closer to touch the sculpture.

Trailing his fingers along the wonderful lines of the stomach, Trace felt the attention to detail under his fingers. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful. Her buttocks were curved exactly like a young woman's. His hand felt the curves and marveled.

Inside the statue, Kelli was panicked. What should I do? Could he break part of the covering away? Should she say something? Scream?

Trace continued his examination. With a hasty look around to assure that he wasn't being watched, he raised his hand to those perfect breasts. This kind of realism was beyond him, it was beyond anyone that he knew. How could he make a curve like this so natural with no tool marks of any kind? Both hands went to her breasts, he was enjoying more than just artistic curiosity now.

Damn, I'd love to have one of these at the house just to feel. He imagined himself dressing her up and walking confidently past her while he was naked. He reached down and cupped himself. "You want this baby? You know you do." he said in a whisper.

Inside, her terror stepped up a notch, he was talking to her. How had he found out? What does he want her to say or do? Luckily, her indecision played in her favor because he only waited a little while for the answer to his rhetorical question before he went on.

"Yeah, if you were real I'd give you some of this. I'd reach up and play with those titties all day long too." Now he stood behind her and his dirty hands were back on her breasts. If he messes me up, she thought, I'll kick his ass, let alone what her lover might do.

"I'd have to get a flexible model because I'd want you to be able to bend over." His hands gripped her hips and she heard him pressing against her from behind. What a weasel to hump a statue! Luckily, the coating was thick enough that she couldn't feel everything he was doing, but she felt enough to know.

He finished his rude examination as she knew he would, a finger between her legs. Oh, she was going to kick his ass when this day was over. She would never forget his rude comments and freaky behavior. She was just glad he hadn't started licking her. He wouldn't waste any time getting to that if he did ever get his own statue, she knew. The idea of a grown man licking a big doll was about as creepy as it got.

Well, the feel-up session was over. He peeked through the curtain and left. She was relieved. Having Chester the Molester feel her up had been gross, but having 30 strangers stare at her was exciting. She thought of the thrill she received when she modeled for artists before, but it was going to be nothing like this. When she modeled, they tried to act like they didn't see her as a human, just a thing they were painting. Here, they were all going to be staring, staring long and hard, right at her. Every eye in the place would boldly examine her breasts.

Whispered voices would say "Look at her nipples, they're perfect. Look at her butt." She couldn't wait for her exhibitionist and voyeuristic fun. How often do you get to watch and be watched with no one knowing?

Well, one man knew and he was gonna get his tonight. He was gonna have a full night ahead of him.

She wondered what kinds of fruits the caterers had brought...

It had to be close to time for her unveiling. It was hard to keep track of time in here, but soon she'd finally be able to hear the comments she had been waiting for. She didn't have to wait long.

She heard the curtains rustle- "Okay, my dear, It's time they saw my newest masterpiece." She couldn't respond, but he knew she was ready. The curtains rustled again and he was gone.

"Okay people, it's time. If you'll all gather here by me, I'd like to show you something I'm extremely proud of. Without any further ado, please enjoy..."Number Four!"

She hadn't even discussed what she was going to be called, but "Number Four" was interesting. She imagined all the humorous or artsy connotations it might have. She didn't consider it long though, all her attention soon went to the collective gasp and conversations that soon swarmed over her.

"Oh, she's perfect." "She's beautiful." "Ahhhh" and much quieter "Look at those knockers..." followed by a muted slap. A wife's playful response to an overly appreciative husband, no doubt. That really turned her on.

She wondered if it was anyone she knew. She had no doubt they all had taken a turn staring at her breasts and then down to her perfectly formed labia, and every spot in between. She felt like she was preening for them even while she was immobile like this.

The faint shuffle of feet told her she was being examined from every angle. She hoped her butt looked good. Too late it pull it up now. How many of these men and women were fighting the urge to touch her right now. She felt a tell-tale tingle between her legs. She was getting so wet. Ooh, she had a wicked thought- Next time she's going to have to have him encase her with a remote control vibrator. It would be so awesome to have an orgasm while unable to move and while everyone watched unknowingly. She wasn't sure she could stay quiet for that though. It would be pretty shocking to hear a throaty moan erupt out of the sculpture, heh.

"And now, Ladies and Gentlemen, feel free to touch the work."

This was a shock and a thrill. Yes, everyone come run their hands over me. But quickly, it's going to make me even hotter and then I'm gonna need relief.

The sensations were muted but her heightened imagination made up for the lack. Soft thumps that she knew were hands roamed her body. She imagined warmth coming through the hard coating as their body heat mingled with hers. The daring felt her face, her boobs, her ass. Someone slipped a finger between her legs. How many more were restrained by some inner propriety that wouldn't allow them to fondle her, but were desperate for a caress?

Her pulse was dizzying. Would it be possible to have an orgasm just by thinking? She felt like she was close. Yes, yes, everyone touch my nipples. Feel the smooth curve of my breasts and imagine them free of this casing and reveling in your touch. Imagine me, not bound in this stony shell, but warm and soft and submissive, letting you freely explore my body as you will.

"And now, we stop." There was another collective sigh as he pronounced the showing over. It was maddening for everyone. It had only been 10 or 15 minutes, and it seemed everyone was working up to a fever pitch. She imagined the number of hard-ons she had caused, the number of wet women. There was going to be some hot sex tonight across town. And all of them thinking of her.

It took another 30 minutes for the sounds to die out and what she imagined was the last person leaving. The curtain opened again and she knew he stood in front of her.

"Isn't she lovely?"

Oh crap, there must be someone still here with him. She had nearly ruined everything and spoken.

"Oh yes, she's wonderful." A female voice answered. "I was the first to reach up and touch her breasts and of course the crowd followed anxiously after that. I really felt like a riot was going to break out when you stopped the viewing."

Male voice: "Whew, it was hot in here, wasn't it? I saw Sylvia slide a finger between her ass cheeks and I knew she was fulfilling a fantasy she's considered a thousand times. She was dying for that to be a real woman in front of her."

Female voice: "Oh I know, she's so uptight. Maybe I'll do a little teasing for her sometime and watch her squirm uncomfortably."

Male voice: "Mmmm, you're such a minx."

Was that the sound of a soft kiss? Had he just kissed the girls neck or cheek, her forehead, just then?

Female voice: "I know, I'm a bad girl, aren't I?"

Male voice: "And that's why I love you."

Love you, LOVE YOU? What the hell was going on?

Female voice: "Mmm, let's finish her up and get naked. I want to watch her movies and give my artist the praise he deserves for his newest creation."

This was too much and she began to scream and try to wriggle free. The coating was much too firm to even crack, but she had to try and escape.

They always did. Why couldn't they just accept their immortality gracefully?

The artist and his female accomplice filled her nostrils with putty and soon the lack of air made struggling impossible. Her body was bound but her brain was alive and well.

Her internal sensors told her she was tilted from upright and she was moving. They had her on a dolly.

They rolled her into a hidden room- a hidden room with three other "statues".

She was number four.