Warning: This story features bondage and non-consensual sexual content.
Synopsis: A museum employee becomes much more directly involved in an art exhibition than she intended.
1:00 am
“You should head home Becky. Get a few hours sleep before the everything kicks off tomorrow morning.”
“Are you sure Miss Stevens? I hate to think of you being here on your own. Apart from them I mean...”
“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine. Security are still out front if I really need them. You go on now!”
Becky was hesitant, but relented with an appreciative "Thanks”, gathering up her things. I waved her off towards the art museum’s front entrance, turned around and headed back.
I knew I ought to take my own advice soon. It had already been a long day readying everything for the chaos and excitement expected tomorrow. I couldn’t wait to cast off the tight pencil skirt, blouse and collared shirt I’d been wearing all day, ever since the previous morning.
The click-clack of my heels on the polished hardwood floor echoed through the large, empty, darkened halls. I entered the corridor leading to the museum’s east wing, passing under a banner hung up only a few hours earlier. It displayed a single stylised word, coloured dark-blue fading vertically to white: ‘BOUNKSY’
It was the graffiti signature of the infamous street-artist Bounksy, whose inventive constructions had become a massive phenomenon in both the art world and the mainstream. The biggest allure was that Bounksy’s identity was a complete mystery. The radical art installations were always set up secretly in public spaces under the cover of night. In a way, tonight was no different.
The east wing gallery was a large room with high ceilings. All the sculptures and art pieces that usually occupied the area had been stowed away earlier. I circumnavigated the new exhibits that replaced them, all of Bounksy's most famous works.
Most of the pieces were interactive, best exemplified by the first one that truly caught the public’s attention: ‘Justice For Some’, a 6-foot tall hard-clay sculpture of the city’s iconic courthouse building. Small mallets attached to the base’s perimeter by long chains allowed onlookers to cathartically smash away at the sculpture, progressively turning it into a ruined, battered version of the original. Only after hours of destruction was a smaller indestructible sculpture discovered hidden within it, depicting several recognisable megacorporation buildings, with the VondTec HQ being the most noteworthy.
Less than 24 hours ago, the museum owner Mr Lagrange informed me he'd received a verified message from Bounksy’s team with a once-in-a-lifetime offer. For a single day only, our museum could host a pay-to-view exhibition of the elusive artist’s works.
Lagrange was over the moon, mostly because of how lucrative and attention-drawing the exhibition would be. He’d already drawn up a new schedule with shorter visit durations and inflated prices to capitalise on the anticipated interest.
I was much less enthused. I personally felt Bounksy’s style relied too much on shock value and gimmicks, too sensational for our more classical, respectable venue. Especially given its more recent obscene tendencies.
The latest piece ‘Ménage à cinq’ had five naked people intimately entangled together atop the upper basin of the large fountain in Twinfield Park. Early reports all assumed they were passed-out partygoers following an all-night bender, until closer inspection revealed they were highly convincing anatomically-correct dummies. They bore striking resemblances to some of Bounksy’s biggest critics.
Nonetheless I was professional enough to set aside my personal feelings and do my job. As the museum floor manager, I was responsible for organising and overseeing the arrangement and running of the gallery. Which was what kept me still here so late at night.
I reached the farthest corner of the gallery. The space was dimly lit by LEDs and faint moonlight through the skylights high above.
There they were, three mysterious figures covered from head-to-toe by navy-blue hooded overalls and white face-masks, leaving only their eyes visible.
Members of Bounksy’s team.
I’d taken to calling them Big, Middle and Small in my head. Their height differences weren’t especially significant, but it was the only means I had to distinguish them. I wondered whether one may even be the actual Bounksy.
They had full access to the building’s back entrance and staff-only corridors so they could work without fear of being spotted by the public. They'd spent the entire night carting in and assembling all of the art installations. All without ever speaking a word, at least while I was around.
It looked like everything was nearly completed and in place at last. I was looking forward to wrapping up.
Big cleared his throat behind me. I stepped aside, letting him push a large cart by. Small followed, carrying a box filled with oddly shaped panels and strips and tools.
Big and Middle lifted a large object off of the cart together, placing it on the floor. It was a flat square about 3-feet long along each side and a few inches tall, and was quite heavy based on how they strained while lifting it. On top of the square was a hollow dark-blue mould of feet and shins.
“Are we nearly done here? I hope this one isn’t going to take too-- !!! Oww!”
Something pricked my neck. I rubbed the spot, feeling an odd warmth radiating from it. As I turned around, my head swam.
“What was thaaaaaa...”
The world turned sideways. I blacked out.
?:?? am
My consciousness faded in and out, like half-waking during a restless sleep. Fleeting sensations, blurred images, distorted snippets of speech...
Fabric slipping down off me... Chill of the air...
“Grab her at... hold... ”
Hands holding me up... Body lowering... My feet slipping inside something... Shoes? ... Something thin pinching in my thighs... Softness laid on top of it...
“... pull here... closer... ”
Arms gently tugged back... Sleeves?... Movement all around me... The colour blue...
A drilling sound close by... The soft touch pushes in, solidifies... Something hard against my legs... More things pressing against me higher up... A belt?
That noise gets louder and nearer... a mechanical whirring.... Tight hug at my chest... a corset? ... Shoulder pads? ... More firm pressure all over...
“... little more... keep still... tighten... ”
Very soft material pressed against my face... Darkness for a few seconds, then light again...
I fully passed out again.
9:05 am
“It reminds me a lot of... ”
“... you’d almost think it was really... “
𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯
“Mmhhh....”
I was roused by bright daylight, soft nearby voices and loud classical music. Everything felt oddly stiff. I blearily opened my eyes.
“To be honest, I don’t really get it.”
A pair of eyes was staring right at me, inches from my face.
“!!!”
My body jerked. A second jolt followed in quick succession as I realised I was upright and fought the impulse of falling. I'd instinctively tried to recoil backwards and yelp, but failed to actually manage either. It was like I was gripped by some sort of sleep paralysis.
The woman before me didn’t even flinch. She continued staring into my eyes, showing absolutely zero acknowledgement of my shock.
With my senses slowly coming into focus, I realised something was actively holding me still. This was coupled with many other bizarre sensations all over me, too many to make sense of in my delirious waking state.
The lady walked away, allowing me to see and recognise the room around me. The east wing gallery. I remember now! The exhibition. I was here late last night. Did I never leave?
A short distance ahead I recognised one of Bounksy’s pieces: ‘True reflection’, a large double-sided mirror that became transparent while touched at the same spot by two people on opposite sides. I’d been overseeing the setup of all these pieces. I couldn’t recall anything following that. Did I just fall asleep from exhaustion?
In the reflection of that distant mirror, I spotted a new Bounksy piece I’d never seen before.
It was a statue of some sort, almost entirely coloured a uniform matte royal-blue, the classic hue of Bounksy’s signature. It depicted a completely naked young woman with neat short hair. She had a pretty face in a neutral expression, made slightly uncanny by the eyes being entirely glass. She stood with legs together, arms behind her, her upper body leaning slightly forward, chin raised so that she looked straight ahead.
What really caught my attention though was the one body part not coloured blue: an impressive pair of ample perky breasts. They were a pale skin tone, a stark contrast to the surrounding darker colour. They looked incredibly real.
My brain took a few seconds to put the pieces together. The revelation hit me like a sledgehammer.
I was looking at my reflection. I was the statue.
The lingering haze of sleepiness evaporated. I became terribly aware of the solid structure surrounding my entire body, pressing in on me everywhere.
I leaned forwards, backwards, to either side. I twisted, strained, pushed. In every conceivable direction, I met immediate and total resistance. The person-shaped shell was perfectly sized and shaped to fit my body, leaving virtually no gaps anywhere I could find.
The inner surface was lined with soft padding. I might have found it comfortable if I wasn’t so alarmed at being utterly trapped. The rigid outer layer was made of some incredibly hard and inflexible material.
I freaked out. I shoved and shook, rocking about as hard as I could. Even if I tipped over, so be it. I wanted out.
Nothing. I couldn’t make it bend or shake. Not so much as a shudder. Everything from the head to toe was a single unmoving rock-solid piece, including the heavy base that the feet were attached to. Everything except me stuck inside it.
A vague memory came back to me. I recalled hearing machinery last night. Metalwork, or something like it. So this thing had literally been built around me. No wonder it was such an exact fit.
My mouth was stuffed with an enormous rubber ball, holding my mouth open inside the statue, unlike the closed relaxed mouth on the outside. The ball had an irregular shape, bulging at the sides to fill out to my cheeks. An elongated tube ending in a penis-head extended from the gag partway down my throat.
I tried yelling as loud as I possibly could, a real challenge with the uncomfortably invasive gag. I had to be careful to avoid gagging on the dick.
“Nnnnghh...Hhhhhmmm!!”
It was hopeless. Even my own ears could barely hear a thing. The loud classical music from a speaker above and the constant hum of an air conditioning vent nearby ensured that any slight noise I could muster was fully drowned out for everyone else.
“Hhhgnnngh!!”
I lashed out and wailed like a madwoman. Or attempted to, but externally remained as still and quiet as ever. The passersby remained completely oblivious.
My arms were held behind my back, the forearms overlapping and each wrist touching the opposing elbow, forming a box-tie. I felt the tight pinching squeeze of straps lashing the forearms together at several points, a cruel unnecessary addition since my arms were already held by the statue’s arms. I felt similarly tight straps around my legs within the statue’s closed legs.
I could see perfectly out of the glass eyes, but based on the non-reactions of observers, they were one-way mirrors. I could hear everything clearly as well, likely thanks to holes or a more permeable material at the ears.
I could breathe through my nostrils but it was laboured due to a few layers of soft cloth nestled around and over my nose. It felt different to the padding throughout the rest of the body, and it smelled foul. It reminded me of the stench when I had a full laundry baske... oh no... that was it...
I’d been stripped naked, but one piece of my clothing remained. Between my nose and the close-fitting head piece, someone had wedged in the sweaty pair of panties I’d been wearing all day yesterday. I scrunched my nose, trying very hard to make them shift and slip down. It was useless. The panties hugged my face, their pungent scent saturating every breath.
“MMMHHH!”
My breasts being left hanging open to the elements was so unnerving. I almost felt more vulnerable than if my entire naked body was on show. I tried wriggling my upper body to make someone notice the movement and realise my situation. It was so humiliating knowing that I was willingly shaking my boobs for attention. It didn’t work. The surrounding chest section was tight enough that I couldn’t achieve any noticeable motion.
There was one other spot besides my chest not covered up: My ass was fully laid bare.
The statue’s legs ended tucking under the cheeks, while from above it ended at the small of my back, leaving my smooth plump buttocks poking out for all to see. The slight lean of my pose no doubt helped them stick out prominently, much like it did my breasts.
I wailed, wishing I was still dreaming and could just wake up.
9:15 am
A pair of girls approached while I was still grappling with the terror of the situation. I couldn’t help but tense up as they stepped up close, entering my personal space. One stared into the eyes, while the other circled around taking it all in.
“Mmmmhhh!”
The girl at the front looked down and giggled nervously. “They look so real...” Her hand stretched out.
“Nnnnnn!!”
I couldn’t stop her. She couldn’t hear my protests. I could only watch the slight smile on her face, the shy biting of her lip, while below my line of sight, her fingers grazed my skin. Within the statue, I squirmed. Her palm followed, cupping the bottom of my right breast. At least she was being gentle.
From behind me, the other girl spoke. “They’re not the only thing babe. There’s a party in the back too~”
I jolted as another hand grabbed my asscheek from behind. She was very much not being gentle.
“Feels very real doesn’t it?”
“Mmmh!”
The girl behind groped my butt freely with both hands.
“Honey...” the front girl whispered with uncertainty “Are you sure that it's ok to be touching it like this?”
“Of course! I don’t see any barrier or anything, do you? Touching the exhibits is like Bounksy’s whole thing. Hey does this remind you of anything from last night...”
The front girl’s hand pulled back and was suddenly replaced by two more hands, each clasping a breast from either side. The back girl began squeezing and groping my boobs roughly from behind.
“Bouncy bouncy bouncy~”
The front girl had both her hands up her mouth, aghast and blushing. Her response was filled with mirth.
“Honey!! Stop that! You’re so bad~”
A giggle behind. “Awww jealous? It's not cheating if it’s a statue.”
The front girl playfully swatted at the hands feeling me up, and the two girls walked off tittering, hand-in-hand.
My heart was beating like crazy. I felt light-headed. Even with their hands so intimately all over me, they couldn’t tell I was in here. How could this happen to me? And why?
More visitors approached sporadically. Every time someone did, my pulse surged, as I never knew if I was about to be toyed with again.
The gallery had about the usual weekend-morning level of activity. As per the arrangement with Bounksy, the exhibition wasn’t announced publicly, in the spirit of the usual word-of-mouth discovery of new pieces. We knew it wasn’t needed. Word would spread very quickly. It was only going to get much much worse from here.
9:25 am
A familiar face walked up behind the small group examining me.
“E... Excuse me. The time slot is now ending. If you could begin making your way to the exit that would be much appreciated.”
The group began meandering off towards the corridor out of the gallery, chatting amongst themselves, leaving Becky behind watching them go.
“BHHMHHH!”
She didn’t turn around. She couldn’t hear me either. She didn’t know I was in here.
Seconds after the last visitor left, Lagrange marched into the room and hurried straight over to Becky, looking visibly irritated.
“Anything? Is she still not here?”
“I’m sorry Mr Lagrange. I tried calling Miss Stevens several times. She hasn’t answered.”
“Unbelievable! This is completely and utterly unacceptable! Today of all days.”
“I... I’m sure there’s a good reason. She wouldn’t just...”
“Bah! I very well know the reason. Nina thinks all this street art is just trash. But to abandon us without so much as a warning is the most disrespectful unprofessional behaviour I’ve ever encountered in my entire career. And to think, after today I was going to offer her the curator position she kept asking about. She can forget it now. I’m giving it to the external applicant.”
“NMMMH!!”
This was painful. That position was my dream job. They were standing so close, with no-one else around, and I still couldn’t make myself heard.
I hadn’t abandoned anyone. I’m right here!
Becky looked distraught while Lagrange was venting about my failure. He sighed and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“I know this is a lot to ask Becky, but could you fill in as floor manager for today? You did great during that first round. You’ve got the instructions they gave us. Just keep an eye on things and make sure the visitors don’t wreck anything... that they aren’t supposed to be wrecking anyway. And get them to move along when time’s up.”
Becky still seemed mildly upset, but she breathed out and straightened her back.
“I... I can do that.”
Becky was a sweet girl, lively and chatty in private but always so timid around larger groups of people. Stepping up was likely quite daunting for her. I’d have been very proud of her, if I wasn’t so distracted watching my career crumbling apart.
“Thank you Becky. You’re a lifesaver.”
Lagrange patted her shoulder and walked away. Becky surveyed the room with a sigh, her eyes lingering on me for a few seconds, before walking out towards the gallery exit, to fetch the next batch. I silently whimpered.
9:30 am
The room hummed with the influx of new visitors. They wandered around all the displays with curiosity and delight, but the one that easily commanded the most attention was the blue woman in the back. Being the only brand-new piece was intriguing enough, but its uncensored private parts generated plenty of interest.
“Come on, just look at them! See how they jiggle? They’ve gotta be the real thing.”
“So, what... you’re saying that’s an actual person in a suit or something? Yeah I don’t think so.”
“Sure why not. Hellooooo! Miss statue? .... Hello?”
“.....”
“.....”
“Told ya. You remember that naked orgy in the fountain thing that turned out to be dummies? That was Bounksy too. Apparently those bodies also looked super real.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“Yup. So this is the same thing. Some kind of brand-new synthetic skin material I guess. Really impressive stuff.”
“Neat!”
The casual conversation about how I probably wasn’t a human was soul-crushing. Variations of the same suspicions and ensuing conversation played out among the many comers-and-goers.
“What if it’s like the guards at whatsitcalled... Buckingham Palace! So she’s just not allowed to react no matter what.”
“Hmm. Well you can’t touch those guards. But here though... Let me try something.”
spank!
“... Any reaction?”
“Keep going. I’ll give the front a nice hard squeeze at the same time.”
spank! ... spank! spank! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
"How about that?”
“Nope. I was listening out but couldn't hear a thing. No way that someone’s staying that quiet and still through all of that.”
My pained muted yells subsided to distressed muted whimpers.
Every time someone voiced conviction that the exhibit must surely still contain a person, my heart fluttered with hope. But nearly every time they were convinced of the contrary by others, or at least swayed to reasonable doubt, with the fivesome dummies and my total inactivity as the usual clinching arguments.
The really devastating part was how often a new group came by who hadn’t been within earshot of the previous ‘test’ and its conclusions. They just had to discover it for themselves all over again.
“But do you really think someone would volunteer to be so brazenly exposed in public like this?”
“Hear me out. I have an idea that could solve this once and for all. I just have to...”
SPANK! SPANK! SPANK!
“MMMPH!”
10:00 am
The third time slot was when the venue starting properly ramping up into a frenzy. It was enough time for the first visitors to post the exciting news online and for others to make the trip out to the museum. A rare chance to see genuine Bounksys up close was too good an opportunity to miss. I’d never seen it so busy in my years working here.
Word about me had spread as well. A large portion of the crowd blew right past everything else, beelining for the back area to see the mysterious naked blue woman.
Debate about a possible participant occupying the statue quickly died off. Enough of the announcing posts online described the new art piece as simply a ‘statue’ that it was becoming an implied and accepted fact that there was no real person involved.
With each new batch there was initial hesitance to touch me, under the gaze of so many potentially-judgemental others. But once a single daring visitor stepped forward to cop a feel, the floodgates opened and swathes of others followed.
Soon I’d be groped by multiple people simultaneously. I’d sometimes have up to 6 hands on me at once, maybe even more but it became too hard to tell beyond that point.
They were relentless. Squeezing, stroking, lifting, pulling, pinching, flicking, twisting, slapping. As soon as my front or back was vacated, another ready and waiting person jumped in for their turn.
One young man leaned in and wrapped his mouth around my right nipple, kissing and gently nibbling on it, earning some chuckles from the crowd, and earning even more when his girlfriend pulled him away chastising him.
I was in sensory overload from the constant stimulation. My skin became tender and sensitive. I could never anticipate the touches, leaving me constantly on edge, unable to relax or maintain focus.
I was getting rather warm and sweaty from what all the groping was doing to me. My increased heartrate had me breathing deeply, intensifying the acrid scent of the moist panties clogging my nostrils.
My unheard moaning was the one and only method of venting frustration that I had. I did plenty of it. Initially I bit down on the rubbery gag as well, but this had an added effect.
Whenever the gag was compressed, liquid squeezed out, pouring out of the phallic protrusion’s tip and dribbling down my throat. It was thick and rather sweet, leaving an aftertaste of strawberry. While it provided a small bit of hydration, it wasn’t the easiest to swallow. I tried to avoid triggering it too much, but the extracting bites weren’t always voluntary on my part.
“Wow! They’re so big and squishy~”
“Hmmmhhh!” gulp
11:00 am
Aside from all the shocked and suggestive and mocking remarks, there was also the art enthusiasts engaging in contemplation and spirited discussion about the exhibit’s intended symbolism.
“The question I put to you is why are the chest and posterior the only realistic looking parts of her anatomy? I’ll tell you why. It's a commentary on how women are so often reduced to little more than their most titillating sexually-arousing body parts. It’s genius.”
“I posit that it's shining a light on the oversexualisation prevalent in the modern world. Everything is sex. It’s saying ‘This is all you really care about, so here it is’. Quite the bold statement.”
“See how the eyes reflect your own eyes. You can literally see yourself in her. It means that underneath everything else, this is how vulnerable we all really are. I think it might be my favourite Bounksy yet.”
“The human body is natural and beautiful and we shouldn’t be so adamantly hiding it away like it's something to be ashamed of. This is a small step towards destigmatising nudity.”
“Just as The Vitruvian Man was Da Vinci's version of the ideal male form, this is Bounksy's interpretation of the ideal female form. And I must say, he’s done an exemplary job. Such a wonderfully exquisite bust and derrière~”
In the absence of a title for the art piece, the name ‘The Vitruvian Woman’ gained some popularity. People took to dubbing the woman ‘Vitruvia’ and eventually just ‘Vita’.
“She's in a rather submissive pose don’t you think? The hands behind the back. Presenting her body, like she’s begging to be touched.”
“What? It's the exact opposite. She’s so confident in her own skin, even while naked. The lean forward is all ‘Like what you see?’”
“Her arms are together though like they’re tied up. She’s sorta looking up, asking for permission.”
“Projection much? She’s looking straight on. The body language is cool, calm and in control. She’s a total dominatrix.”
Guests argued back and forth about whether Vita was a dom or a sub. It reminded me of debates over whether the Mona Lisa was smiling or frowning, different people seeing different meanings in the same thing. This was the kinky equivalent.
If only they knew the truth of my plight, the museum employee naked, bound, gagged and trapped inside, propped up to be toyed with. The debate would be settled in a second. There was no question in my mind that this art piece was about submission, through and through. How I wished I could contribute my own unique perspective to the discourse.
Or at least that was my initial stance. As time went on, a new train of thought occurred. I started to imagine ‘Vita’ as not being me, but the statue itself, a distinct entity. Another woman. She was the one holding me utterly captive inside her, so in some sense, she was the ultimate dominant.
SPANK!
“Mmgghh!!”
My speculation was interrupted by someone harshly smacking my ass to make a point about Vita’s submissiveness.
“You know, if she’s meant to be someone’s slave, I guess you could call this artwork a masterpiece~ ..... Get it? A master piece. Cause she’s a slave.”
“This is why I don’t take you anywhere.”
12:00 pm
A few hours in, I started tasting the sweetness of the gag’s juice even when I wasn’t actively swallowing it down. Soon after that, I felt something new.
A heat grew deep in my chest and between my legs. I became so agitated and restless, desperate to be able to move, even worse than before. My skin became so sensitive all over, with the soft touch of the statue’s insides becoming both pleasant and an agonising tickle. Nowhere tingled worse than my breasts, butt and crotch, all parts that I couldn't rub against anything on my own.
When someone did touch me again, even just a light contact sent a jolt through me. It was like an itch being scratched. I shuddered and groaned, longing for them to rub me more. When they stepped away, I pushed in their direction whining.
I understood now. That juice was an aphrodisiac. A slow-burner but a powerful one.
I tried to stop sucking even more down, but the grabs and smacks kept startling me. It was hard not to accidentally bite on it and choke some down, and my ability to concentrate was eroding. Every touch was like a spark of electricity, sending jitters of excitement through me.
“MMPH!!”
“No no no, you can’t just go straight at them with a vice-grip like that. Watch, I’ll show you how it’s done. You start real light, just like this... Soft strokes... Circle your finger around it, teasing... Then a gentle squeeze... Massage them tenderly... then gradually more firmly... The more she moans and squirms, the rougher you can get... But keep the escalation nice and slow. Or even pull back sometimes. Make her want more. Make her beg for it.”
“Mmmhmhhhmhh~”
Inside the statue, my chest jackhammered, my mind frazzled and my self-control dissolved. I could barely even feel the hands any more, only the effect they had on me. Moisture dribbled copiously down my legs.
1:10 pm
When enough time passed without a new batch of visitors being ushered in, I knew it was lunchtime. Finally, an hour of rest. The shorter 30-minute visit duration was brutal, since aside from letting even more people see and toy with me, it meant less time for them to have their fill, get bored, and give me a break.
I was a hot, sweaty mess. Despite how much the aphrodisiac enhanced my sensitivity and the continued assault on my parts, I hadn’t orgasmed. Stimulation of my breasts and butt simply wasn’t enough, but it was certainly enough to tease me to breaking point. I badly wanted relief, and there was nothing I could do about it.
I heard a scraping sound from off to the side, getting closer. A woman sidestepped into my view, dragging an object about half her height along the ground. Becky! She arranged the object with her back to me.
“BHHHHMMMHHH!!!”
I ignored the fresh spurts of gag aphrodisiac as I yelled for attention. This was probably the quietest moment I was going to get, my best and maybe only opportunity for rescue.
“Phew! Ok and then find the switch behind the... there it is. On!”
“BHHHMMHH! HHHMMHH!”
She stood up and turned around.
“BHHH---”
I stopped short on seeing something in her hand. She held a shiny silver cylinder, 7 inches long. My fears about its purpose skyrocketed as she knelt down in front of me. I heard the shuffling of paper.
“Let’s see here... Step one, I have to find the small circular panel between the legs... is this it? Grip and twist... ah there we are. Set the cap aside. And now insert the battery, or whatever this thing is.”
There was still a soft thin layer resting against my womanhood. I realised it was not a fully continuous surface, but rather two flaps, when a hard object pushed up through them.
“... insert it upwards. Keep pushing through the resistance. Nngh! That’s sure resistant alright. Get... up... there...”
“Nnnhh! Bhhmhhh dhhh!! Mmhh--- MMMMMGGHHH!!!”
“There it goes. And finally put the covering back. Hmm... come on battery get up just a little further... hup! And cap back on. Nice. Perfectly flush.”
“Mmphhh...”
I could only manage a meek whimper as Becky stood back up. She gave a satisfied nod and left my sight. While I was squirming and coming to terms with my new filling companion, I saw the larger object Becky had been setting up beforehand.
Standing 3 metres away from me was a waist-high pedestal. The slanted slab on top had a large red circular button with black block-capital letters printed on it.
DO NOT
PRESS
I had terrible suspicions about what it might do. My brief optimism for a quiet lunchtime to relax and recover was replaced by renewed despair and stress over what was coming next.
2:00 pm
The post-lunchtime crowd practically sprinted inside. Excitement for the event had reached fever-pitch. I suspected Lagrange had even relaxed the maximum occupancy limit.
From the throng headed my way, a few peeled off, drawn to the mysterious pedestal. I tried to peer past the visitors currently groping me to see what these button-viewers were doing. One handsy girl kept obnoxiously blocking my view.
“No it says don’t!”
“Yeah but come on. Why else would it be here?”
“I bet it’s gonna set off an alarm. And put a spotlight on you. And announce over the speakers to everyone what you did.”
“Suuure it will. ... Wait, do you really you think it might?”
“Do it!”
“Why don’t you do it?”
“Chicken! Bawk bawk bawk!”
I willed the strangers to not press it, mentally begging them. It took less than a minute before someone did.
vvvvvv!
“HHHGMMH!”
The effect was immediate. My worst suspicions were confirmed. The buzzing object stuffed deep inside me shook for 2 seconds before stopping. I shouldn’t have been so surprised by it, but it was so much stronger than I expected.
“.... Did that actually do anything?”
“Doesn’t seem like it.”
“Let me try!”
vvvvvvvvvvv!
“Mmmghhh!!”
The intruder shook like mad. I stiffened and groaned. The bottom end of the barely-fitting cylinder was lodged against a thick sound-absorbing spot of padding in the statue. The vibrations ran through the hard encasing, diffusing across my pelvis.
The statue-fondlers didn’t notice, cheerfully carrying on with their exploration of my tender parts. The sexual frustration that had calmed down during the lunch hour was rushing back fast.
The button experimenters moved on quicker than the statue experimenters did, leaving with either amusement or annoyance at the non-responsiveness of the pressed button. Many, many people tried it out.
tap... tap... tap... tap...
vvv... vvv... vvv... vvv...
Every moment that it was down, my ‘battery’ was activate. The complete unpredictability of when it would start and when it would stop was driving me crazy.
I should have been careful what I wished for. The vibrating added to the groping was more than enough to take me to the edge. As the button activated again, I clenched up and waited to be swept away.
vvvv-- “Mmph?”
No good. It kept stopping too soon. Nobody was pressing the button long enough, only a few seconds at most. The brief intermittent vibrations were agony. Drip-feeding me pleasure then yanking it away before I could actually enjoy it. I thought the fondling was bad enough, but this addition was torturous.
I made a decision. One that I felt ashamed about making, but I couldn’t go on like this. I took a deep panty-filtered breath, then bit down on the rubbery gag as hard as I could. I felt the tube poke deeper down my throat but I endured it. I needed help to finally cum, and I was willing to consensually swallow more aphrodisiac to help make it happen.
drip... drip... .....
A tiny trickle. Then nothing. It had all dried up. The gag’s load had run out. I suckled on the cock desperately.
I was denied even that small freedom of choice. The sporadic bouts of button-driven vibrations continued teasing and halting, never delivering, all out of my control.
vvv!
“Mgh! ... Mhhhhhmm!”
Even after the first afternoon crowd had all left, I was still writhing in my body-shaped cage, unbearably horny, a stronger craving for satisfaction than I’d ever known. Whether I would eventually get any would be up to the curiosity of the unaware public.
6:00 pm
The afternoon devolved into a hazy stupor. I regularly dissociated, losing awareness of everything but the touch on my skin and the shaking inside me. I felt like a sex toy, existing only for the enjoyment of others.
I eventually lost count of the number of rounds of visitors. Knowing the time would have helped immensely, but with no clock in view I had no idea how long my predicament would continue. I kept hoping the departing crowd was the final one, facing heavy disappointment when a new batch arrived. Each round felt longer than the last.
I was starting to wonder whether I was trapped in some nightmarish limbo that would never end, when Becky returned alone. No gaggle of people following her. At last! It was over! Closing time.
Lagrange entered the gallery and strolled over to her.
“Well Becky I daresay that today has been quite the success.”
“Yes Mr Lagrange it has indeed! It’s been a very long day, but I’m glad we’ve reached the end.”
“Well, ahem, about that... there’s actually something important I need to ask you.”
Huh?
“Oh? What is it?”
“Well, I’ve just come from the front atrium and the queue out there is still huge! It's stretching all the way out of the front door and then some. Their energy is infectious.”
No... don’t...
“Errr... what exactly is it you’re asking?”
“They’re so eager to see the exhibition. Wouldn’t it be a shame to disappoint so many people?”
“I suppose it would...”
Don’t... don’t you dare...
“I know we have our usual hours, but if we made an exception tonight would you be willing to do some overtime?”
“Oh. I don’t know...”
You greedy asshole! Say no Becky! He can’t make you!
“I’ll pay you double... no, triple-rate! Please Becky, I’m depending on you.”
“Well... alright. I suppose I can.”
Noooo!!!
“Fantastic! I’ll let the front desk and security know we’ll be extending opening hours for another two hou... another two and a half hours.”
Lagrange left smiling, Becky sighed wearily, and I sobbed.
8:40 pm
𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯 𝅘𝅥𝅮𝅘𝅥𝅯𝅘𝅥𝅯 click ....
I didn’t even realise the final wave had left until the speaker playing loud classical music switched off. The room was empty and quiet. I was semi-delirious, stiff and clammy. I probably could have fallen asleep, even standing up. I likely would have already if it weren’t for the hands and button giving me no peace.
click-clack
Footsteps approached. I opened my heavy eyelids to see Becky standing very close, looking into my eyes.
“Guess it’s just you and me now.”
“Mmmh?” Something in her unusually serious tone woke me up. I was alert now.
“sigh. Don’t judge me too harshly, but I have a terrible confession to make.”
What was she talking about?
She took a few paces back and forth then turned to face me.
“I... I think I’m in love with my boss. With Miss S... With Nina.”
...What?!
“You’re the only one I can tell Vita. I know you’ll keep my secret after all. I suppose it really started back when I was hired...”
As Becky began pouring out her soul to the ‘statue’, she took a seat.
On top of the pedestal behind her.
On top of the button.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv!
“MMMMPH!!”
“... She’s always been so kind and inspiring. My self-confidence has improved so much from working closely with her. I could never have done what I did today back when I started here, I can tell you that...”
With Becky’s butt flat on the button, the vibrator was running nonstop. The extra push I’d been internally begging for most of the day was coming, but much more than asked for.
“... I feel so bad about today. Should I have refused to take over this morning? Do you think she’d hate me for it Vita? I really hope not...”
I moaned and strained against the statue, biting on the gag, my hips quivering.
“... I keep replaying last night in my head. What if I’d stayed? Maybe I’d have said just the right thing and convinced her to come in today...”
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv!
I... I’m cumming....
“... after those three left, it’d have just been the two of us. All alone. At night. Together. Who knows, we might have ended up...”
“MMMMMMHHHH!!!~~~”
The pleasurable buzz in my midsection erupted and rippled out throughout my entire body. Hours worth of edging translated into the biggest orgasm of my life, carrying on for what felt like minutes. For a while I couldn’t hear a thing Becky was saying.
“MMmmmmh.....”
“... pretty easy on the eyes, if I’m being honest. Seriously Vita, looking at your rack all day just kept reminding me of her. Jeez, imagine if she heard me saying these things...”
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv!
Even as the ecstasy abated, Becky remained seated on the pedestal for her lengthy confession, keeping the vibrations running. Keeping me in a state of heightened arousal. I wasn’t finished yet.
“... such a cute backside! You wouldn’t believe how often I’ve fantasised about bending her over a desk and just going to town on it. When she was walking away last night after we said goodnight, I literally stared at her butt the whole way. That image may have... fuelled certain activity later on...”
I couldn’t spare a moment to be embarrassed about what I was hearing. Another swell deep within me. I tried to resist.... I hadn’t a hope. It crested...
“MMMGHHH!!!”
Another explosive orgasm rocked my body. It was hard to believe that my carnal moans still couldn’t be heard, buy Becky carried on without pause.
vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv!
“... Should I go to her apartment and make sure she’s okay? Maybe she doesn’t want anything to do with this place or me anymore. But then it might be my last chance to tell her how I really feel...”
“MmmghghhgHHHMH!”
A wave of bliss would wash over me, recede, then build right back up. I endured multiple orgasms, driven by Becky’s oblivious choice of sitting position.
Finally, after she’d gotten everything off her chest, and I’d been wracked with pleasure many many times over, she stood up.
vvvvv....
“Mmhhh.... hhh......”
“Thanks for hearing me out Vita. Even if no-one else got anything meaningful from you today, other than feeling you up obviously, you really helped me out. I’m gonna go tell Nina everything.”
She walked right up to me, her face filling my vision. She closed her eyes and gently kissed the statue’s lips.
“B... Bhhhmhh.....”
She leaned away. I was so broken down. My voice was too weak. I couldn’t let her leave now. I needed her. I was here, not somewhere out there.
She paused.
“You know I never got the chance to have a feel for myself. Maybe if I’m lucky, I’ll be feeling up a certain someone else’s butt tonight~. But right now...”
She leaned in again. Her forehead rested against the statue’s, as she reached behind it and gently held and stroked my buttcheek.
“Bhh.... Bhhhmhh!”
Her eyes flew wide open. She stood up straight, looking all around behind her.
Not there! Here!
She slowly turned back, looking into the eyes. She moved in, resting her ear against the statue’s mouth.
“B.... BHHMHH! Hmmh!!”
“What?! Is.... is someone in there?!!”
“Hmmmhhh!”
“But who could be...? Wait... N... N... Nina?!”
“Mhh!” I could have cried from relief.
“Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod... H... hold on. I’ll help... How do I get it off...”
Becky’s shaky fingers probed the solid body, hoping for some hidden latch or panel to unlock everything. She tried to squeeze her fingers under the edges of the breast and butt openings, failing to find any way in.
“I can’t... I’ll go get help. J... Just wait here! I’ll be back soon! I’m so sorry Nina.”
Becky leaving me alone scared me, but I knew she was right. I tried my best to calm myself as she dashed out of the gallery to fetch help. Finally, I’d been found. Even as the room became empty again, I finally felt like I wasn’t on my own.
9:00 pm
“Let’s get her out.”
I’d fallen asleep without meaning to, only realising it when a feminine voice woke me up. Becky must have found someone.
I opened my eyes to see a white facemask and blue overalls.
“Mmmgh?!”
The statue’s glass eye-pieces had been removed, but everything else trapping me was still in place. The Bounksy team member heard my cry and looked over, surprised to realise I had awoken. It was Small.
Those eyelashes... that vocal tone... Small was a woman! She saw the shock in my eyes and realised I’d heard her voice. Her eyes crinkled, and I could tell she was smiling under the facemask.
“Figured it out? It’s funny isn’t it. All the wild theories about who I really am, and no-one even considers that I might be a woman, not a man.”
Terror crashed over me. She snapped her fingers, and I tilted backwards. Big and Middle were lifting up the statue, the base and me included.
“Mmmhh? MMMMPH!!”
With the statue’s eyes removed, my gagged yells gained a modicum of volume.
“Relax. You’ll be let out eventually. But I make street-art after all. And you’re my magnum opus. You deserve to be displayed on the street. I’m actually thinking about adjusting your pose a bit, leaning even farther over~”
I was loaded onto a large cart, which Big began pushing. Bounksy walked alongside us.
“I wonder, did people follow my instruction to not press the button? Or did they give in to their baser urges? Could they not keep their hands off you? Because the name of this piece if you were curious, is ‘Restraint’.”
“Mmmhhh!”
I was wheeled through the gallery I had been staring out at all day. We approached an open “Staff-Only” door leading into the darkness of the back rooms.
As we neared the door, I could see down the corridor exiting the east wing, leading back to the main block. And at the very far end of that corridor, talking fretfully on her phone, was Becky.
“BHHHHMMHHHHH!”
She was too far to hear. She was facing the wrong way. She just had to look sideways.
Just look down the corridor Becky. See me. See them. Save me! Please just turn, before it’s too late!!
“HMMMMMPPPHHHH!”
We passed through the door unseen.
1:00 am
“I’m serious. They said it had huge tits, like out to here!”
“They were pulling your leg dude. No way a museum has something like that. Speaking of tits though, that dancer was smokin’!”
“You know she wasn’t really into you right? That’s like stripclubs 101.”
“Ahhh you’re just jealous. She said I'm not like all the other guys. Did leave me with a bad case of blue-balls though. I’m in serious need of some action. Where to next? The Velvet Cord maybe?”
“Hang on... do you see that blue thing up ahead? Is it my imagination, or does it look like a chick?”
“Whoa that’s totally what it is. A hot one too! Gotta check this out.”
“It's just like the museum thing. See, told you it was real!”
“Damn, that is one sweet ass. Oh man it’s just like the real thing. Like really really like the real thing. Feels all nice and soft...”
“Eh? Did you hear that? Sounded like a weird distant muffled yell.”
“Nope, didn't hear anything. Hmm~”
“Uhhh what are you... Are you seriously about to do what I think you’re about to do?”
“Just keep a lookout.”
zzzzip