The Plume: The Second Anthology (14 page)

He crouched down to eye level, readily
imagining which of his images should be visible on the opposite
wall from this angle. “So, they can choose to wander through the
groups.”

“Um hmm. Or not.” Louise had folded her arms
across her chest and was watching Rex closely, as if waiting for
him to get a joke.

He looked at the model again. “You, uh,
amended the male dolls.”

She wrinkled her nose in laughter. “Poor
things are made like eunuchs. Now their smiles make more sense -
they’re finally having some fun.”

Rex laughed despite himself, then he looked
more closely at the Tess and Tex couple. In the model, they were a
threesome. The bound slave being taken from behind was also being
eaten by a female guard on her knees in front of the captive. He
looked back, but that kneeled figure was missing. “This one’s
missing. Is that because you’re not done?”

“Well, I’m not done, but that’s not why.”
Louise touched the figure. “See? She has a red dot on her back.
That means she’ll be a real volunteer.”

A live model, pretending to be a sculpture. A
tide of heat rushed through Rex. He scanned the maquette, only now
seeing the array of red dots. “There are a dozen of them!” He
turned and surveyed the sculptures, excited by the idea of walking
through them, unaware that some were not just alive but
unbound.

“There were so many volunteers that I could
have had a hundred. Seems I found the fantasy of everyone in the
Plume.”

“So, will they move at any point?”

“Small movements, just to fuck with people’s
minds.” She grinned and he knew she loved that detail. “At
midnight, the party’s over and they get to do whatever they
want.”

Rex was awed. He could imagine it so well. He
spun to study the maquette again, and pointed at another figure.
“The green dot means the figure is a sculpture.” Louise nodded.
“What about the yellow one?”

“Special volunteers,” she said, beckoning to
him.

There was more?

Along the back wall of the studio were what
appeared to be finished figures. These castings were halves,
though, with neat seams where the parts joined. Beside each one was
a pile of gear that would adorn the assembled casting.

The first was that of a man. The plaster had
been painted to resemble skin and hair had been added, but there
were openings for the model’s cock and his eyes. The next one, for
a woman, had gaps for eyes, puss and nipples.

No. Rex looked at Louise, unable to believe
his guess.

Louise nodded. “I seal these volunteers into
their own castings on the day of the show. They’re captive, locked
into a pose, again until midnight. I wanted the smell of wet puss
in the gallery, and the sight of gleaming snatch. I wanted to see
erections change and nipples bead.”

“Jesus,” Rex said under his breath. “And at
midnight?”

“The gallery really becomes the Plume.”

“But you can’t do this every day of the
exhibit.”

“No, only for opening night. The live models
will be replaced by sculptures with creepy eyes after that first
party and so will the encased models.” She picked up a plastic
container and peeled off the lid, displaying a wide array of
eyeballs to him. “They’re glass. Hand-painted from the inside to
look like real irises. Aren’t they amazing?”

“They’re spooky.”

She laughed again. “Come on. Isn’t it going
to be awesome?”

“Yes,” Rex agreed easily. He was starting to
see how he should arrange his photographs to complement her
sculpture, and which ones should be enlarged for effect. He might
have hurried away, but Louise put a hand on his arm.

“One more thing to show you,” she said just
as someone moaned.

Rex looked around, but couldn’t figure out
where the sound had come from. “Are you making a soundtrack for the
show?”

Louise smiled. “Not quite.” This time, she
claimed his hand, locking her fingers with his. Rex felt strangely
complicit with her and caught up in her excitement about the show -
and the party. He followed her into the part of the studio to the
place she’d been using plaster when he came in. There were tables
and skids there, covered with tarps and dollops of plaster. At
first, he thought they were all casts in the process of being
finished, but Louise led him to one of a woman that was a bit
darker in color.

The plaster was still wet.

Rex dropped Louise’s hand and stepped
forward. It was a cast of a woman. She was on her back, the soles
of her feet pressed together and her knees spread wide. The palms
of her hands were pressed together over her head and there was a
brace below her back so that she was arched high. He knew the pose
- it was one that slaves took when they were secured to big serving
platters, adorned with food and presented to the patrons of the
Plume as dessert. There was one of those platters in the maquette
and he loved that it was being included in the show.

The platters had been his idea in the first
place.

But the plaster was darker because it was
wet. Rex looked at the model’s face. She blinked and he was
startled. She moaned and he was electrified. “There’s someone in
there!” he whispered, unable to avert his gaze.

A live person, encased in plaster and holding
a pose.

Exposed and helpless. His cock strained
against his jeans.

Louise nodded. “That’s how I make the casts.
Is it setting yet?” she asked the model, touching the plaster with
a fingertip. The woman moaned once more. There was a slight
vibration, as if she struggled inside the casing of plaster.

“Don’t move!” Louise commanded.

When the model stilled, Louise turned to Rex.
“The model puts on a nylon body stocking. I pose him or her, then
wrap lengths of cloth soaked in plaster around the body.” She
nudged a bucket under the table, one that was filled with dry
canvas strips. “Ideally, three or four layers. Enough to make the
cast but not enough to obstruct the shape. After the plaster sets,
I cut the model free.” She pointed, running a fingertip beside the
posed woman and pointing out the line. “I leave seams.”

Rex bent to look, seeing now that the casting
would be easily split in half.

“Then I can sand and paint the casting. See,
there are little braces in her nostrils to ensure that she can
breathe.” The model’s face was partly covered, her mouth lost
beneath the plaster. “I don’t go close to the eyes and I put these
soft plastic guards over their genitals. The plaster gets hot as it
dries and I don’t want anyone to get burns.”

That was why Rex could smell the model’s
perspiration.

“But her mouth?”

Louise smiled. “A nylon stocking over her
head, then some tape to keep the plaster away from her skin. Some
of them really like to be silenced.” She ran an admiring fingertip
over the plaster. “And I wanted this one’s sweet mouth immortalized
for all time.”

Rex’s cock was throbbing. Silent, captive,
yet complicit. The subject hadn’t just volunteered, but couldn’t
move or the casting wouldn’t set properly. It was so ingenious that
he wished he’d become a sculptor instead of a photographer.

Was she enjoying it as much as he was? Rex
leaned closer to look at her face. Her pupils were dilated and she
was breathing quickly. She was Asian and looked familiar. “Anna?”
Rex asked, recognizing one of the Plume members who tended to
volunteer for the Dungeon. She blinked twice, apparently agreeing
with him. He turned to Louise. “But she’s always a guard. Isn’t
this captivity?”

“Dom vs. submissive,” Louise agreed easily.
“Well, it turns out that some of us have fantasies of the other
role. Anna wanted to try a switch, just for today.” She touched the
plaster with care, then removed a plastic brace that had been put
over Anna’s puss. Rex could smell her heat through the nylon of the
body stocking and he could see that she was wet.

She was loving this.

He was pretty enamored of it himself. The
possibilities thrilled him.

“Don’t move,” Louise instructed Anna, then
carefully cut an oblong hole in the nylon to leave Anna’s
glistening sex exposed. Rex’s heart pounded in anticipation. Anna
moaned again, maybe anticipating what Louise was going to do.

“The thing is that they all volunteer to
pose,” she said softly, “but they often get another surprise once
they’re in my power.” She moved so that Anna could see her, and
opened a jar of strawberry jam. Anna blinked rapidly, evidently
agitated. She watched avidly as Louise dropped walnuts into the jar
and stirred. “They all know that they can move and break free, but
they also know that will mean that we just have to do it all over
again.”

Rex was transfixed. It was a whole new kind
of bondage, one that required the cooperation of the captive. He
could imagine having a slave encased like this, commanding him or
her to remain still, then tormenting both of them. Hell, he could
imagine having a whole studio full of captive slaves like this. He
looked back at the maquette, appreciating how powerful the show
would be.

“How long does the plaster take to set?” he
asked and his voice was husky.

“About fifteen minutes to be quite firm. I
like to leave it an hour to be sure, which gives us forty-five
minutes to play.” She dug out a spoonful of jam, laden with walnut
halves, and smeared it across Anna’s puss. Rex saw Anna shudder.
Then Louise put the jam aside, using her fingers to spread the
mixture over Anna’s labia. She smiled as Anna let loose a long low
moan, one that came from deeper within her than the previous ones,
and Rex knew she was working those walnuts halves against Anna’s
clitoris.

Rex couldn’t blink. He couldn’t look away. He
certainly couldn’t leave the studio. In fact, he thought he’d come
in his pants. Anna was flushing and he sensed that she was
quivering in her plaster shell, fighting the urge to break free.
Rex wanted to bang her more than he’d wanted to claim anyone in a
while, but he looked up to find Louise watching him with a
smile.

She was manipulating him. Again.

He wasn’t going to play.

Louise gestured to Anna’s embellished snatch.
“You like strawberry jam?”

Rex shook his head. “More of a whipping cream
fan.”

Louise feigned a pout. “And here I was making
you a present. My mistake. I should have asked first.” She surveyed
the confection she’d created, then unbuckled her overalls and let
them drop to the floor. “On the other hand, I love strawberry jam,”
she whispered.

Rex saw how Anna shivered with subtle
vigor.

Then Louise knelt on the table, her smile
hungry. She bent over her model, braced her hands against the
table, and began to lick the strawberry jam away with the very tip
of her tongue. Anna groaned, trembling as she was teased. Rex
couldn’t stop watching the flick of Louise’s pink tongue,
delicately driving Anna crazy. He could almost feel the heat
emanating from the plaster, redoubled by Anna’s desire. His hands
clenched into fists as he fought against his urge to join in.

A present for him.

Finally, Louise closed her mouth over Anna
and Rex knew she had to be working those walnut halves with her
tongue, driving them against Anna’s hard clit.

Rex stared and quivered himself. His body was
humming and his blood was pumping. He
wanted
. But instead he
watched Anna, the tough guard who loved to punish naughty slaves,
being eaten alive by Louise.

He remembered Anna eating Joanna, spanking
Joanna, locking Joanna down just for him, putting the vibrator on
Joanna so that she would be hot and wet when he arrived at the
Dungeon. He thought of Louise, dressed as a Christmas elf from the
Plume, bound in red ribbon and captive in his apartment.

Anna as dom; Louise as submissive. Those were
the roles they played.

But this was the other way around, and the
switch excited him more than he would have believed possible. He
looked at Louise’s bare feet and her wiggling toes, the ripe curve
of her ass and the smell of her hot sex, and thought again of the
provocativeness of her concept for the show.

She was provocative.

She was provoking him. It was working all too
well.

Rex wanted to tie Louise down and punish her
for that, wanted it so intensely that he had to clench his fists to
stop himself. She was trying to make him participate, he knew it,
and he hated how well her ploy was working.

He should have left, but Rex couldn’t do
it.

He was transfixed.

Louise arched her back and moaned, pushing
her butt into the air as she went down deeper on Anna. The sway of
her ass tempted him, the glimpse he had of her own wet and hungry
puss made his objections seem irrelevant. Anna shuddered and
groaned more loudly, the studio filling with the sweet mingled
scents of warm jam and hot snatch.

That was when Rex knew he wasn’t done with
his Christmas present just yet.

* * *

Louise sensed the change when she had snared
Rex’s attention again. There had been a crackle of tension before,
one that grew, but suddenly the air in the studio sizzled.

Like it had been touched to an electrical
wire.

Or something had broken free.

She’d gotten under Rex’s skin, finally.

Louise had been waiting for him to show up in
the studio, hoping for his appearance like a schoolgirl with a
crush. Just this morning, she’d started to wonder whether he would
ever come near her again.

When he walked into the studio, she just
about had heart failure. He was damn near perfect, as gorgeous and
determined as she remembered, tall and broad and as black as ebony.
He shaved his head so it gleamed and preferred to wear tight jeans,
boots and T-shirts that could have been his second skin. Not only
was he gorgeous, but he was smart. He was observant. He had a
wicked smile. He had the clearest green eyes she’d ever seen.