Window Display Ch. 03

[Author's note: Carine, desperate to keep her modelling career afloat, has taken a very unusual job. She's agreed to become a suspended-animation living mannequin in a high-end fashion boutique. Carine wanted the exposure and the fame... but something has gone wrong. Instead of six months passing in the blink of an eye and finding herself famous, she's frozen in whatever position and clothing she's been posed, able to see and hear everything, trapped on display]

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The crowd began to gather as soon as the mall opened. Carine stared out through the huge display window of Walker Terrin's boutique, fixed to the spot, unable to move. She tried again to lift even a finger, to blink, tiny motions that were second nature, but now impossible thanks to the malfunctioning device embedded in the back of her neck.

The suspended animation field was meant to turn her into a mannequin for Walker to display her latest collection. Six months in the blink of an eye, and then Carine would step out of her spot in the window to brand-new modelling contracts, to fame, to half a year's wages. She would go on talk shows as the first person to rent themselves out as a display mannequin. Everyone would want a piece of her.

Instead, she was panicking, though it would be impossible for anyone to tell. There was no flush to her cheeks, no wild-eyed dread, no fluttering chest, no pounding heartbeat. The little square in her neck had frozen her body completely but somehow she was still aware: she was trapped.

The contract was for six months; half a year until Walker touched the little square on the back of her neck and released her. Six months of this? She was only twenty minutes in.

A lovely young woman giggled, saying something to her friend on the other side of the glass. Carine could only stare at her own reflection, seeing a beautiful girl in a Walker Terrin cocktail dress smiling out from her position in the window display. The women pointed, and Carine felt their eyes on her body.

The crowd parted slightly, and Carine locked onto a familiar face: Telia, her best friend. Telia would look close enough. She would see that Carine was still conscious and trapped. Telia would rescue her. Carine's heart would have skipped a beat if it hadn't been frozen too.

Telia came right up to the glass, her eyes wide, incredulous. Yes, close enough. Surely? Carine watched with despair as her best friend brought her phone up to the window and took a picture. No. Wait. Telia gave her a little wink and then turned away, thumbs tapping the little screen as she posted the update onto all her socials, exactly as Carine had asked her to. Telia made her way back through the crowd and disappeared from view.

Just then, a voice called out from behind her.

"Magda, not a good day to be late."

Walker was nearby, talking to someone Carine couldn't see.

"Sorry, I was... uh, traffic." A female voice, younger than Walker.

"Whatever. We're opening in two minutes. Ready?"

"Sure. Is this her?" The voice was close now, directly behind her.

Magda appeared in her peripheral vision. Carine desperately wanted to turn her head and get a good look at the newcomer, but had to settle for a glimpse: dark hair, young, about Carine's age, olive skin. She was wearing a short skirt, dark top. The figure stepped away.

"That's so freaky. She's just gonna stand there?"

"That's the idea."

"Who the hell wants to volunteer to be turned into a mannequin? Shit, can she hear me?"

"No. She isn't aware of anything. She's switched off, is the way they explained it to me."

"Can't feel anything?" The voice was right beside her ear now.

Carine heard footsteps receding from her, as Walker went to unlock the front doors. A finger prodded Carine's helpless rear. A thumb and a finger, and then a hard pinch. Carine couldn't move, but she felt the sharp pain.

"Seems you are frozen. This is gonna be so much fun."

The hand withdrew and Magda walked away. Carine heard the doors open and suddenly the boutique was filled with sound as customers poured in.

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They were busy all day, a constant stream of interest from passers-by. Carine heard Magda complaining under her breath nearby about having to constantly refold clothing. Once, a hand settled on her bottom, startling her, then Magda's voice in her ear again, telling Carine this was all her fault.

What was all her fault? The touch had been light, almost a caress, and she could feel the afterglow from it. She could still feel the afterglow from Walker's hands on her body, primping and positioning her. She could see the faces staring at her as she stood on display. Magda's hand had rekindled the fire in her core, making her ache.

Maybe it was something about being frozen, like the way that if you lost one of your senses then the others would magnify to compensate. Each touch seemed to linger, and the feeling of being put on display made it worse. Carine wanted to stroke herself, right there in the display window. She wanted to plunge her fingers between her pussy lips and satisfy the craving. It was almost beyond endurance to have her hand positioned on her hip, her fingertips only a few inches from her needy little nub, but unable to close that gap as strangers' eyes roamed over her body.

Towards the end of the day, an area was cleared in front of the window, and Walker stepped out of the boutique. A stunning blonde woman in a figure-hugging dressed came up to her and they shook hands. Carine could just make out the conversation through the glass.

"So, we'll get Mike to set up here," the woman was saying. "Get the shot with the girl in the background. You stand there. Ready to go?"

Walker took up her assigned position. "Ready."

The woman smiled, beckoning a cameraman over. She fussed with her long blonde hair, her emerald-green eyes glittering, and then brought the microphone up to her face. Carine found herself staring directly down the lens of the Six O'Clock News.

The woman paused, and then suddenly she was in full flow, gushing as she asked Walker questions, smiling broadly at the answers. Carine watched her face, mesmerised, acutely aware that she was the backdrop for the interview in her little cocktail dress. She could imagine her friends seeing her on TV, and it gave her a delicious thrill to know she'd be prime-time viewing. Everyone would be watching her in her sexy outfit. They'd all want to know who she was.

The interview lasted a couple of minutes, and then the cameraman stepped back. Walker relaxed.

"How did I do?" she asked.

"Wonderful. This is so fascinating, you know? Usually it's house fires or triplets, but this is actually something. Can we get a shot inside, with her?"

"Of course."

Carine waited, staring out at the faces on the other side of the glass, unable to see what was being arranged. When the lens of the camera came into view, it was a shock.

"So, take us through it, Ms. Terrin. How does it work?"

Carine would have jumped if she could. Walker stepped in front of her, brushing her hair away from her neck. She turned to the interviewer.

"I don't understand the technical details, but it's all to do with this little square chip in the back of her neck. When it's activated, she's, uh, frozen. Then we can dress her and pose her however we want."

"And what do you think are potential other applications of the technology?"

"From what I was told, the Chinese were looking to use if for space missions. But, I guess this is a lot more practical."

"And it's a six-month contract, you said. I'm curious as to why someone would sign themselves up for this, standing in your window for that length of time."

Walker shrugged. "I guess you'd have to ask her."

The interviewer smiled, holding the microphone to Carine's lips. "I guess that's a no-comment," she laughed. "Maybe we can ask her in six months. I'd love to do a follow-up."

"Of course. I'm sure she'd love to talk."

The interviewer smiled again and stepped back. The cameraman lowered the lens.

"Thank you, Ms. Terrin. I think we can really make something of that. I'd love to cover her, uh, unfreezing. I think it would be fascinating to get..."

"Carine."

"Yes, Carine. To get Carine's take."

Walker shook her head, "There won't be much, as far as I understand it. Her body is completely suspended. For her, no time passes. She'll blink and we'll be in the Winter collection."

The cameraman began to pack away, but the interviewer didn't move off. Instead, she came up close to Carine, searching the frozen woman's expression. Carine found herself staring into unfathomable green eyes.

"Ms. Terrin..."

"Walker's fine, Ms..."

"Just, Lily, since we're on first-name terms. Tell me something, would you let someone do this to you?"

Walker contemplated Carine for a long moment.

"I mean," the interviewer continued, "She's completely at your mercy, isn't she?"

"I... no, that's not... We have security cameras. The boutique is locked when we aren't here."

The interviewer smiled grimly. "I understand that. But, imagine a technology that turns young women into dolls. Imagine what could be done with that."

Abruptly, the woman stepped back, turning her attention to Walker again. "I'd love to do that follow-up when all this is over. I have so many questions. Mike, we good?"

A man's voice answered from somewhere behind Carine. "Yup."

"Okay, let's get this back to the studio. Walker, thank you so much for your time."

The blonde woman paused, returning to Carine again. "That's the thing," she murmured, as if talking to herself. "The further you explore into the middle of it all, the crazier it gets." Then, she turned back to Walker.

The two women shook hands, and Walker escorted them out of the boutique, leaving Carine on her own to face the onlookers. But, the show was now over.

As the crowd dispersed, a young woman walked up to the window. It was Florence. She approached the glass, placing her hand against it, smiling slyly at Carine.

"Look at you," Florence said. "You went through with it after all."

Florence wrinkled her nose, but her eyes stared directly into Carine's.

"I wanted to take you home from the club. I wanted to peel that little silver dress off your body and lay you down on the bed. I spent all night thinking about it, about grinding my pussy over that beautiful face until I came."

Florence paused, her cheeks flushed. Slowly, she licked her lips.

"I'd have stood you back up, put you in the corner of the room, with your face dripping. In the morning, I'd have woken up and done it all again. Maybe I will, after all this is over, Carine. Maybe I could take you for the weekend, just you and me in a little place somewhere, with you on your knees in whatever I dressed you in."

Florence leaned closer, until her forehead almost touched the glass.

"You're such a beautiful dolly. I'd love playing with you."

With that, Florence blew a kiss and walked away.

Carine stared out through the window, unblinking, a serene smile on her beautiful face as if her head was as empty as the mannequins standing next to her on display. But, inside she churned with the thought of what Florence would have done to her if she'd had the chance. Being the other woman's toy, dressed up with her body put on display, made her squirm inside.

An older woman passed by the window, on her way home. She stopped for a moment to take in the curves of Carine's body in her little cocktail dress, then smiled. "So pretty."

Carine stared back blandly. There was no sign of the endless, delicious torment buried within the beautiful figure in the shop window.

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[Next chapter: Carine is bringing the customers in, but Magda has revenge on her mind. What will she do to a defenceless living mannequin?

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