Decorative Girl

Vicki would never be a supermodel. She knew that. But that's not what she wanted. There were plenty of ways to make a living modeling that didn't include the jet set. No, Vicki was content to work in a local market doing magazines and runway shows. It was good money, and with no attachments, Vicki was able to squirrel away a tidy sum for when her modeling days would be over. Then, she planned to settle down, get married, have kids, maybe even go to college and become a lawyer.

Chicago was just fine for her, a large city, yes, but not exactly the fashion capital of the world. Modeling is not easy, no matter what anyone says. It was hard work for her, but work she loved. And Vicki was good at it, very good. She probably could have made it in New York, or even Paris. Vicki had more than good looks, she had a "presence" that's hard to define. That is what agencies and clients are always looking for.

It wasn't unusual for Vicki to get called to an out-of-town job, but L.A. was a bit out of the way. She was more used to flying to some smaller midwestern city where models are pretty scarce. There were plenty of beautiful women in L.A., most of them waiting for their "big break." So Vicki was a little confused when her agent called with a photo shoot at a big mansion in Beverly Hills. But the plane ride was free and she certainly wasn't going to quibble about the pay they offered. A trip to Hollywood and getting big bucks for a few hours work. There were some advantages to modeling after all.

Vicki arrived at the mansion at 3 in the afternoon. That was a little strange since most of her photo shoots were early in the morning. That was to catch the model before her skin started to sag. All she knew about the job was that it was for a new line from a top bridal gown designer. That was an added plus too. Vicki really liked modeling formal dresses. There was alot less stress, less moving, less athletics. Formal modeling was more sedate, a few set poses, no running around and faking emotions for the camera. And she loved the clothes. Vicki loved dressing up since she was a girl, but she especially liked getting into her mother's formal dresses. She would stand in front of the mirror and dream of being a woman. Now, she was doing the same thing, except in front of a camera.

As she walked into the mansion Vicki was greeted by a uniformed servant and led into a large hall where the photographer was waiting. The odd thing was, she couldn't see around the room. A sort of gauze tunnel was set up through which she walked until reaching the area where the photographing would take place. This sometimes happened on location shoots where the room is blocked off for some photographic purpose, so Vicki didn't think too much about it.

At the other end of the tunnel was the photographer who walked up to her, extended his hand very gallantly and introduced himself as George Costas. Vicki didn't know alot of photographers outside Chicago and the name didn't ring a bell. But he certainly was cute, about 35 with a dark mediterranean complexion. Vicki shook his hand and told him she was pleased to meet him.

"Why don't you start with hair and makeup," George said. "Fine," answered Vicki.

It was Vicki's experience that catalogue or advertisement clients were very particular about the model's look. She had even been at photo shoots where a representative of the front office was there to make sure the model correctly represented the corporate image. But there was no one like that here, just Costas and the hair/makeup woman.

"Hi, my name is Beth. Why don't you have a seat, Vicki?" she said.

Already Vicki was getting a good feeling. Beth was very good, and fast. She would have to be to get a job in L.A. The makeup was soft and Beth piled Vicki's blonde tresses on top of her head in a very formal way. And while she was in the chair, she had a pleasant conversation with Beth about southern California and movie stars. Yes, Vicki was glad she took this job.

"OK, I guess that's it for me, Vicki," said Beth. "Why don't you get changed behind that curtain. Everything you need is back there."

Vicki walked behind the curtain to find a clothes rack, some shoes and other necessary items, as well as a large, full-length mirror. Oddly, there was only one dress on the rack.

"Hey," said Vicki, "there's only one dress here. I came all the way to L.A. to model one dress?" She was joking with that last crack. Of course there would be other dresses to model. But she poked her head out to look at Beth who seemed a little rattled.

"Um, yes...yes of course there'll be other dresses. They're just not here yet. You get started with the one that's there."

OK, if that's the way they want it, Vicki thought. It seems a little strange, though. Vicki took off her clothes, except for underwear and nylons, and pulled the dress of the rack. It was a stunning wine-colored, floor-length bridesmaid's gown of dreamy lamour satin. Finally, a bridesmaid's dress that can be worn again after the wedding. At last designers were coming around to the obvious. She could see that the sheath silhouette would make it a tight fit but the jewel neckline and sleeveless style would help in that regard. Vicki slipped it on and stuck her feet into the matching shoes. There were wine colored gloves that she pulled up past her elbow. Then reaching for the zipper, she realized just how tight it was.

"Beth, can you give me a hand," hollered Vicki. Beth appeared in an instant and, realizing the problem, manouvered the zipper to the neckline.

"Are you sure this is the right size," asked Vicki. "Didn't my agent give you my statistics?" There was no way of knowing what size the dress was since it came directly from the manufacturer specifically for the shoot.

"Well, it is a little tight," said Beth. "But you look beautiful." Vicki turned to gaze at herself in the full-length mirror. Yes, she was beautiful. In fact, she was a knockout. Vicki had been told that so many times in her life that it started to numb her. But it was still nice to hear. Here eyes went up and down her reflected form and she was well-pleased with the look, both of her and the dress. Running her gloved hands slowly over the smooth satin gave her a little rush. She was a sexy woman, and she knew it.

"Excellent," cried Costas as Vicki emerged from the dressing area. "Exellent. You look perfectly marvelous, my dear." Vicki began to distinguish a slight accent in George's voice but she couldn't quite place it. "Please stand over here. You are luscious."

That was a little thick but she smiled nevertheless. "I'm ready to go, Mr. Costas."

"George, please, George, my sweet," pleaded Costas.

"OK, George." Vicki giggled at his over-the-top manner and all that "luscious-sweet" stuff. Was that supposed to impress her? She started to get her mind ready for the shoot. Most people don't realize how much acting is involved in modeling. She would now play the part of a beautiful, demure bridesmaid, so the potential buyer will see herself in that dress instead of Vicki.

"Let's start with a few basic poses, Vicki. You go ahead and I'll tell you when to change position." Vicki reached back in her modeling training and came up with some standard statuesque positions for formal clothes. Costas took a few shots on each one, his flash snapping away, and gently asked her to switch to the next. Each one was more "excellent" and "luscious" than the last, according to Costas. Then on the fourth pose...

"All right, Vicki, I want you to look directly into the camera. That's right. Now I'm going to take a few shots in a row and no matter how the flash affects you I don't want you to stop looking right into the lens. This is very important. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I think so," said Vicki. Could she do that? She was a professional model, of course she could do that! And Vicki was determined to show this guy that she could. Vicki fixed her gaze directly at the lens and held her pose. Costas' camera began to churn and the flash started popping in her eyes. An odd sensation began to come over her body but all Vicki's concentration was on holding that pose and looking into the camera. Pop after pop the flashes continued, too numerous to count as the camera whirred. It seemed that each one was getting brighter and brighter. Was he coming closer to her? She couldn't tell. Vicki held that pose no matter what was happening to her eyes. Finally, the flashing stopped and revealed Costas and his camera and inch from her face.

"Hey, what's going on here," is what Vicki wanted to say, but her lips wouldn't move. In fact, nothing would move except her eyes.

"Vicki?" said Costas, lowering his camera. "Vicki, can you hear me?" No response from the model. Costas waved his fingers in front of her and watched her eyes move but her limbs and torso remained fixed in place. He took one of her gloved hands and moved it to another position. When he took his hand away, the arm stayed exactly where he moved it.

"I think it worked," he said to Beth. "Vicki, I don't want you to be afraid. This isn't going to hurt you and it is only temporary. Believe me, tomorrow you will be fine." Don't be afraid? I'm frozen like a statue and he tells me to relax? "I'm just going to pose you here in the corner."

George and Beth delicately lifted Vicki from her position and moved her back about three steps closer to the wall behind her. Beth primped Vicki's hair a bit and did a final touch-up to her makeup. Costas then took her left hand and placed the palm down gently just below her hip, with the fingers towards the floor. In her right hand he placed a slender champagne glass and closed the fingers tightly on it so she would not drop it. He then lifted the arm out from her body as if she were offering a toast. Then, placing his hands on each side of her head, Costas manuevered it to look slightly to the right, in the direction of the glass. Finally, Beth reappeared and, standing behind Vicki, placed a double-strand pearl choker around her neck. The two of them then stood in front of Vicki and gazed at their handiwork.

"You are a masterpiece, Vicki," George said to her. And you are a bastard, Vicki thought to herself.

"Well, I think we are done," Costas said to Beth. "We can strike all this stuff now." In a minute the gauze tunnel and canopy had been lowered and Vicki could see the large room in its entirety. To her amazement, the room was full of people just like herself, women and men dressed formally and frozen like statues in various parts of the room. She could see women posed alone or sometimes couples with the woman's arm around the man. There was even one couple kissing, frozen in a torrid embrace. Some were along the walls, in the middle of the floor and even some on the enormous staircase stopped in the middle of making a grand entrance, their gloved hands sliding over the bannister. Now she understood the reason for all the secrecy. All of these people must be out-of-town models too!

As all the material was being put away, Costas stepped to the middle of the floor and spoke in a loud voice. "I'd like to have your attention please," he said, giggling at the silliness of what he had said. How could he not have their attention? "I imagine you are wondering what is happening to you. You are at the mansion of Signor Giuseppe Lorenzo, the famed Italian designer. Tonight, he has invited a few hundred of his closest friends to a private party to celebrate his new bridesmaid and formal collection. He wanted his guests to see the collection and so we have brought you here to be living mannequins. You see, he has to outdo himself every year. For your information, you have each been fitted with a piece of jewelry which has a two-fold purpose. First, when activated, it will complete the freezing process in your body. The only sensation you will feel of this will be your eyes becoming fixed to stare straight ahead. Second, it will turn on the pleasure regions of your brain so you enjoy the experience. I assure you that this condition is only temporary and tomorrow you will feel good as new. Even better than new."

And if I have my way, you'll be feeling something else, buster, and it won't be good as new, thought Vicki. If she ever got out of this she was going to give this clown a piece of her mind, as well as some of her high heels, and she wouldn't even wait to take off Signor what's-his-name's gown.

As the afternoon wore on, Vicki became gradually used to her situation. She spent the time watching the maids busily scurrying about the mansion on their errands and duties. All of the models/statues remained fixed in place, just like Vicki, not moving an inch. She noticed a particularly good looking guy holding the arm of a redhead in a blue gown. At least she could pass the time fantasizing about him. At about 6:00, Costas walked to the center of the room and, holding up a small box, fiddled with some switches on it. Vicki felt the warmest, most pleasing sensation emanating from the choker. It began to fill up her entire body with a gentle, slightly sexual titillation which she enjoyed to no end. She didn't even mind when she lost control of her eyes and they fixed in a blank gaze out towards the glass.

Costas and Beth then went to every display figure one by one making final checks and adjustments. When they reached Vicki, Beth pulled out a few strands of her blonde hair out of the hairdo on each side and let them fall to frame her face. George made the final touch by filling her glass with champagne. "You are a masterpiece, Vicki," said Costas. Vicki didn't much care. She couldn't move her eyes to see him and anyway, she felt "stoned" from the necklace.

It didn't take long for the guests to arrive, a meeting of the rich and famous, the glitterati from three continents. Distinguished looking tuxedoed gentlemen with their glamorous wives in outrageously expensive evening gowns promenaded the large hall and the entire house. Occasionally she thought she spied a famous movie star or two. Vicki could pick up parts of their conversations as they stopped to look at her.

"Lorenzo just gets better every year."

"This one is gorgeous. And what a beautiful girl."

"How do they keep their poses for so long?"

"The style is so modern, and that material, sumptuous!"

Occasionally a guest would touch her dress, trying to get a feel for the luxurious satin. One wise guy tried to get a feel for her ass before he was smacked by his date. Through it all, Vicki and the other living statues remained motionless, not even their eyes betraying that they were real people. She was frozen in time, stopped in the middle of offering a toast, a beautiful display figure in a stunning gown. As the night wore on, the slight sexual arousal continued. Vicki could have been on the moon for all she cared.

The ringing phone shook Vicki out of her sleep. She dreamily pulled back the covers and scrambled for the phone. "Hello?" she mumbled.

"Vicki, are you up yet?" her agent demanded.

"Oh, what time is it?" said Vicki still in a daze.

"You have an hour to catch that plane for L.A. Come on, this job is big bucks. Don't blow it."

"OK, I'm up," she lied. Vicki replaced the receiver and spent some time scratching her head and yawning. Then it hit her. "Wow, I haven't even packed yet!"