Living Statues: Art Scene Two — Private Showing

by Q (edit by Dmuk)

Takes place after "A Special Freeze" with much the same cast of characters. If you are new to the Living Statues series, check out the Story Index. [Ed.]

"I am not liking this sapphic nonsense so very much!" Pratma objected as she straighened up. Carmela circled around her naked body, doing last looks on the Pratma's makeup. "Can you not find one of your other girls to do this thing?"

"Not really; you have the perfect physique to complete the composition. Relax, Pratma. Just keep your mind on the pose and I'll make sure you look good," Mitch tried to soothe her concerns. She really was the best one, with her athletic figure, he knew. Susan would have done this in an instant, he thought, but Susan is gone..

"What will my parents think, if they see me this way?" she suggested, not mentioning they were in England right now and had no idea where their roving daughter was. In her mind, she expected them to walk into the studio the next instant.

"They would think what everyone else will, that you and Nat make a lovely artwork together. Besides, not many people have been invited to this showing."

"You are OK to go," Carmela announced, peeking out from behind Pratma's lower back. "I can touch up anything else afterward, after she is in place." She held a large puff coated in bronze-colored powder and had managed to get some of it on her own face too. Most of the powder clung to Pratma's toned curves, giving her tawny body a metallic, almost polished, sheen without covering her skin entirely.

"Time's a-wasting; let's do it now," Mitch urged his reluctant living statue. Normally he wasn't so brisk. Normally they weren't so hesitant.

It was enough to sway Pratma; her mood changed mercurially as, after sticking her tongue out at him briefly, she wriggled herself into position with a series of moves that would have impressed a contortionist. She arranged herself in the pose he'd come up with; it wasn't easy to hold and she could feel her muscles starting to cramp up.

“Better freeze me while you can,” Pratma called out.

Mitch needed no encouragement. When Pratma stretched back into position with the frozen Nat, Mitch turned the dial on the control panel. Pratma instantly stiffened in place; a good pose, but not good enough. He had to make a few adjustments but finish before Pratma got completely solid. Stepping in, he quickly moved her hardening figure slightly, mostly fine-tuning the position of her legs. A few seconds later his model had become as totally rigid as the cast bronze she was imitating.

Mitch stepped back at the sight, pleased. Nat was lying on the pedestal face up. Her back was curved up and away from her backside until her firm breasts peaked at the top of the curve. Then her head dropped down toward the pedestal, not quite reaching it. Her arms were pulled behind her and bent at the elbows, raising her body up with her hands held in place on her back behind her upper torso, emphasizing her best features. To complete the picture that Mitch never tired of seeing, Nat’s eyes were closed but her mouth was open with the suspended cries of her ecstasy.

With the Immobilizer turned on at full power at the exact moment of her climax, Nat was locked into an endless climax of her neverending orgasmic peak where all thoughts, all reasons, all emotions or ideas of self, had whirlpooled into a white singularity of absolute pleasure that went on until she was woke up from Immobilization. It was Nat’s most favorite reason to be frozen as much as possible, even after all these years; more then any other woman in the gallery ever did. Mitch was happy to give the experience to her.

This time, Nat’s legs were raised up in the air at an angle with her torso. Bent at the knees and crossed at the ankles, they formed a diamond in the air. Mitch had done a wonderful job of adjusting Nat’s pose before she became solid and it showed.

Pratma lay frozen, face down, snaking through the diamond that Mitch had posed Nat’s legs into and that fit Pratma's form very well. It was tight enough to hold her body, but not tight to be uncomfortably tight or keep her from squeezing through. Her body was laid out from the diamond, lying flat on pedestal until it reached her legs. They were raised, slightly bent up at the hips to hide her waxed private spot while still in air and very bent at the knees so they went straight up in the air. She had her feet held with her soles flat facing the sky. They looked like perfect a place to rest something on. Mitch found they could hold something that could tip Pratma over, except for Nat’s legs holding her steady like the metallic statues they seemed like.

Past the diamond, Pratma’s breasts were hidden by Nat’s legs, and Pratma’s head lying down covered Nat’s bare vagina. Her short hair covered her face and more of Nat’s feminine region. Pratma’s arms stretched out past her head and both hands, palm down and flat, neatly covered the nipples and much of Nat’s cleavage. Because Nat was frozen first, her breasts were firm and hard when Pratma covered them and did not shift or get squashed. Pratma’s hands seem to fit Nat's bosom like a tight top.

“If this isn’t enough for them then nothing will be!” Mitch thought, checking the composition from several angles.

"I think the master would be appreciative. An almost perfect 'Q' composition," concluded Carmela as she added some turquoise accent bracelets to Pratma's ankles.

"I wonder if they're going to get it?" Mitch mused, thinking about the arriving guests. It was such an obscure concept, by an obscure artist, but inspiration had struck. He let his mind drift back to a few weeks ago.

It had all started with Cindy, his model-in-hiding. On the run from a poisonous relationship for almost half a year, she had been immobilized at her request, then disguised as various objects of art. First as the sculptured "wooden" base of a coffee table, most recently as a standing art-deco lamp and side table. Her lithe figure and bob-cut hair had been coated with a black lacquer that made her look like a porcelain statue. One day, between shoots, Carmela was enjoying her active time and got creative with some gold costume jewelry. When Mitch next sat next to Cindy, he was amazed. She'd been transformed into a life-sized replica of an Erté figurine, something out of an earlier, more elegant, period in time. Her body had been "accessorized" with gold necklaces, bracelets, earrings, and a tiara so she had become an alluring study in black and gold that reflected gleaming highlights from the torch-like lamp she held stiffly in one hand. Mitch immediately thought she could be the centerpiece for a creative photo project. When Angie came to him a few days later and showed him the Ziegfield Girls pictorial history she had found, he was hooked.

Now Angie had become a timeless Ziegfield Girl herself, posed motionlessly with her legs apart so her shapely naked body formed most of the letter "A" while she held a sphere above her head and looked forever upward at the heavens. Crossing over to the Erté inspiration, she'd been coated head to toe with a coppery makeup that when polished made her look like a cast sculpture. Her accents were cerulean scarves tied at her neck, wrists, and ankles. She stood on a cylindrical platform that was rigged so that the living statue of Angie began rotating when anyone came close, in homage to the earlier tableaux vivant scenes on their turntables.

Kristen had wasted no time telling Mitch what her preferences were for her scene, once he described his concept to her. A nordic golden blonde, she told him she had always wanted to become a true "golden girl" in his gallery of frozen artworks and reminded him of the many not-so-subtle hints, such as wearing a golden Lycra catsuit, she had given him. Mitch had no alternative to granting her choice; in truth he had been thinking of gilding her ever since she had posed as a garden statue at his party. Keeping with the theme, her immobilized body now also formed a letter "K", while in her hands she held a large hoop vertically. She had been so pleased with her pose that Kristen could not keep from beaming, so Mitch froze her with that expression. Her shapely body had been covered all over in gold leaf along with the rectangular pedestal she stood on; Kristen gleamed in the overhead spotlights like an impossibly beautiful trophy.

"They turned out pretty good, don't you think?" Carmela stated as Mitch was looking intently at his latest composition featuring Nat and Pratma as lesbian lovers.

He startled for a moment, not hearing come up beside him."Jeez, give a guy a heart attack, why don't you!" Is that a special skill of yours, sneaking up on people?

"Mitch, I've been here the whole time," she replied. "You were just daydreaming about the showing, weren't you?"

"Oh, OK, yeah. I guess I was," he returned, slightly embarassed. Unlike most of his long-term models, Carmela hadn't been around for long enough, at least not as a statue, for him to get to know her personality. As a result, she was always surprising him. Well, two can play at that game, he concluded, before saying, "talking about the show, I've decided I need one more figure to round out the staging. Guess who I'm thinking about..."

"Mitch, no," she protested, "we both agreed I needed to get out and move around more, that I've been spending too much time here as a sculpture, even though it's always interesting and you're very good at posing me. I was looking forward to meeting your guests as the hostess, not as one of the artworks. I even have a dress picked out."

"I know you'll look gorgeous in your gown, but I'd really prefer you to model it, up there." He indicated the last empty pedestal that rested near the entrance to his display area. "Please? I'll pay you double your normal stipend," he tempted. "Triple..."

"I have plenty of savings already, because I never get a chance to spend any of it. What time does a statue have to go shopping?"

Mitch decided to try a different tack. "You know, there are plenty of influential people on the guest list for this showing. Most of them will have a chance to see you up close; it could jumpstart your acting career."

"But they would see me as a pretty still life, not as a gracious hostess. There are fewer opportunities for someone who does not move or speak, you must know this!"

"Yes, you're right. I just had my mind set on you being part of the presentation; you are more than pretty as a still life, you are a gorgeous statue," he conceded.

"Maybe there is another way — are you open to a compromise?" she suggested, thoughtfully.

* * *

Three Days Later, evening

"Welcome, councilman, we are so glad you could attend," Carmela greeted the next in a seemingly endless line of arrivals. She was stunning, clothed in an off-the-shoulder Grecian-inspired gown of purest white. A wide golden belt - almost a girdle - encircled her slim waist tightly while her dark hair had been piled atop her head and held in place by a set of long jeweled pins. Her skin seemed to glow with the deepest of all possible bronze tans. She moved through the crowd like a goddess, making small talk and introductions, steering people over to where Mitch was holding court by the bar. Every few minutes, Carmela would glance at her brooch-watch.

After the stream of guests tailed off, Mitch stepped up to a podium and tapped the microphone a couple of times for attention. "Good evening, everyone; thank you for coming to my little showing." A couple people chuckled. "As many of you know, I've been photographing beautiful women for some time and have gained some notice while I've perfected my... technique. What most do not know is that I have also been exploring a different discipline, one of three dimensions, one of sculpture." There was a low buzz of hushed words that quieted after a few seconds. "So, direct your attention to the gallery doors as I'm pleased to present: Eternal Beauty, an Homage to Erté!" He vanished backstage; a few seconds later, he opened the doors from the other side. His guests moved quickly into the darkened gallery, where amazing statues stood posed in pools of brilliant light. There were six in total, life-sized, arranged on five pedestals. Each recalled female figures the artist had created during his long career, looking as if cast in metal or porcelain, they were elegant in their nakedness and composure. The guests milled between the displays, but seemed to congregate at one pedestal where a bronze figure in a short ballet leotard was posed as if stretching. The statue's features and hairstyle looked more than vaguely familiar.

Mitch moved next to Carmela and explained to those who asked that, yes, the statue had been modeled from life and the same young woman who posed for it had been their hostess for the evening. Unfortunately, he went on, she had been called away unexpectedly and would not return tonight. He gave his regrets and asked that any inquiries for her portfolio be directed to his website. As the crowd thinned out, he took a few moments to look over Carmela's immobilized figure and was relieved there had been time for her to undress, ascend the pedestal and take her memorized pose and for him to spin her dial on the control panel before he opened the gallery doors.

All in all, it had turned out to be an excellent compromise!


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