The Devil is in the Detailing 2

by Tannen Scheer

This tale was started some time ago; this current chapter is a continuation of events so if you're unfamiliar with how things got started and how the characters got into their current fix, click here to read the first part. [Ed.]

Chapter Two

Kim hoped that she was crawling in the right direction, but whatever doubts she may have had were quelled by the sounds of high pitched screaming coming from just ahead.  Fortunately, her silky smooth nylon legs slid quickly along the tin interior of the air shaft.  In just a few moments, she reached a large air vent similar to the one through which she had escaped the horrors of the female engulfing vinyl of the Upholstery Room.  But one look through the vent’s metal grid revealed new horrors in the Painting Room.

A plain white van sat in the middle of the room awaiting a patented Basil Bubb customized paint job.  That was normal and innocent and entirely appropriate for an exhibit on van customizing at an auto show.  What wasn’t normal was the oversize clear vinyl container that hung next to the side of the van, with a bikini clad race queen inside, screaming silently and pounding her fists on the inside of the plastic to get out.  And there was nothing innocent about the large black motorized object moving to and fro around the room, its antennae rotating to pick up some kind of signal, and a large flexible hose extending from the front of the machine like an elephant’s trunk.  And there was nothing appropriate about two additional models - one dressed in a similar yellow bikini to the vinyl-trapped model, and the other in black leather top, shorts, and boots - having to hide, silently, so the motorized machine would not detect their presence.  Although, considering what Kim had witnessed in the Upholstery Room, perhaps this entire scene was all too appropriate for what the sponsor of this auto show intended for his special ‘models.’

Kim wasn’t quite sure what kind of machine the black ‘robot’ was.  But she knew that there wasn’t a whole lot of area for it to survey before it found Michelle and her blonde, bikini’d co-model.  So she had to act fast.  She needed to get Michelle’s attention.  Her black leather clad friend was hiding behind a large paint color display, keeping her eyes riveted on the rotating black machine.  At first, Kim tried waving her hands, but the metal grid provided too much cover.  She had to take a chance.

As slowly and quietly as she could, the model loosened the grid, and let it drop just a few inches.  Unfortunately, Michelle was so focused on her automated assailant that she didn’t notice the movement in the ceiling.  The robot-like unit paused a moment, its antennae rapidly moving back and forth, and then it slowly moved toward Michelle’s hiding place.  Kim knew it was now or never.

“Michelle!” she called out.  Her dark haired friend looked to the ceiling, but so did the robot.  Fortunately, Kim quickly pulled the vent back into place immediately after calling out, but before the robot turned.  She stayed perfectly still, hoping that however the metal menace ‘saw’ things, it would not be able to ‘see’ her through the grill.

The dark machine moved tentatively in the direction of the ceiling vent, its antennae rotating slower now, and its large hose swaying back and forth in menacing fashion.  Apparently, the machine could not discern Kim’s presence behind the metal grid.  But Michelle could, and the frightened model waved her hand slightly to acknowledge Kim’s call.

By now, the robot was somewhat confused, torn between movements and sounds in the area of the ceiling vent, and near the paint display.  Since it could not decide between the two, it began moving to the other side of the display room, past the white van, heading toward the hiding place of the model in the yellow bikini.  Michelle stepped out from behind the paint display, and motioned to Kim.  She put both hands down rapidly, then pointed to herself and gestured with two ‘walking’ fingers toward a metal display pole near the van.  She made another dropping motion aimed at Kim, then lifted her hands above her head and dropped them down over and over.  Strangely enough, Kim understood Michelle’s plan, and nodded.  Kim noticed that the robot was getting closer to the hiding place of his new quarry, and realized there was no time to waste.  Once more, she loosened the metal grate, but this time she dropped it down several inches, swung it back and forth a time or two, and then hurled the metal object to a distant corner of the room.

The loud crash caused the robot to stop and spin quickly, then head toward the source of the noise.  Michelle quickly ran to the metal post and detached the velvet ropes, readying her weapon.  She nodded to Kim to get ready to jump down when she advanced on the robot, and was about to yell out to get the machine’s attention.  When suddenly, the girls’ plan went awry.

Seeing the robot spin away after the crash, the bikini’d model thought this was her chance to escape.  She leaped out from her hiding place, and started running toward the door.  The clattering of her white heels on the floor immediately alerted the robot.  And this time, there was a moving shape accompanying the detected sounds.  Again, the robot spun quickly, and began to move rapidly toward the fleeing model. 

The girl reached the door, but in her fear and panic had forgotten that they had unsuccessfully tried to open the locked door prior to her friend’s capture.  Now she saw the robot moving toward her, and she was frozen in fear.  Michelle started toward her, pole raised, but quickly realized it was too late.

The robot extended its flexible hose, and suddenly a loud noise could be heard throughout the room.  The model extended her hands to shield herself, but all that did was provide a pointed target for the robot’s suction.  The hose pulled the girl’s arms forward, literally dragging her heels across the floor.  In seconds, the model’s hands and arms were sucked into the hose, followed quickly by her long blonde hair and attractive face.  The model’s ample breasts, only barely covered by her yellow bikini, fell victim to the intense suction, and when the long hose raised in the air, all that remained outside of the hose were two long, nylon sheathed legs with white heels kicking empty air.  By the time the girl was into the hose up to her knees, the heels had been kicked completely off.  Finally, two lovely tan stockinged feet were pulled into the hose, and the model had been completely engulfed. 

Michelle and Kim were frozen in shocked silence.  They noted, curiously, that the hose reached to the floor and inhaled the two white heels.  From her high vantage point, Kim saw that for a few moments, the lovely model was a voluptuous lump inside the hose, still struggling for freedom.  But the model was quickly ‘swallowed’ into the body of the robot.  The weird devourer then turned and headed to the side of the van opposite the one where the other bikini model swayed in her plastic prison.  Her struggles had temporarily ceased as she watched her friend’s capture, nearly identical to her own.  She wondered what was next in store, but her silent inquiry was answered when another large plastic container dropped from the ceiling.  And just as it had done with her, the robot moved to the container, attached its hose to a large hole in the plastic, and reversed its suction.  A blonde head was pushed out of the hose, followed by bikini clad breasts, waist, and pantyhosed legs.  Once the model was completely discharged, two white pumps flew out of the hose, and the robot withdrew its appendage, quickly sealing the hole.

Immobilized by the shocking scene that had played out before her, Michelle had waited too long to attack the robot.  She scampered back behind the paint display, thankful that her lower heeled black boots were quieter than the captured model’s white pumps.  The dark haired model gazed up once again at Kim’s hiding place in the ceiling.  But Kim was still staring at the scene surrounding the van.  Two large girl-filled plastic sacs swung to and fro on both sides of the plain white van.  Except for hair color, the girls were dressed exactly alike - same bright yellow bikini, same shiny tan pantyhose, same white high heels - which the second capture model had placed back on her stockinged feet.  Kim thought a moment about the shoes.  If all the robot was doing was capturing the girls, why did it make a point of retrieving the fallen pumps?  Was it because the other bikini model was still wearing her heels?  If so, then that meant the girls’ outfits needed to match.  But why?

Kim’s sleuthing thoughts were interrupted by increased movement in the plastic prisons.  The models seemed to be agitated about something (besides being vacuumed into captivity).  Then Kim saw that a white, willowy mist was beginning to appear in each sac.  At first the girls were just frightened, and tried to move back from the fogging concoction.  Kim assumed it was just some sort of sleep gas or other drug.  But it wasn’t just rendering the models unconscious.  It was rendering them in some other, more hideous fashion.  Kim saw that as the girls placed their hands against the side of the plastic and then pulled away, a flesh colored stain was left behind.  The same was true of their feet, as patches of white appeared where the girls white pumps had rubbed against the plastic. 

The white ‘smoke’ had become so thick in the plastic containers, that Kim could just barely make out the shapely forms of the model’s struggling within.  But, strangely and frighteningly enough, those shapes seemed to be getting smaller.  In a few moments, the struggles had completely ceased inside the plastic.  Kim wanted desperately to drop down from her hiding place and find out what had happened, but the vacuum robot still stood vigil, no longer rolling about, but still rotating his antennae.  The fog inside the girls’ plastic prisons was disappearing now.  And when it was completely gone, both Kim and Michelle had to cover their mouths to keep from screaming.  Because all that was left in the plastic were two pools of thick, multicolored liquid, languid in the bottom of the sacs as their swaying slowed gradually, then stopped.  Somehow, Kim thought, that mist had melted the two bikini beauties.  Not only were the girls bodies dissolved, but there was also no sign of their swimsuits, their pantyhose, or their pumps.  It did appear to Kim, although she viewed the sacs from a distance, that the colors of the clothing - yellow, tan, and white - swirled in the melted goo.  But she must have been just imagining that. 

She certainly wished that she had imagined what she just seen.  And what she was about to see next.  Kim was still puzzled for a moment as to why the girls had been melted, but only because the shock of the events had made her forget what room she knelt above, and where the melted girls were now positioned.  The next few moments served as grim reminders of both.

The robot moved to the van side of each of the plastic sacs, and attached its hose to a hole in the plastic.  But instead of sucking out the melted girls, which was what Kim had expected, he left something behind.  Something that, at a distance, looked like some kind of a nozzle.  Once the robot had moved out of range, his antennae started circling rapidly, apparently sending some kind of signal to the sacs.  Because they started to move slowly up and down the length of each side of the van.  And as they moved, the nozzle apparatus began spraying the liquified contents of each sac onto the pristine white surface of the vehicle. 

Now Kim remembered what room she was in.  Now she remembered what she had witnessed not long before in the Upholstery room.  The unbelievable, horrible fate, that had befallen her good friend Sikumi.  And now she knew why the girls had been trapped, dressed alike, held aloft before this van, and then mysteriously dissolved.

As the spraying continued, and the new look of the van sides neared completion, Michelle also realized what had happened.  On the van side nearest her hiding place, she saw the life sized form of her modeling colleague take shape on the white metal.  The likeness was stunning: long black hair, beautiful face, yellow bikini top barely concealing fleshy cleavage, yellow bikini bottoms melding into bright tan stockinged legs, and at the end white pumps that nearly blended into the van’s original color. 

The plastic sacs were eventually emptied and stopped their movement.  The artwork was complete.  On each side of the van, the voluptuous forms of the two bikini models were revealed in all their sexy and wet (but drying) beauty.  The two surviving models in (and above) the room stood and crouched in stunned silence.  But then Michelle looked closer at the painted form of her co-model.  She shook her head and looked again.  And in disbelief, what she thought she had seen happened again.  A slight rise and fall of the flesh covered cleavage of the painting.  An almost imperceptible flicker of the long black hair.  An oh-so-small movement of the knee detectible only because it caused the light to shimmer differently off the shiny tan color of the hosiery.  That’s when Michelle realized that it wasn’t just paint on the side of the van.  It was something else into which the models had been dissolved.  Something that retained just a trace of vitality and animation. 

In other words, the models were still alive, but now trapped forever on the side of this machine in the mostly inanimate form of paint.  That’s when Michelle screamed.  And that’s when the robot swung in her direction, and extended its vacuum hose.  The robot’s powerful suction began pulling Michelle along the floor toward the giant hose, and ultimately an unnatural and horrifying fate.  But Kim put into action the plan that she and Michelle had silently agreed upon before the second bikini model had been captured. 

Kim dropped down from the ceiling, her stockinged feet hit the floor hard but she kept her balance.  She walked toward the back of the robot, shouting, “Here!  Over here!  Hey, metal head!”  At first, she was afraid that once the robot had zeroed in on a victim, it would not be dissuaded.  But fortunately, Michelle was still several feet from the robot.  So the machine shut off its suction, causing Michelle to fall to the floor.  It whirled to face Kim.  And unfortunately for her, she was several feet closer to the robot than Michelle had been.  In fact, when the robot lifted its long vacuum hose, Kim’s face was only a few feet away.  But only for a few seconds, because when the robot activated the suction, Kim’s head was sucked into the appendage, and her neck and upper chest followed quickly.

Immediately after falling, Michelle got up and retrieved the metal post she had in hand earlier, and rushed the robot.  She began to beat the metal monster with the heavy metal post, swinging the heavy object as hard and as often as she could.  She put several dents in the side of the robot, but the suction continued, and by now Kim was sucked in all the way to her waist.  Her feet were lifted off the floor, and her attractive nyloned legs kicked futilely in the air.  Michelle knew that in only a couple more minutes, Kim’s whole body would be deposited in the robot’s belly, and the suction hose would be turned on her.  She had to think of something else . . . .

Think.  Of course.  Her attention shifted from the robot’s metal body to where it did its thinking - the waving attennae on top.  She had to lift the heavy metal pole high in the air, and she probably only had time for one swing since Kim’s knees had disappeared into the hose, and all that remained were stockinged calves and feet.  The leather clad model drew in a deep breath, swung the pole high and right at the antennae.

And connected.  Sparks flew out as the pole knocked the antennae completely off the top of the robot.  The robot began to gyrate wildly, with Kim’s nyloned feet going around in a circle.  But most importantly, the suction was diminishing, and soon ended completely.  The robot came to a halt, and crumpled to the floor. 

Michelle quickly grabbed hold of her friend’s feet, and began to pull.  Out came two pantyhosed legs, then a short flared skirt followed quickly by a shapely behind encased tightly in a satin-like one-piece swimsuit.  And finally, a washboard stomach and full breasts, topped by a reddened face puffing for air, and wildly unkempt jet black hair. 

“Thanks,” Kim finally managed enough breath to speak.  “I thought I was a goner.”

“Me, too,” Michelle agreed.  “All I could think about was that thing putting you into one of those plastic sacs, and then . . .” She couldn’t go on.  All she could do was point at the van, and its brightly colored sides, emblazoned with the transformed essences of the two beautiful bikini models.

“Yeah.  Although I don’t know where they’d have put me.  There aren’t any more sides.”  It was more a puzzle than a statement.  Kim wondered why three girls had been assigned to the Painting Room when there appeared to be a need for only two.

“I don’t know, either.  But what I do know is that we have to get out of here.”  Michelle looked toward the front door where model number two had been captured.  “We’re locked in this room.  I guess we could leave the way you came in,” she offered, looking to the ceiling vent.

“That’s a possibility,” Kim agreed.  “But considering what I’ve seen today, it’s an awful small space to get trapped in.  And who knows what might be happening in the other rooms.”

Michelle nodded.  “True.  But I don’t think we can stay here.  Somebody’s going to come to inspect the van, or check on the robot.”

When Michelle said ‘van,’ Kim got an idea.  “If we can’t walk out of here, maybe we can drive out.”  Michelle wondered what her friend meant, until she went to the driver’s door and looked in the window.  “I wonder if they left the keys.” 

Kim opened the door and checked the ignition and seat.  Michelle checked in the passenger side.  No keys.  Kim noticed a tall podium near the locked front door.  “I’m going to check that podium, and around the room.”

“Okay,” Michelle replied.  “I’ll check under the van.  Maybe they’re on some kind of magnet, or something.”

Kim quickly padded over to the podium on her stockinged feet, while Michelle slowly and carefully felt under the side of the van for hidden keys.  At one point she looked up, and caught a glimpse of the shimmering nylon fibers in the leg of the model painted on the side.  She followed the shine up the long leg, to the yellow bikini bottom, then looked up at the beautiful two dimensional face adorning the side of the vehicle.  When it appeared that the painted eyes of the model seemed to look down at her still mobile colleague, Michelle stood quickly and jumped away from the side.  “I think I’ll check the back,” she said softly, and moved out of the painting’s sight.

The search of the podium and adjacent counters was no more successful.  Kim looked under every brochure, opened every drawer, felt under every surface.  But there was no sign of the van keys.  The dark haired beauty knew that time was not on their side.  “Maybe we better get back in the vent,” Kim called to her companion.  “They might come to check on the robot any time.”

“There’s just one more place I want to look,” Michelle said.  She stood at the back of the van.  The large double doors were nearly hidden by a large spare tire, covered in white vinyl.  The raven haired beauty also noted two white leather mud flaps protecting each of the back tires.  “For somebody interested in ‘decorating’ their van, they sure have a plain boring back.”

“I thought about that,”offered Kim.  “Maybe that’s where the third model was supposed to go?”

Michelle shook her head.  “I don’t think so.  There was room on the sides for life size portraits.  But not enough room back here.”

“I guess you’re right,” Kim said, as she finished her search, and headed back toward the open vent.  “Where are you searching?”

“I knew some guy who had a van like this.  And when he went to the beach, he put his keys inside the spare tire cover, so he wouldn’t lose them.”  She started to pull back the cover.

“Guess that’s possible,” Kim said as she passed the back of the van and headed for the air vent cover she had thrown in the corner.

Michelle was still straining to pull back the vinyl tire cover.  “Of course, his tire cover came off a little easier than this.  And he certainly didn’t have those stupid mud flaps.  Guess Mr. Bubb makes long lasting tire covers.”

Hearing that, Kim paused to reflect a moment.  “Mr. Bubb?  Tire covers?”

“Yeah.  That’s the name on the tire cover - finally.”  The model pulled the cover far enough back to feel inside.  “No keys yet,” she said, reaching her arm in.  “Wow, that’s an awfully big tire valve for just a van tire.  Maybe it’s behind it.”

Kim got a painful knot in her stomach.  “Michelle.  Michelle!  Get away from that tire!”  She started toward her friend. 

“Don’t worry, Kim.  I’m almost finished . . . wait a minute, it feels like the valve cap is about to come offfffff ---- aaaaahhhhhh, my hand!”

Kim was horrified to see her friend’s hand and arm sucked into the oversized valve.  A panicked and fearful Michelle reached out her free hand for help, and Kim grabbed hold.

“The suction is . . . too . . . strong!” Kim cried, trying to pull her friend away from the spare tire, but barely able to keep her from being pulled in further.

“Oh, God!  Something’s happening to my hand!  Something’s happening to my arm!”  Michelle called out.  Kim looked at Michelle’s right arm, and saw a liquid spreading up toward the model’s shoulder.  She had wondered how even a large tire valve could contain even Michelle’s hand, let alone her arm.  This was not the large, flexible hose that had engulfed nearly all of Kim’s body minutes early.  This was a small piece of rubber.

But ‘small’ was the operative word.  The liquid spreading up Michelle’s arm - now spilling on to the girl’s shoulder and neck, was shrinking the flesh that it touched.  Michelle struggled a few moments, and called out once and twice more, but then the combination of the strange liquid and the horrible situation sent the girl into shock.  She was starting to collapse - psychologically and physically. 

“Hang on, Michelle!”  Kim cried out.  “I’ve got to get something to rub that fluid off of you!”  Kim reluctantly let go of her friend’s arm, and rushed over to a nearby counter, where some packages of drop cloths were on display.  She quickly tore open a pack, and turned back to her friend.  And she quickly realized, it was too late. 

The fluid had apparently coated the entire upper half of Michelle’s body in rapid fashion, because all that remained outside of the spare tire was the model’s waist, legs, and boot-covered feet.  Michelle’s black leather top, along with earrings and rings and a bracelet, had also fallen to the floor.  The liquid was spreading rapidly now - inside of Michelle’s leather shorts, but over the outside of her nude shaded pantyhose.  Michelle’s black boots lifted slowly into the air as her shrunken waist and thighs were sucked into the valve.  In only a moment, those boots dropped to the floor empty, and Kim watched in horror and two shriveling, nylon sheathed legs and feet quickly disappeared behind the spare tire cover, and into the tire valve.

Kim stood in stunned silence, mourning yet another friend’s horrifying demise, wondering what evil, demented purpose was served by Michelle’s fate.  Her questions were answered in short order when the surviving model noticed a black vinyl outline begin to appear on the white tire cover.  At first she thought it was some kind of writing, but then she saw that the lines were forming the shape of a young woman’s face.  A very familiar young woman.

“Michelle,” Kim half-whispered, half-cried, “Oh, poor Michelle.”

The outline of Michelle’s beautiful black hair and lovely face filled the round cover.  But the demonic artistry was not yet finished.  A similar outline began to fill the left mudflap, only this time the shape was that of a female’s upper torso, from neck to waist, with long arms ending in shapely fingers, and the outline of two nude, perfectly shaped breasts, complete with button like vinyl nipples. 

Kim guessed what would cover the other mudflap, even before the black vinyl lines began to wind their wicked way across the bright white surface.  A miniature version of Michelle’s lovely legs, viewed from the back, with shapely buttocks perfectly outlined, two attractive legs, one knee slightly in a sensual pose, ending in two feet, one with heel raised and toes pointed, the other flat.  Once the shape was complete, the legs took on a familiar texture that shone in the room’s lighting representing, no doubt, the nylon that encased Michelle’s lovely limbs.

So now, the van was complete, with colorful portraits of bikini clad models on each side, and the sexy split image of a third model outlined on the vinyl coverings on the van’s back.  But Kim’s mournful reverie at the sight of her friend’s demise was interrupted by a loud click at the door to the Painting Room.  The lone survivor of the room’s evil magic stood still for a moment, ready to hide if anyone came through the entrance.  When no one did, Kim walked slowly to the door and turned the knob.  It was unlocked.  Somehow, something had known that there were three models in the Painting Room awaiting a dreadful destiny.  Once their fates were sealed - literally - in the decoration of the van, there was no longer any need to keep the door locked.

But surely, Kim thought, a system so devilishly and destructively efficient would know that one model remained behind.  One model who escaped the oozing, smothering vinyl of the Upholstery Room.  One model who was snatched from a vacuum prison and avoided transformation into sexy decoration.  Was Kim simply too skillful for Basil Bubb’s terrible traps?  Was she just fortunate not to have shared her fellow models’ fates?  Or was it simply her misfortune to be in the wrong place for someone else’s wrong time?  Perhaps her time was yet to come.  And perhaps her place was the Waxing Room. 

The beautiful model shook her head.  Enough of this fatalistic crap.  She had to get out of this place.  For herself, of course.  But also, now, for Michelle and Sikumi and the other girls who had already become Basil Bubb’s transformed playthings.  She owed it to all of them to avoid the fate Bubb had planned for her in the Waxing Room, and to tell the outside world how evil the great Basil Bubb really was.

Kim took a deep breath, and pulled the door of the Painting Room open.  No more air vents.  It was time to pursue a more direct room to freedom.


To Be Continued...

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