Walking into the Sex Shoppe was not what unnerved Dan. What unnerved him was that his girlfriend Jackie was pulling him in by the shorts. Literally. The proprietor glanced up, then returned to reading his book. "Do we have to do this?" Dan stammered.
"Yes, you told me the reason you had that disappointed look on your face after," dramatic pause. "Last time. You told me you had a fetish. Great. Variety is good. It may not always be fun, but it’s seldom boring. In fact…"
"I was there Jacks." he interjected edgewise, the only option he knew of when she was retelling a past argument.
"Right." She nodded. "Anyway, you wouldn’t tell me what it was, and I told you I wouldn’t let it drop." She tugged the front of his shorts. "In more than one sense." She tossed him her wicked grin, which was one of the things he was falling in love with about her. "I know you, and if you can’t tell me, you can at least point."
Resigned to the inevitable, Dan nodded, muttered an affirmative, and started for one of the display tables. Jackie headed for another end of the store, not wanting to push him too far, yet. Dan pretended to peruse the merchandise. His thoughts more on finding an excuse than on trying to find a product. He looked up at her when he thought she wasn’t looking.
Physically attractive would be an understatement. She was 5’11, making it simple for her to look men in the eye, which she enjoyed. Her skin, golden, and Dan had found it incredible to touch. Firm would be a good adjective for her, as she kept herself very fit. Her breasts, stomach, thighs, all fit the description of firm. It also fit her personality.
They had met in a bar a year before. Some drunk had decided that she liked him, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. She put the bastard on his back, and headed for the door. The drunk sat up, pulled a knife out of his pants and drew it back. Dan grabbed the knife. Nothing fancy, but it made enough of an impression for them to start dating.
Now, Dan had to think of some way to explain his… condition. He could lie, he could tell her… what? Whatever it was, she’d probably give it a try. She was not shy. He’d be awkward when he was supposed to be eager, and she’d know he’d lied. That would end it. There’s no apologizing for lying about something you care about. That left the truth. Ugh. He’d been concealing that truth since puberty. It hadn’t been hard, the only place he could really satisfy his fetish was in dreams. Anything remotely similar that he’d found on the Net had distinct undertones of bondage which turned him off. Erections are hard to maintain while cringing and feeling sorry for the fictional characters.
Suddenly, he had an answer. Not perfect but, being truthful, it was worth a try. He approached her and muttered, "I don’t think they carry it here."
"I doubt that." It took the two of them a moment to realize that the proprietor was addressing them. The proprietor had set down his book and was giving them his full attention. The title read, Transdimensional Theory for the Practical… the last word was blocked from view by one of the many less identifiable objects on the counter.
"You heard that?" Dan didn’t find it easy to believe that the man had heard him mutter across the shop.
"I didn’t have to, you were dragged in here, and you stared at a table and gave the floor a very thorough examination. Then your pained expression changes and you head for your friend. Either you have a carpet fetish, which you wouldn’t need me for, as Menards will beat my prices every time, or, you were going to try and avoid outing yourself. Which was it?"
Dan was taken aback by this. "I said I didn’t think you had… what I’m looking for."
The proprietor smiled, "Right. I’m going to go out on a limb here," his expression clearly said that he wasn’t, "and suggest that your primary fear here is rejection, yes?" Dan looked down, struggling for words. "Okay. Now, I suggest we walk into the back room, and you can tell me. I’ve been in business for a long time, I’ve heard a lot of requests. Also, if, by some miracle, you did manage to offend me, what have you lost? We’ve only known each other for, what, a minute?"
Dan still had his defenses powered up. "I really doubt you carry it."
"Then you’ll want to take advantage of our store’s policy. If there is a discussion group devoted to it on the Net, we can help. If we can’t, we’ll get you air transport for two to any resort. The logic is that if we can’t get it up, we can get you up. A week in a romantic spot is not a bad substitute for a dream come true. Either way, we should be able to satisfy you."
Dan felt his defenses buckling. Jackie gave Dan a push, "Go. If a week with me in Paris or Hawaii won’t get you to talk, nothing will." Core breach!
"Okay." Dan went behind the counter and through the door that, according to the nametag, James was holding open.
James closed the door after putting up a sign showing a woman writing the words "Be right back" on a white background. The back area held some boxes, a desk, and doors going to what appeared to be fitting rooms. "Whenever you’re ready."
Dan wasted only a little time getting to the point. "I’ve always had this thing for magic acts… certain ones… it’s…"
"Deep breath," suggested James, unfolding his arms from his tall frame and demonstrating.
"Right." Whoosh. "The closest I’ve ever found was a site on the Net for mannequin lovers. But, none of the stories I found quite got it, you know? I can’t stay… aroused when I’m thinking, ‘shit, that poor girl,’ you know?"
"I can help."
"I keep… you what? But I haven’t…"
"Trust me. Now go bring your friend back here. This isn’t an over-the-counter purchase." James opened the door and pointed through it. Dan, slightly hopeful, went to get Jackie. He found her leaning against the wall by the counter. She didn’t move.
"Jackie?" He prodded her arm. She tipped back, and back, and fell. He grabbed her arm and she hit the ground with a rather hollow smack. To his credit, Dan didn’t start screaming. His beautiful girlfriend was now a beautiful mannequin. "Shit." He thought about sprinting for the door, but realized that even if whatever did this to her wasn’t still there, all he’d manage would be to abandon her.
He could no more do that than, say, cut off his own arm. At that thought, he realized he still held a plastic limb. There didn’t seem to be anything about it to suggest that it had come from anything but an ordinary mannequin. There were no fingerprints, although the hand was as caressable as it had been. He bent down, touching her cheek, shoulder, and side in a long caress.
Starting to pick her up, he discovered that the major joints had come unfixed. Her clothing, consisting of an athletic top and shorts remained undisturbed by it’s owner’s recent changes. Still, determined not to let her out of sight in this place, he attempted to pick all of her up. As she consisted of a head, two arms, a torso section, a waist section, and two legs, Dan soon realized that, if he were to carry her, he would have to be an octopus. Even then, he’d have to hop. In a flash of realizing he’d missed the obvious, he grabbed a couple of the store’s sacks to help him haul.
Back in the back he found… nothing. No James. Dan placed the parts on the desk and started to look around. The door closed and locked. "Shit." The door was hinged on the far side and was distinctly metal. Without a good mallet, Dan estimated that he could get through in… a day or two. He heard some scraping noise outside the door. Something heavy being moved, he thought. He realized where it was being moved to. "Shit." If he had that mallet, which he didn’t, it should only take a week to knock down a barricaded door. The closest thing he had, looking around the room, was… Jackie’s legs. They were hollow plastic. He was not going to subject her to that kind of treatment. "Great. Now, I was afraid before," he said, mostly to himself. "That if I told somebody about my fetish, my life would go to hell. This isn’t what I meant!" He gave the door a good kick, resulting in a satisfying thud. "I didn’t even get to finish outing my fetish, and it goes. Crap, Jackie, I’m sorry I got you into this. I was always afraid that if I told you, you’d go to pieces. Being right sucks right now." If this were like those stories, they were both doomed to a very dull future. "Shit." Realizing that talking to a mannequin was better than talking to himself, Dan turned her head to face him on the desk.
"Shit." This time, he said it more positively. He knew everything was all right when he saw her face. He’d missed it before, but she had that wicked grin he loved so much. He was shocked, and a mite awed. "You knew. You sneaky bitch. Wow." He turned, running a hand through his hair. "I could kiss you. Hell, why not? I don’t know how, but you planned this, didn’t you?" With that he planted one on that wonderful grin. "I hope to God you planned this. Well, I can handle mannequin sex, but it’s not what I wanted. Still, we’re stuck here for a while. I assume you can feel. I hope you enjoy this."
"Now, if you don’t want to do this, feel free to say no. Okay?" He began by assembling her upper half and her lower half. He set her top on the desk, and lay her bottom in front, so she came close to a sitting position. He spent several minutes caressing her smooth silky surface with lips, tongue, and hands. After a year of regular intercourse, he knew when she was usually ready for the next step. Assuming her timing remained the same in silicon… vinyl… whatever, he began removing her top. He soon discovered this required the removal of head and arms, and proceeded, while pressing her face to his lips. Setting her head down, he began exploring her breasts. When his gentle nibbles caused his teeth to clack against the plastic, he substituted with tongue and lips. The nipples were present and erect, only slightly darker than the surrounding color. Meanwhile, he was devoting his caresses to her back and thighs. Again guessing the time to be right, very hard to do with no feedback, he began to remove the shorts. He set the legs on the floor, and discovered that she was very much anatomically correct. It took a good fifteen minutes of rhythmic pumping before he gave up on climaxing.
"Sorry, I just can’t." At this, the door flew open, and James stepped through.
"What is… oh, sorry." James turned to allow Dan to find his pants with a semblance of dignity. "Isn’t this what you were looking for?"
Dan took a moment to sort things in his head. Definitely not a sinister scenario. "No. I thought I had at least made it clear that I don’t like the ones with the nasty undertones."
"You did figure out her intentions, I could hear that."
"You were listening?" disgust covered Dan’s face.
"I… that sounds bad. The supply room, over there, has a thinner wall. But that is beside the point. What was wrong?"
"Being locked in here was wrong."
"The lady’s request."
"Not telling me was wrong, and probably her idea too, right?" Nods. "But, most wrong, she wasn’t moving."
"That’s it? I’m sorry."
It’s cheesy, but I give you a choice:
Jackie came in the room then, wearing a VR suit. "So, James, you failed to satisfy us. When’s our trip?"
They enjoyed a fabulous vacation in Europe. They made a special point of seeing the Venus de Milo.
Or, we could do it this way:
Jackie spoke up from the table, "Shall we try again?"
Dan, more confident than he’d ever been, turned to James and said, "Is there a bed back here?" Helping the love of his life into the special fitting room, Dan had to wonder just how much this was costing them. He had some doubts about the pentagram pattern on the sheets, but unless somebody was summoning a horde of one-inch imps, it seemed harmless.
Now, if he could just get the home version…