Chapter 3 – Meeting Your Match

Next morning, still feeling a little sore, though not unpleasantly so, Susan was packing Chloe’s lunch, her youngest daughter running late as usual. It wasn’t a surprise when Chloe brought the conversation round to her mother’s impending appearance on the telethon.

“So do you know what you’ll be doing?” her daughter’s face was alive with interest.

“The letter just said they were thinking of me for the quiz section.”

“Like last year?” Chloe asked, her eyes sparkling. “I do hope so. That’s a real starring role!”

“I wish you didn’t know that.” fretted Susan. It was troublesome, the way her youngest daughter only looked excited. “Those women were stripped of every shred of dignity. As good as naked and demeaning themselves just to get a laugh from the audience. Surely you don’t want to see me like that?”

She looked at Chloe hopefully, but her daughter now only looked sullen and mulish. She was probably worried Susan would persuade her father to change his mind about her watching.

“You always complained if your father or I mention sex.” her mother persisted. “How can you contemplate viewing with what they might have me doing? Assuming I do get a big part, they only said they were thinking of it.”

“But this is different. You’ll be on the telly - famous.” her daughter responded. “I hope you do get it. Remember last year, with that woman who had to press the button herself to detonate the thing up her bottom? Everybody was talking about it afterwards. It’d be great if you did something like that.”

Susan hadn’t forgotten that performance. The woman had looked really nervous as she pressed the button, but that wasn’t what troubled Susan now. What made Susan blush in sympathetic memory were the cruel comments and audience laughter as the poor woman had struggled to force the great cylinder into her own rectum, all shown in close-up detail.

“Are you really saying you want to watch your mother being treated like that?”

Chloe gave that distressed look teenagers often do when a parent is being rather slow.

“Mum! What’s the point in your being on there if you’re not? If you were looking for a quick chop, why did you volunteer?”

Because I didn’t believe I’d be picked, thought Susan to itself, and then I could have chosen the quick chop. She didn’t want Chloe to find that out, her daughter was already looking at her as if she was letting everyone down. There was no way out now, best to bluff it out and at least get her family’s admiration.

“You’re right Darling.” she answered instead, digging out the happiest smile she could find. “It’s just your old mum getting a bit of stage fright.”

Putting on a brave face seemed to work. As she watched Chloe leave for school, Susan had almost convinced herself she wanted what was coming.

****

Susan’s emotions swung all over the place for the next few days. She tried talking to Becca, her eldest, but, while she was more sympathetic than Chloe, she still made it clear she was looking forward to seeing her mother on the telly.

“Everyone’s been talking to me mum. They’re all really in awe, nobody else has had their mother get on.” her eldest daughter had confided to her. “They’ve all been asking what you look like naked.”

“Have you told them?” Susan had asked anxiously.

“Of course not mum.” for a moment she’d thought Becca was being sensitive, but then the girl had gone on. “That would hardly be fair.  I wouldn’t want to spoil it.”

“I suppose not.” Susan answered distractedly. She was now imagining how her daughter’s friend would look, laughing from their sofas at her fading looks.

“Are you planning anything?” Becca went on.

Now Susan looked a bit confused, “What do you mean. I think it’s all arranged for me.

“Yes.” Becca explained. “But that doesn’t stop you from adding an extra touch. Like the redhead last year who’d shaved completely and fixed all those jewels round her holes. I think you’d look great all smooth with a glittering back door.”

What Susan remembered of the redhead was seeing that glittering anus shredded as a high-speed reamer hollowed out it’s owners belly. Anyway, she really couldn’t see herself decorating her private parts. She’d learnt from her conversations with Chloe though, and didn’t spend time trying to talk her eldest out of looking forward to it.

“I don’t think I’ll bother with all that fuss.” she’d answered instead. “Maybe a light trim. I don’t see anything wrong with what I’ve got.”

“It’s your choice I suppose.” her daughter replied, though not unkindly, just looking a little disappointed. “If I ever get on I’m getting it all waxed and sprayed gold.”

Susan was left silenced by this as Becca wandered out, oblivious to the effect she’d just had on her mother. It was all a bit overwhelming to Susan, she didn’t know what she was hoping for any more. She wanted to do her best, but, even if that’s what they expected, she didn’t want her daughters to see her if she was taunted and laughed at as her intimate parts were beaten ragged. Could she really keep up her cheery pose until she was abused to tears? Most women seemed to manage to, so effortlessly that she sometimes wondered if she was right and it was really a pose.

****

“Hi Susan. Remember me?”

“Sandy! Of course. I’m surprised you remember me though. You must have signed up hundreds of women.”

Susan had just entered the grandiose reception at the television studios. Standing in the high-ceilinged atrium, surrounded by a bustle of activity, she’d stood felling very small and uncertain. Now she latched gratefully onto a familiar face.

“Of course I remember you.” Sandy giggled. “It was your enthusiasm that got me my best night for sign-ups this year. Turns out I needn’t have bothered putting my own name down to boost the numbers.”

She wasn’t sure whether to be gratified or worried, but Sandy didn’t seem upset. Maybe she hadn’t been selected?

“I suppose you’re here to help organise things?” Susan asked cautiously.

Sandy chuckled. “A bit of that. But mostly I’m here to be snuffed.”

That threw Susan a bit. Sandy didn’t seem the least perturbed, she actually seemed to be enjoying herself immensely. Maybe she knew she was up for something quick and not too degrading? Susan had to find out.

“What have you been signed up for?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light. “Are they doing the guillotine show again this year?”

“I think so, is that what you were hoping for?” Sandy didn’t wait for Susan’s answer. “A bit short that I’ve always thought – you’ll find the quiz a much better role. I’m going to be one of the rack babes - not short at all really.”

How was Sandy so upbeat? The woman was about to be slowly stretched on a rack as bets were phoned in - punters wagering how many inches her naked body would stretch before it expired or tore apart.

“How are you managing to stay so cheerful.” she couldn’t help asking the other woman. “Aren’t you worried what your family and friends will think of you when they see you naked and being wrenched apart.”

“Not really! My family runs a little slaughterhouse in the country. Our kids have helped to chop up half the women we know. Only last month they had their aunt come through.” Sandy paused briefly before carrying on. “Anyway, all the kids I know love the telethon. Don’t yours?”

Susan couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge out loud her own two daughters enthusiasm for their mother’s appearance. “But isn’t a quick job in a slaughterhouse a bit different to a couple of hours naked on a rack in front of a live audience?”

This brought the loudest laugh yet from Sandy. “You’ve never met Don, my husband. There’s a lot more you can get away with out in the country. Beth, that’s my sister that we did last month, was used for a bit of a live biology lesson first. They seemed pretty happy helping dissect their aunt however loudly she screamed, I don’t think they’ll have a problem with me on the rack.”

“I’m surprised you were okay with that.”

“It was all above-board.” Sandy reassured her. “Don asked Beth first. She was quite content to help out her niece’s with their education.”

Susan wanted to ask more, but Sandy grabbed her hand and dragged her off.

“We’d best get you registered. The producers hate it if the talent isn’t there in plenty of time.”

****

Things had gone very smoothly. Sandy had helped her through the registration process and everyone she met had been smiling and friendly. It had all been so pleasant, Susan was beginning to forget why she’d been so reluctant. Now they’d reached the door with ‘Dressing Room 27’ on a neat little plaque.

“You’ll be sharing this with your fellow contestant.” Sandy informed her, as she opened the door. “I checked her in earlier, so we should her here already.”

“Hi Juliet.” Sandy called out as she pushed the door to the little room open, revealing an older woman looking at herself a little pensively in a full length mirror. “This is Susan who you’ll be competing against.”

It was a bit of a relief for Susan to find somebody who looked as nervous as she was. After Sandy’s cheery attitude to her fate, and the staff’s friendly efficiency, here was a woman who looked as if she shared her uncertainty about what they were in for.

Juliet also looked more like Susan as well. Sandy today was attired in a style verging on mutton-dressed-as-lamb - all high-heels and plunging cleavage. Juliet had gone for a long-sleeved dress in a muted grey, cut sensibly above the knee, held in at the waist by the type of wide belt that helps to hide a little paunchiness in the tummy. Even her hair’s quite like mine, thought Susan, much lighter, but about the same length, and tidily held in one neat bunch at the back. I wonder if we were chosen to match?

Sandy watched with professional interest as the two women eyed each other up. Juliet was looking as critically at Susan as Susan was looking back at Juliet. They really were a good match, she congratulated herself. Juliet might have a slight edge in height and weight, but they both looked like they’d just emerged from the door marked ‘nice mummies’.

“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” she announced. “Hair and make-up will be along soon. You might as well get into the dressing gowns now.”

With that Sandy bustled out. Leaving the two women standing awkwardly in silence. It was Juliet who broke it first.

“There’s not much privacy in here.” she said, sweeping her hand round to indicate the bare little room. “Would you like me to wait outside while you get changed?”

Susan almost accepted the offer, it’s what she’d have suggested herself. Then she remembered they would be appearing together very shortly, and it wasn’t likely their modesty would be respected then.

“I don’t mind undressing with you here.” she replied instead. “But, if you need me to leave, I don’t mind at all.”

“Maybe not.” Juliet answered, then laughed, “I’m not sure why I bothered offering that now. Habit, I suppose.”

That broke the ice. The two women physically sagged a little as the tension left them. Susan closed the door behind her and grabbed a robe before starting to get undressed. Self-consciously anxious to show that was nothing wrong, she was actually making an effort not to hide even the most intimate parts of her body. Despite trying to appear casual in the face of nakedness, Susan did find herself looking away as Juliet undressed next to her.

Just as Susan successfully manoeuvred into her robe there was the briefest of knocks and a harassed looking young woman burst into the room. She started talking at the two ladies without even a hello. Despite their statements to each other that it didn’t matter now, they instinctively yanked their robes across to cover their bodies, not that the intruder even appeared to notice.

“Sorry to be a pain. I’m running horribly late. Still doing the make-up in room seven. Can you spread your own body glitter?” with a slight pause to catch her breath, she dumped a largish pot on the table. “All over please except faces and soles, help each other with backs and bums. I’ll be back to finish you off as soon as I can.”

It felt like a minor whirlwind had left. Susan and Juliet, neither of whom had been given a chance to get a word in, just stood there trying to work out what had been said. After a moment Juliet cautiously reached out to lift up the pot and read the label.

“I know what this is.” she announced, after a quick perusal. “One of my daughters sometimes uses it. You just spread it over your skin and it makes it sparkle a little in the light. Do you really think she meant everywhere?”

“She did mention bums, so I think so.”

They both paused to consider the implication of this. Not that the implication wasn’t fairly clear - every part of them would be sparkling under the studio lights.

“Let’s be sensible about this.” Susan suggested. “It’s going to be much easier if we spread this over each other rather than try to do ourselves. We’re not going to be able to sit down or put our robes back on when we’re covered anyway.”

It had been a long time since anybody other than her husband had touched Susan intimately. There was something rather pleasant about having the cool cream of the make-up gently rubbed into her. Relaxed by the gentle massaging, Susan found even having it rubbed into her breasts and crotch didn’t really trouble her. Only when Juliet asked her to bend over and spread the cheeks of her arse did she protest a little.

“Are you sure we need to cover there?”

“We can check if you prefer, but I’m pretty sure.” Juliet replied. “Have you ever seen a game show contestant who didn’t end up with her back passage broadcast in close-up at some point?”

Susan bent over and pulled her cheeks apart. Last year, for one of the quizzes, both of the contestants had needed to keep a rolling pin stuffed up their rectums to avoid sudden death. She tried not to think what that would be like in front of an audience of millions.

This story is a fantasy, set in another place, with only the slightest passing nod to our reality as it’s glimpsed on a distant horizon. If this isn’t immediately apparent to you, I strongly suggest you seek urgent psychiatric care.