This is a fantasy story. It has no basis in reality. Even the names of the
characters are made up and have no relevance to anyone. It is for adult
readers only, of legal age, and deals with domination and submission of a
non consenting type. So don't read it if you are offended by this subject
matter or not an adult of legal age.




                           "'Tis the Season"


                  The finale to "Omens" and "Cornucopia"


                               by Musker



                               (part 4)

                    "Santa Claus is Coming to Town"


Sheila watched in excited surprise while her boss gleefully greeted and
gestured said English gentleman into the room. She knew little of the old
man, who her mentor called Sir Winfred, other than his reputation. But
within seconds of being introduced to him she could readily see that one
part of this most highly regarded man's persona lived up to its notoriety.
He definitely was one jolly old soul.

As the happy cavorting pair slowly walked down the center aisle, Sheila
told the escorting French maid that her services were no longer needed.
The maid with her ever present painted on smiling lips over a bulging
packed mouth preformed her ritual curtsy before a superior, turned and
left. The echo of her stiletto heels complimenting nicely the sway of her
petticoated fanny, as she minced down the hallway, on her way to her
next subservient duty.

After the door was closed, Sheila turned and saw the mixed couple still in
a boisterous conversation, as they stood casually at the end of the aisle.
They were so into one another's lives that they were completely oblivious
to the two fetching French maids standing off to the side of them. The well
trained maids continued to stand at attention, holding their serving trays
motionless in front of them and both were as silent as church mouses.

Even the two soon to be pony girls, looking like erotic pale statues and
only making the faintest of lamentations over the loss of their precious
long feminine locks, did not catch their fascination. They just kept on 
talking and laughing, so pleased to be hearing the favorable developments
in one another's lives.

Then the topic of business came to light and their generous gaiety was
slowly replaced by a less informal, and more sobering atmosphere. That's
when Sheila moved in closer to these two successful business people to
try and hear what they were saying.

They were talking about their stock and trade now. Sir Winfred lightly
bragging at how, even in retirement, he was still up to his pure white
whiskers in having far too much work to do for an old man in the golden
years of his life. He then thanked Judith most profusely and gentlemanly
like for all that she had done for him in the past. For providing him with
good quality merchandise, like the leather harnesses and bridles at the
drop of his dapper looking bowler hat. Not to mention for being an 
excellent source for very obedient slaves, to which he meticulously
transformed into becoming his legendary top rated pony girls. Pony girls
that brought them both amazing profits from Judith's underground 
auction block.

Then Sheila heard her boss reply most hospitably in kind to Sir Winfred,
culminating with a gentle stroke of her delicate hand upon the side of his
snowy white bearded face. Something that made the old boy rise up on his
toes and brought a healthy glow to his now rosy red cheeks.

Right after that, was when her boss asked the happy old man for a favor.
That's also when the entire mood suddenly changed.

"My Dear Madame!" the old man exclaimed with surprise upon hearing Judith's
request. He then turned his amazed eyes to his left, where a bristle headed
Heidi remained on full captivating display. His well experienced gaze ran
back and forth over every inch of this female creature. The result of which,
was easy to read in his face. He saw nothing but a common, every day, run of
the mill animal, of the human persuasion. A totally unconditioned female
slave, who was unrealistically earmarked for a role 'it', and had not in the
least bit been trained.

He began shaking his head in quiet disbelief at what Judith wanted him to
do. He then made an abrupt about face, gave another intense learned scan
at the other inductee, into this fantasy project of his lady friend and
business partner. Again he saw nothing of promise, let alone of substance
to change his mind. The pair of shackled female beasts were so unbelievably
mismatched for what was to be expected of them that he thought it was all
just a farce, a simple joke played on him as a weird expression of American
humor. But when he turned his now happy expression back to Judith, after
realizing that it was all a play of comedy, the look he received back from
her foretold a story, not of comedy, but rather one of tragedy.

"My dear Ms. Davenport, your request of me must certainly be a rouse.
Surely you cannot believe, nay even remotely hope, that such an important
undertaking could possibly be accomplished within the time allowed?
Especially with these two inexplicably low quality rag-a-muffins here."

Heidi and Katie both had the same mixed feeling when they heard the old
man degrade them in such a way. Part of them was happy that they were 
not good enough to be used for something so debasing and humiliating as
pony girls. But another part of them felt unexplainably angered. They knew
they had above averaged full womanly bodies and did their best to keep 
them that way. So to be rejected, on just a simple quick look-see of 
their bodies, by some snobbish old English fart, made them feel very 
antagonistic. Even though the put down was really in their best interest.

"I am very sorry to say this Sir Winfred, but alas, it is true." Judith did
her best to the play the part of a distressed female. And is so doing she
was setting the stage that she hoped would make Sir Winfred take over
the girl's overnight transformation.

"But, but, my dear Lady. Look what you have here to work with!" Sir Winfred
turned to Katie and began making cruel factual remarks as to how unfit she
was for the anointed position of becoming one of his renowned pony girls.
And to make his point even more self-evident he began poking Katie with the
end of his tightly bound umbrella. "You see here Madame, in her flanks and 
hind quarters." 

Katie began yelling, in a most aggressive way, through her gag, from being 
jabbed over and over again in the thighs and hips by this obnoxious and 
arrogant old English blob.

"And here too Madame." Sir Winfred said, as he wiped himself about face 
again. His umbrella flying through the air making a distinct whistling sound
until it came to land with full force, and a resounding crisp loud smack
across the butt cheeks of Heidi.

"MMMMMMMFF!" Shrieked Heidi, when she felt the excruciating pain that
resulted from such an unexpected act of abuse upon her beautiful, womanly
derriere. A shocking pain that was so intense, that it seemed to burn right
through her agonizing soul.

"You see my dear Lady, nothing but fat! Very little muscle development at
all. And not nearly enough for these two misshapen creatures to pull a mere
flower cart, let alone a sleigh loaded with packages."

"Yes, I do see what you mean Sir Winfred, but with all due respects, the
sleigh that they will be pulling will be modified to have rollers under it.
Which means that their burden as draft horses, will be practically 
nonexistent. So their role will really be more akin to that of show ponies
than to one of work horses."

"Show ponies!" Sir Winfred exclaimed and was taken aback, more so now 
with this second surprise.

"My dear, dear Madame. You can't be serious. You'll just have to agree with
me, when I say that these two girls don't have the least bit of physical
attractiveness to be show ponies."

Both bound girls wrinkled their brows, tighten their fists and made a token
effort to escape their degrading naked captivity, upon hearing that priceless
gem of wisdom, commenting on their "lack" of physical appeal. Granted 
they were not the model types, but they were certainly not homely, plain or
down right butt ugly either. They were above average cute college girls in
the prime of their lives. And if the truth be known, in great demand by 
many a handsome guy who caught their seductive feminine curves and 
youthful fresh care free attitude on campus. They most certainly "did"
have appeal, and their female form was not lacking in the least with regards
to sexual attractiveness either. No matter what this pontificating English
blow hard's opinion was.

"Just look at them Ms. Davenport. Their hip to waist ratio is totally out
of control. And look at the shape of their spine. Hardly any curve to it
whatsoever. How are they suppose to project their chests out with pride
and sensuality, with such deplorable posture like that? They are simple a
mess Ms. Davenport. This is something that I would never touch for all 
the tea in China, my dear Lady."

The girls began twitching their bodies anxiously, trying to get free. They
wanted to tell this so-called English expert a thing or two about what a
blatant ass hole he really was. More so than they wanted to escape there
impending humiliation.

Judith sighed upon hearing what her friend had said. Not from what his
words meant about the girls, which was true, but as part of her act as a
poor lost female in dire need of help. She knew the power inherent in
being a fair damsel in distress, especially in what it did to the male
psyche. So she was playing it up to the hilt. It was do or die time for her
secret agenda to come to fruition.

"Yes Sir Winfred, I can see your point on that subject too, but what am I
going to do?" Judith raised her right hand to her eye, as if to wipe awaya
tear that was about to run down her cheek.

Sheila was totally surprised at what she was seeing. Never had she seen her 
boss and mentor look so helpless, and out of control before. Each and every 
time that she worked with Ms. Davenport, she always, ALWAYS, had the 
courage of her convictions and the will to see a job through, no matter what
the cost. But now?

Sir Winfred took a moment. He was all set on walking out and leaving Judith
to work out her own problems. But he just could not bring himself to leave a
friend in need. A very good looking, and cultured, womanly friend at that. So
being your standard soft hearted male, with a superior ego that would solve
any problem at hand, he made the following proposal.

"I have a suggestion Ms. Davenport. What if I flew in two of my very own
pony girls for you to use. They will look perfect and perform for you just
like first class pony girls should. And if I make the call tonight, they can
be here all harnessed and ready to go by the end of the day tomorrow. I
believe that will solve your problem dear Lady."

Judith had her hook in him now. With his suggestion to her, she knew he
felt compassion and empathy for her situation. All she had to do now was to
set the hook and reel him in. And she knew exactly how to do it too.

"Oh you are such a dear, dear, sweet man Sir Winfred." She brushed the 
side of his face with her hand letting her finger tinkle him a bit under his
full chin just behind his beard. An act that brought a bashful smile to his
face and made his cheeks turn crimson red again.

"But Madame Rouso so wanted these particular two to draw her sleigh. 
And I would surely disappoint her to no end, if I substituted another pair,
even if they were of such a prized pair of pony girls as yours would no 
doubt be. I fear that my path is set in stone now Sir Winfred, and I have
no choice but to make due with what I have, even though they are what
they are, substandard and beyond all hope."

The smile of Sir Winfred's face quickly disappeared, as did the color in
his cheeks.

"Madame Rouso?" His soft voice questioned. "You didn't tell me that
Madame Rouso wanted these two, and only these two explicitly, Ms.
Davenport."

"Oh, I am sorry Sir Winfred. They are going to be used for Madame
Rouso's party, that you too are invited to. She is going to ride them into
the party in a grand entrance."

There was a hushed silence that permeated the room now. A silence that
only the lightly straining sounds of the bound and displayed girls made
any dent in.

Sir Winfred began staring at Heidi, but not really seeing her. He did so
for a few seconds, that seemed like hours to Judith, as she eagerly awaited 
the response that was now only moments away. She knew that Sir Winfred
had a childhood crush on Madame Rouso, and would practically do anything
for her, to get her attention. So that by dropping her name like she did, she 
was actually setting the hook that she had on him.

"All right Ms. Davenport." Sir Winfred said in a solid voice, that stood the
test of time. "I'll do it, but on two conditions," he added in the same bold
tone, that reflected the British virtue of perseverance, until the task was
done.

Judith looked at him steadfast. His words told her that she had succeeded
in her goal, and all that remained was some non-consequential formalities,
the proverbial few loose ends to be tie up if you will. Which she knew was
the hallmark of all properly raised English gentlemen.

"Anything Sir Winfred!" Judith uttered with her elated eyes focused
squarely on his.

"I will make these two 'grossly' less than desirable creatures into the best
pony girls that I can, BUT! I must have and I further more 'DEMAND' 
complete autonomy. I will do it my way, and 'only' my way. My word on
any issue is the final word. Agreed?"

"Of course Sir Winfred." Judith said, with as much assurance as she could.
She did not like the idea that she would have no say in this project. But
given that it was Sir Winfred who was in charge, she knew the results
would be most acceptable.

"The second condition is that I need a liaison. I need someone to act as a
buffer between myself, and what I need from your people. I do not wish to
spend my precious time and energy hunting down people, or dealing with
certain attitudes that what I want is impossible. I want what I want, and I
want it when I want it! All my time and effort will have to go into these
two pitiful female's transformation, and I will have very little left for the
natural fan fair of politicking my needs. So, I will need an in-between 
person to listen to what I want, and then go out and get it! Agreed?"

Judith had to think about this one. Not that she couldn't fulfil Sir 
Winfred's wishes, but who would be capable of dealing with such a
creative man as he was, and his eccentricities at times, in a most diplomatic
way. She new how dogmatic and inpatient he could be at times, not unlike
her when she was in the thick of artistic creation. Thus after thinking for a
few minutes she finally came up with one able bodied person, perfect for
the job.

"Agreed Sir Winfred! And if you find her acceptable, I would be pleased to
present to you, your liaison. Sheila here is my very own assistant, and more
than capable of performing the task that you have planned for her. I vouch
for her myself. To her tenacity, to her high regard for authority, and to her
over all love of the genre."

Sheila was stunned to hear what her boss and mentor just said about her.
It took her a good minute, for her to break out of her trace like high, from 
being presented like that to a person whom she also admired from afar.
Then she took two steps forward, to where she was now standing right 
next to her famed teacher, and to where Sir Winfred could see her in all
of her glory.

But Sir Winfred was not one to accept token praise on anyone's word only.
Thus he gave Sheila a once over with his critical eye and expressionless
face, before turning his gaze back to Judith. "She will be acceptable."
was all that he said.

"Now if you would be so kind to get me a coat rack, I can begin." And with
that Sir Winfred took his bowler hat and placed it on the head of Katie. An
act that covered the vast majority of her head going down to about an inch
past her ears. The shiny satin like material, that lined the inside of the
hat, rested sedately on the minute hairs that still remained on top of her
head, while the front, velvety smooth brim, was perched passively upon the
tip of her petite nose. The only thing Katie could see from looking down over
her cheeks, was a small piece of the floor, and some light that came in from 
under the brim of the hat.

The next thing that Katie felt, was some sort of heavy cloth being draped 
over her back, such that some of it hung over on each of her sides. She
reasoned that it must have been the old man's coat that he placed 
attentively over her back like it was.

'Why bother getting a coat rack when you could use me for one!' Katie
said to herself, in a sarcastic tone that only her mind could hear. Then her
disgruntled feeling turned to one of alarm, when she felt a pair of rough
hands begin to spread her butt cheeks apart, followed by a stick like thing
being worked in between them, and along its natural, vertical path. 
Finally, she felt her butt cheeks being released. It took her only a moment
to realize that the crack of her ass was now being used to hold Sir
Winfred's umbrella in place.

Katie had to fight back the tears of how humiliated she felt in being used
like some common piece of furniture. A feeling that was made all the more
worse because of her darken solitude, caused by the oversized hat. But she
still had the use of her ears, although even her hearing had been dampened
down a bit, due to the same damned hat. But if she concentrated really hard,
and listened very carefully, she could still make out a good deal of what
was going on around her. The first of which was the voice of Ms. 
Davenport speaking on the phone.

"Trixie, send a coat rack to the preparation room. Good, thank you. The
coat rack will be here in a few minutes Sir Winfred. In the mean time, 
would you care to look at what Madame Rouso wanted in her pony girls 
as well as some ideas that I had too?" Judith was eager to show her friend
and business partner some of her ideas. For to receive some positive 
feedback from such a well know entity in the genre of pony girls, would
definitely feed her ego. Something everyone could use now and then.

"Of course my dear." The old man said, as he began walking around the
work station, while at the same time rolling up his sleeves, ready to get
started as soon as possible.

Sheila too was in motion. Except she was walking in the opposite direction
of her new mentor and teacher. She had just made some adjustments to the
control mechanisms that held Heidi's right leg in place. Before, Heidi was
on all fours, with both of her legs firmly clamped to the table. Now, her 
right leg was raised off of the table, an appreciable distance, by those same
two clamps, until she looked like a male dog about to urinate on the side of a
tree. A position that was not at all comfortable nor dignified for poor Heidi.

Sheila then walked over to the maid who had the clippers on her tray, and
removed a coffee cup with a stubby wooden handle sticking out of it. She
grasped the handle and began using it to vigorously mix the contents
inside it. It didn't take long before the right consistency was created and
Sheila removed the stubby handled brush from the shaving mug and began
smearing the white foamy contents all over Heidi's pubic hairs.

Heidi could feel the warmth of the lather being spread so delicately by the
soft bristled brush, all over her pussy. An act that made her feel both
sensuously aroused, yet thoroughly degraded at the same time. She tried her
best to move away, or disown her increasing erotic sensitivity, but she was
nothing more than captured prey now. She was totally unable to escape the
mechanical grasp, that held her firmly to the table and her leg in the air,
or to stop the experienced advances of a merciless hungry lesbian at her 
hedonistic task either.

It was very hard for Sheila too. Her eager mind wanted to absorb 
everything that Ms. Davenport was telling Sir Winfred. About how she
planned on using the girls own hair to make their pony tails with. What
she had in mind for a body harness, was to keep the girls arms folded on
top of one another, behind their backs, wrists to elbows. And the type of
bridles and bits that she thought might work best on them. But Sheila's 
lusting urges wanted equal time as well. 

She was about to shave the crotch hairs of a very good looking young
woman. A bound, unwilling woman at that, something that excited her
lesbian cravings and dominating desires to no end. It was lucky for
both Heidi and Sheila, that a safety razor was on the serving tray 
instead of a straight razor, or else a nick or two would have been hard
pressed from happening. As the first long slow cut was made on the 
farthest edge of the snow white covered mound, a soft, barely heard,
whimpering sound accompanied every inch of it, in its delightful
feminine controlled travel.

The shaving process, as well as the background conversation, went on for
several minutes. Long, emotionally agonizing minutes for Heidi, and Sheila
too. Being the mounted and display artifact, of a kinky perverted lust that
Heidi was, she could do nothing to counteract her totally forced upon
subjugated situation. Nothing save for one thing, to keep from responding
erotically to the sexual stimulation by her female barber. It wasn't the 
warmth of the shaving cream nor the feel of the safety razor slowly being
moved up and down, and all around her pussy area, that made it so tough 
for her, although they were of some notable concern. It was the feel of that
damned girl's fingers, as they glided around the very same path that the
razor plowed through, when checking to insure a good clean cut. It was 
also the way that they lingered in certain spots, up and down her labia lips
and especially around her clitoral hood, gathering in some creamy foam in
the process, and just barely touching her there, so gently, around and 
around and around, feeling for the faintest of hairs but only finding smooth,
sensitive skin in the process. That is what made it all so distressing for
the poor, aroused Heidi.

For Sheila however, it was the inability to be in two places at the same time.
Her spirit longed to be there, right in the thick of it, with her two mentors, as
Judith discussed in detail the upcoming transformation. While at the same
time she had to make sure that she did an excellent job of shaving the girl's
pussy. A task that was not without its own interesting appeal. If it wasn't 
for this on going tactile sensation, that was literally driving Sheila up the 
wall with entranced fascination, then that first look at a beautiful, youthful,
denuded pussy, that beckoned her to play with it, was definitely a major
distraction all of its own.

But when Sheila made the final pass, with a soft damp towel, to remove the
last bit of white foam from the newly revealed feminine symbol of pure
erotic glory, she did feel a little sad in the process.

Quite the opposite of what Heidi felt. That insatiable, inciting hand was
now gone. So now she could stop fighting the constant building urge to
give in to the desires of her flesh, and let those erotic feelings slowly 
dissipate from her being.

As Heidi glided effortless down from one intense emotional state, another
was waiting patiently for her in the wings, embarrassment. She was still
positioned like a dog taking a piss, so as to display her newly shaved
pussy to anyone wishing to take a good, long look. So how could she not
feel her face burning from complete humiliation. But before the one feeling
could be replaced by the other, "fear" took center stage in her conscious
awareness.

For what she had only thought was the end of her denigrated journey, in 
that there was nothing that they could do to her, to make her feel any worse
than she already did, she found to be wrong, and soon discovered a new 
depth to her turmoil. It started as soon as Sheila began brushing more of 
that sweet smelling shaving cream on the top of her head.

Heidi closed her distraught eyes in disbelief. 'How could they be so cruel?'
she thought to herself. It was one thing to have her long, beautiful hair
cut down to the very nubs, like a shorn sheep, but to have whatever hopeful
prospects that had be left behind, scalped clean off, until her head looked
like a shiny billiard ball, was beyond human reason to accept. But Heidi
was so done in by what she had experienced so far, that all she had left in
her was a single tear, that ran down the side of her cheek. It was a simple
act of quiet respect, to the loss of something that she held so near and dear
to her pretty feminine heart.

Sheila was too busy trying to catch a peek at what was transpiring on
the other side of the work station, for her to take much interest in Heidi's
tear of woe. In fact, when she did see it, she simply wiped it off with the
side of her hand, without any regard as to how much emotional misery was
contained inside of it. Again she was too busy with the task at hand, and
shaving the girl's head was just that, a task. Sheila had little sexual
interest in creating a bald headed female. Oh it had its amusing qualities
and all. It even gave her a little boost to her dominating spirit, to be the
instrument of the girl's dehumanization. But for all practical purposes, it
was nothing more than a job. But a job to do well nevertheless!

When Sheila had Heidi's head all lathered up, she looked like she was 
wearing some kind of weird white lumpy scull cap, and she was made to look
all the more funny by having two foamy lines now right where her eyebrows
where. Those same two eyebrows that Heidi spent the longest time trimming,
contouring and shaping, until they gave her the perfect look that she had
wanted, all nice and symmetrical. But they didn't last long, for they were
the first to go. Two quick swipes of the safety razor and those two
expressive ached brows were no more. Only boring barren skin remained behind.

Sheila had just started on Heidi's head when she heard Ms. Davenport's voice
in a louder tone, reflecting a conversation that was coming to an end.

"And I believe that's about it Sir Winfred." Again Judith was eager to hear
what the experienced old man had to say, which up to now had been nothing
but a series of grunts and nods of his head. He simply took it all in without
a single comment.

"I see. Well my dear you do have some very good ideas, but again, I must
reiterate that I must have the final say in how these girls are to be made
over. No one else."

Judith saw it in his eyes, even though his words said otherwise. It was
just his way, that's all, and at his age, and with his reputation, very
little stood in his way of getting exactly what he wanted. Not that he was
a conceited egomaniac, with delusions of grandeur, it was simply that he
thought of himself as an artist, and what he did to young women, as an
expression of that art. Not much different from her own way of thinking in
a way.

They were both highly gifted and talented people who chosen a certain
off-of-the-center media to practice their unique artistry on. Where her art
form was varied and broad, his was focused and detailed. Opposite faces
of the same coin, with curious personalities destined to never share the
same lime light, and since she was the one in need of help, she decided
that discretion was the better part of valor. She would accept whatever Sir
Winfred came up with. After all, too many cooks can spoil the broth.

"Of course Sir Winfred. Whatever you wish to do will be fine with me." she
said with a gentle smile. "Feel free to use my terminal for whatever you
wish, and you have Sheila here to do your bidding. I'll be dropping by later
to see how things are progressing, and to see if you need anything out of the
ordinary. And with that my dear friend, I bid you good luck." Judith then
extended her hand out in good will.

Sir Winfred took her hand in his and warmly embraced it with his other,
before saying, "Don't worry my dear. I will make them into the finest pony
girls humanly possible. A prized pair that you and Madame Rouso will be
proud of."

Judith returned Sir Winfred's tender gesture with an affectionate caress of
her hand on the side of his cheek. Then she parted his company.

Sir Winfred took a seat at the terminal while Judith walked around to where
Sheila was briskly shaving the tiny hairs off the soon to be pony girl's
shiny, bald head.

"Sheila," Judith said in a hushed voice, not wishing to disturb her friend
who was already working hard at the keyboard. "You have a wonderful
opportunity before you. Do what he says, but learn as much as you can. He is
a Master at his trade, and you can learn a lot from him, in a very short
time."

"Yes Ma'am." Sheila said, with a hint of added nervousness to her already
excited state.

"Don't worry dear, you will do just fine. Just do what Sir Winfred asks of
you, and take good care of Jasmine and ...  My goodness! We completely
forgot to name the other one. Well, I'll leave that up to you dear. See you
in a little while. Good luck. OH! You are doing an excellent job in shaving
her Sheila. This one really has a nice pussy now, with all that nasty hair
gone. I hope Sir Winfred gives due consideration to showing it off." Judith
then gave Sheila a little hug and headed out of the door. She was so 
confident in the combined abilities of both Sir Winfred and Sheila, that 
she exited the room without taking a second look.

Judith's mind was already on the next item on her virtually endless list of
people to see, as soon as was outside of the door. She was walking down the
same corridor as before, and when she arrived at the foyer, she was a bit
startled to see that Trixie wasn't there. In fact, if it wasn't for the
cleaning crew, the foyer itself would have been completely deserted. She took
a quick look at her watch and saw that it was well into the evening. Way 
beyond the normal work day, even for those few dedicated souls who put
in a few more hours, because they loved it so. But she knew there would be
one certain person left around, working feverishly into the dark hours of
the night. So she made a quick mental change in her itinerary, and put The
Count at the head of her list for tonight.

Judith could never forget such a fine and attractive gentleman as The
Count. He was a tall, devilishly handsome man, with dark piercing eyes,
and rich wavy black hair, with just a touch of gray at the temples. There 
were many a time that Judith yearned to run her fingers through that 
luscious, dense mane of his, as a prelude to a night of hot wanton passion.
Only to have her fantasy dissolve into nothingness, in the light of rational
thought as to who he really was.

He was Count Guido Corsini, a man descended of royal Italian ancestry. A
highly educated man, of culture, social importance, and financial wealth. He
also had a voice and mannerisms that made Judith's heart melt like butter on
a hot grill. But if the obvious class difference was not enough to keep
Judith's hands out of the aristocrat's cookie jar, then the fact that he was
married surely did. He was married to a rich and powerful wife, who was known
to deal unkindly with women who dared take even a slightest nibble, of what
was hers and hers alone. But it was the fantasy of what one could not have,
or dare have with dyer consequences, that always made this dream so
tantalizing, and mouth watering to contemplate.

A warm feeling began coursing through her body when she remembered their
first meeting. It was a few months back when Madame Rouso introduced him
to her at Madame's estate. Back then, it appeared that Madame had a bit of a
delicate problem of sorts, to which The Count was going to be the solution
thereof. Once Judith found out what The Count's "interesting hobby" was,
and how he was going to use it to solve Madame Rouso's problem, Judith
could not volunteer her services fast enough. It was the mixture of his suave
Italian charm, and his "interesting hobby" that really captured Judith's
attention that one fateful evening.

So, since Judith had an extensive underground work shop with everything The
Count could ask for, including high security and concealment, it was a
natural choice by all three that the "special project" be carried out in the
catacombs of Judith's lair. A decision that immediately gave Judith erotic
goose bumps.

However, when Madame Rouso took Judith off to the side to explain to her
the ramification of dealing with The Count, in anything other than a business
like manner, Judith had a sudden change of heart. Even Madame Rouso had
a healthy respect for a powerful woman moved to madness out of jealous
rage. Something she had to learn the hard way a long time ago.

The news was a bitter pill for Judith to take, especially when she had to
deal with The Count's natural Italian ways on a regular basis. But she saw
the entire event as a kind of test for herself. A test of inner self-control 
and her integrity as a woman who respected the institution of marriage
and of another woman's property, so to speak. Even though that certain
property in question came to her always impeccably dressed in fine
Italian silk suits, that displayed his strapping manly build in the most
flattering way possible, and who wore expensive cologne that
instinctively made her nostrils flare with raw, unbridled, animal cravings.

Oh it was going to be a difficult test for her all right, and that's why she
saw to it that her daily itinerary was full of things to do, places to go and
people to see. This way she could keep her distance from this romantic
Casanova without a problem manifesting itself, from a momentary instant
of weakness on her part. There was also the fact that he was on European
time, which meant that he did most of his work at night, when she, and 
most of her staff were out of his seducing influence. Thus, the vast 
majority of their communications were delegated to disembodied phone
messages, and matter-of- fact e-mails. Something Judith could easily 
deal with.

Now, with the passage of time, The Count's special project had come to an 
end. The unveiling was to be at the same time and place as the Christmas
party, at the Madame's home. Although it would not be the main event.

Judith was so busy for the last couple of months that she never physically
checked on The Count's progress, but she was anxious to see how it all came
out now. Never had she seen such an artist at work. It was amazing as to 
what this man could do with just a simple corset.

So Judith began her walk towards another hallway, that was dedicated to her
research and development staff. She had to take small mincing steps, because
the ever vigilant cleaning staff was well into making the floors, walls and
furniture all spotlessly clean, and their equipment was everywhere. They 
seemed to be the same cleaning crew that had come in to clean her future
pony girls earlier, or so she thought. Given the fact that their unique
distinguishing features as viable human beings were now obliterated by
their tight, head to toe, rubber maids' uniforms, it was impossible to tell
if they really were the same ones or not. And considering that there were
three more of them now, the natural assumption would be that they were a
different group of generic work units this time. Either way, Judith 
successfully transversed the obstacle course, and was well on her way 
down the hall to a much anticipated meeting with The Count.

It only took a few seconds, after rounding a corner, when she heard some
faint music playing. The further she walked on, the louder it got. When she
reached the first door on the left, she knew that it was coming from the 
other side. She stood silent and listened closely to the tune, as it sounded 
very familiar to her. A few seconds later, after she reached way back in the
achieves of her mind, she discovered the answer. She smiled a big and 
wide grin, as her head and body began moving to the beat of the Bee Gees
"Stay'n Alive".

She turned the knob, flung the door open, and began dancing her happy
self straight into the room. She was momentary blinded by the mixture of
darkness and flashing lights, but it wasn't enough to keep her from enjoying
herself. It was like a flash back for her, back to the time when disco was
king, and practically every night club in town was pumping out that hot
grinding beat on their dance floors, which were loaded with young, sweaty,
sexy bodies.

Judith had just about lost herself in the loud driving sound and sparkling
darkness when the music suddenly came to a stop. Followed by the room
being flooded with lights.

"Ms. Davenport?" a young male voice questioned in a surprise shocked tone.
"We, ummmm, we . . . we were just trying her out to see how, ummmm, to see
if it worked and all. If we knew you were coming, we, we would have 
prepared for you, much better, really!" The male voice was a bit taken off
guard. He was a young man, fairly new, someone's cousin or nephew perhaps.
Someone with a knack, or the smarts, to get things done the way Judith
wanted certain 'things' done.

"Oh Harry, don't worry about it. It's fantastic just as it is. You couldn't
have presented your project in a more appropriate light than you did right
now. I am really, honestly, impressed with the results you have reached. Can
you lower her down, so that I can get a better look at her?"

"Of course Ms. Davenport! Right away Ma'am!" The young man in his long
white lab coat and his identically dressed associate, an equally youthful
looking young woman, who was dancing with him prior to Judith's 
appearance, were quickly moving around, almost bumping into one another
as they tried to fulfill their boss' request.

As the large shiny bauble was lowered from the ceiling, Judith could not
help but to be all smiles. Instead of your standard, mirror covered ball,
used in lounges and dance clubs everywhere, was a young woman. She had been
placed in a kind of hanging hogtie, and was covered with small pieces of
mirrored glass.

It was a last minute order from her friend Fransoir in Paris. He had wanted
something special to celebrate Christmas and New Year's Eve with, for his
club. So he sent over Wanda, a very tall, well-endowed, black woman. She
was to be the clay if you would, from which Judith's creative staff were to
mold her into an eye-catching ornament for his club.

Wanda thought she knew what to expect, when she had boarded her plane in
Paris, unencumbered and happy as a lark. She knew she was to be fitted with
some sort of extravagant costume, here in the United States. Then later, when
she was back in Paris, she was to wear it, and model it, for her boss and all of
the patrons at his club come Christmas and New Year's Eve. A combined task
that she was going to be paid a good sum of money for, but it wasn't until
she felt the beginning effects of a sedative, hidden in her drink while
waiting in a room upstairs, in the boutique, that she began to feel that not
all of his plans had been explained to her, as she had thought that it had
been.

At that point, the glittering object ceased its downward path, and remained
hanging at about waist height. There was no discernable movement that could
be seen, except for a gentle sway that encompassed the entire contorted
silhouette.

"Amazing work Harry!" Judith said, with an intense fascination, as she began
walking around the living ornament. "You and your team deserve a lot of
credit for creating such a wonderful object, in such a short time."

The young couple began to smile now, as their once worried looks were
dismissed away by that last positive comment.

"Thank you Ms. Davenport!" they replied in stereo, and it was the only
thing that broke the silence of the room, that had once been bursting with
sound.

"Is she still conscious, or is she drugged and sleeping? She seems so still
and quiet." she asked as her face turned into one of puzzlement, when she
could not make hide nor hair out of the condition of the sizeable young
woman inside.

The young man reached for a small palm sized monitor, and then took it to
show Judith.

"She's alive and well, Ms. Davenport, and she's very much awake. See here
on the screen."

Judith looked at it and saw an outline of a female in Wanda's position on
the screen. It had various points of interest, and marks all over it's body,
as well as some basic information regarding heart rate, respiration, blood
pressure, etc, at the very bottom. It told her that the girl was alive all
right, but that's all.

"How do you know that she isn't asleep, or unconscious, with that thing?"
Judith asked, turning her eyes to the young Harry now.

"Right here, Ms. Davenport, in the upper left-hand corner. This small light
is green, indicating that she is awake. If it were brown, then she would be
asleep." he replied. 

For Harry, what his monitor told him was all that he needed to know. 
However, what he saw in Judith's eyes, was anything but assurance that
what he was showing her was actually so. So he decided to prove his point.

"Here Ms. Davenport, I'll show you." he said, and with that the two moved to
the head part of the object.

The entire object, in its current configuration, was quite large. But then
Wanda was quite a big woman. Not in girth mind you, like one would see in a
jolly old Santa Claus. Wanda was big in other ways, none of which subtracted
one little bit from her arousing female form.

Wanda was, and is, a tall, young woman. Standing some six feet-one in her
bare feet. She was also a lanky girl, with long sinuous arms, and shapely legs
that seemed to go on for miles. She was also big in the chest and butt areas
too, and seemingly enhanced even more so, visually, by her contrasting
narrow waist. All of these unique, and way above average, feminine attributes
added tremendously to her now unusual pretzel like appearance. Wanda was 
just what the doctor had ordered all right, or at least what Fransoir had sent
them.

Judith looked on with a focused curiosity, as Harry manipulated a couple of
small, hidden latches, to remove the face covering. The face covering was
nothing more than a piece of black plastic like substance, molded to fit
Wanda's delicate, feminine features on the inside, while blending those
features into an almost featureless form on the outside, which was covered
by many small mirrors.

As soon as the covering was off, Judith could see that Wanda was indeed 
awake. Her big, beautiful, dark, expressive eyes began to blink and squint,
as they slowly became accustomed to the full brightness of the lighting.
Then they focused on the two people that were in front of her. She had seen
the male many times, but the female she had only seen once before. Before,
when she was a viable human being, and in pleasant conversation with her, 
instead of this thing of distorted physical torment, which forced her into 
complete immobility and silence.

"I must admit Ms. Davenport, I am somewhat worried by the way she looks.
I mean, I know that her position is causing her a little discomfort, but it's
nothing her body can't handle. I examined her before hand extensively, to
see if she could handle what we had in mind. I found her quite limber and
more than capable of remaining in this position for a considerably long
period of time. So I am a bit surprised to see her looking like this,
whenever I take the mask off."

Judith formed a knowing smile in response to this young, and inexperienced
member of her staff, before telling him what it meant.

"Oh my dear Harry. That is not a look of physical distress. It is an
expression of complete disillusionment and beckoning mercy. Obviously she was
never told the truth, as to how extensive her costume was to be, or for how
long she was to wear it. That forlorn look of betrayal and hopelessness is a
common one around here. You will see it often, as well as a few more types,
as your career and education with us continues. It is nothing to worry about
though. Besides, worrying will give you wrinkles and that will make your
young, manly face less attractive to the girls around here." she said as she
nudged him in the arm, while eying over towards his young female assistant.

Harry grinned, while his faced turned a deep red from embarrassment. Judith
smiled a little wider, with an excited little twinkle in her eye from being
aroused by Harry's child like innocence. Wanda shed a tear when her eyes
closed in her forsaken helplessness.

"Now Harry, tell me what you did to her. I am fascinated as to how you got
her so well formed into position and kept her like this without a single
movement or utterance on her part."

Wanda slowly opened her eyes with keen awareness. There was a large gap in
her consciousness, as to exactly how she did get this way, and maybe, just
maybe, the information she could learn would help her in possibly escaping
her current plight. If not now, then soon. Real soon!

"Of course Ms. Davenport. Well, ummm, as you know, once the girl lost
consciousness, from the sedative in her tea, we immediately brought her down
here to the lab on a gurney."

'I am under the boutique, like in a basement of some sort, where there
is this science lab, or something like that.' Wanda thought to herself, as
her eyes moved back and forth in their sockets, trying to take in  as much 
of the surrounding area in as possible. Knowing that she was under the
boutique gave her a sense of familiarity and hope. Once she was free from
her confinement, it shouldn't be too hard to find a stairway to the first
floor, and then to freedom. Again, she listened closely as she began to feel
a little optimism begin to percolate into her otherwise hopeless spirit.

"And in the lab we removed all of her clothes and threw them away."

'No! Not my clothes. Not my beautiful expensive pants suit, and sexy
underwear, all the way from France. Do they have any idea how hard it is to
find good clothes, stylish clothes, that fits a tall, busty woman like myself.
Now when I escape, I'll have to wear something that won't fit me at all, and
will probably make me look stupid wearing it, when I call for help. Damn
them!' Wanda was angry, but not a single sound could be heard of it. All that
could be seen was the furrowing of her brow. Something that Harry picked up
on right away, but remembering what Ms. Davenport told him, he completely
ignored it.

"Then I gave her a through physical exam, checking her vital signs,
flexibility and orifices for size for when we tubed her. Oh, and Dana here," 
he smiled when he looked over to his ever present female assistant, "she 
began the process of removing the girl's body hair. All of it, including her 
pubic hair, as well as the hair on the top of her head, and as you can see,
even her eye brows as well. All gone! Then her skin was treated with a
chemical to keep it hairless for the next six months."

'They did WHAT?' Wanda could not believe what she just heard. She had been
physically violated, just about as much as any woman could be. She had been
stripped naked against her will. Examined in some kind of perverted doctor's
examination without her consent. Then, every last one of her luscious black 
hairs had been taken from her, as if she was infected with an army of lice.
And now she would be forced to remain hairless, like a plucked chicken for
the next SIX WHOLE MONTHS! Where in the hell was she? Who are these sick
people? And what did he say about 'tubing her'?

"As you can see from her face, the tube going into her mouth reach all of the
way down into her stomach. This is the feeding tube. We used one of the 
liquid food concentrates, created by your staff, as a means of forced feeding
her. A simple large syringe is used to inject the green slurry, straight into
her belly. It doesn't taste very good, but it is loaded with everything her
body needs to stay healthy. We figured that she only needs to be fed once a
day, given her otherwise restricted existence."

'Feeding tubes! How long am I expected to stay like this?'

"The tube that you see there hanging free inside of her nostrils is for her
breathing. It goes down her throat, pass her larynx, and ends just above
where the main bronchial tube splits into two, one for each of her lungs. The
breathing and feeding tubes are the only reason that she is unable to make any
sound. Since no air is allowed past her voice box, there can be no sounds. 
Also, we have placed a molded, solid rubber insert, a kind of custom fitted
wedge if you will, into her mouth and fastened it around her teeth to keep her
mouth open and her lower jaw in place. This prevents her from trying to gnaw
at the feeding tube that runs right through the middle of it. We knew we would
have a drooling problem with her mouth rigged up like this. So we asked one 
of your doctors what we could do. He recommend that we add a small quantity
of a special drug to her food, that keeps her from salivating as much. It
doesn't dry her out completely. It just keeps her mouth slightly moist without
the excess. Which will make the removal of said items fairly simple. Whenever
that might be."

'Oh my gosh! Are these people CRAZY! A breathing tube? Mouth guard? I
can't even move my tongue let alone my jaw. I feel like a lab rat in a mad 
scientist' nightmare! This is so extreme! This can't be happening to me! It
just CAN'T!'

"Her derriere is similarly tubed, with an inflatable bladder, used to secure
it in place via the sphincter opening. The bladder seals it up very well
indeed, as we tested it out by giving her several colonics to clean her out
while she was asleep. Since her food was developed for maximum 
absorption into her system, there should be practically no waste problem,
but just in case, we installed a removable cap on the end of the tube that
is wedged and hidden between her butt cheeks, if the need arrives to flush
her out again, say if the customer wishes to keep her this way for any real
extended period of time. Again, her urethra was handled in much the same
way, except that we figured she would have to be drained at least once a 
day though, probably at the same time that she is fed."

'WHAT! No wonder my bung hole feels like someone shoved a fence post
up it. And what did he mean by 'an extended period of time'? I was being
paid to model 'a costume' for two separate dates ONLY!'

"Her pussy area is equipped with a deluxe vibrating dildo on command, but
we have also used that same dildo to house a central processing unit for data
collection of all of the sensors on her body and it has an antenna to send
that data, via radio waves, to this hand held remote control unit. To make it
a little more enjoyable for both the customer and the girl, we added a little
vibrating sensor that sticks right over her clitoral hood."

"How do you control them from the hand held unit Harry?" she asked.

Up to now, Judith had been an avid listener. The human engineering part
always captured her attention. But as soon as Harry mentioned a way to 
stimulate the girl's sex button, she had to take a more active role in this 
kinky tour.

"Just push here and here, and then turn this button clockwise like so and
 then . . . ."

"Oh look! Did you see how wide the girl's eye went, when I increased her
clit massager?"

"Yes I did Ms. Davenport! And if you look at the readings on the monitor
you can see how it is effecting the rest of her body as well."

"Oh this is such a wonderful toy. I know Fransoir is just going to love it!"
she said, then took a quick look at her watch, and decided to cut her fun
time short. She handed the unit back to Harry, and then pointed to the face
mask that was still in his hand.

"Ok Harry, tell me about this substance that you are using on her to keep her
in this impressive position. It doesn't seem familiar to me."

Wanda was slowly coming down from her instant skyrocketing surge
which had emanated from the most private and sensitive part of her body.
It took her by complete surprise when it happened, and it was so intense
that her total awareness was focused in that one monumental wave of 
sexual arousal that captured her entire being. A wave that she had no 
recourse for, but to ride to its natural end. An end that was sadly absent
of an orgasm though, much to her further torment.

"The material is something Dana and I have been working on for quite 
awhile and only now have we had a good chance to show off. It's a hybrid
of sorts and comes in a form similar to gelatinous paint. It goes on thick 
with a stiff brush, where it then automatically reaches its own uniform
thickness of about an eighth of an inch. As it dries it takes on the thread
like cross hatching matrix of a tightly woven cloth. The more it dries the
harder it becomes, until it sets up completely, and is twice as hard and 
rigid as fiberglass. In fact, it's basically a form of fiberglass, without
all of the messy, and smelly, multi-step hassles. And it is very bio friendly
too, which means that it can be used right over bare skin, just like with
this girl. The tiny web like structure allows the skin to breathe through
it and it won't stick to the skin either. So all we had to do was to put the 
girl into a hogtie, by attaching her wrists and ankle cuffs to a length of
bar behind her back. Pull up on the bar until she was in the desired 
spread knees and arched ball like shape, while still letting the vast 
majority of her body weight rest on her belly. Then we began coating 
her with the substance. We thought black was a good mute background
color for the desired effect. Once her main torso and limbs were covered
and the substance hardened, we removed the cuffs and finished up with 
her feet, hands, stomach and head. When all of that was done, we began
the arduous task of gluing the mirrors to her carapace shell. We used 
small round mirrors because they maintained a uniform consistency, 
even around the many sharp curving surfaces of her body, and thus the
integrity of her full womanly form was still maintained. The final step
was to attach a more fashionable brass rod to her wrists and ankles,
again so that she could be mounted to a ceiling hook or some other
permanent hoist mechanism."

"Amazing Harry! But wouldn't her stressed physical condition cause
circulation problems? I know that you checked her for flexibility and
such, but still, if she is to be like this for any length of time, then that
is going to be a problem, correct?"

Wanda mentally echoed the older woman's concern as she could begin 
to feel a certain discomfort in her muscles and limbs from being stretched
so unnaturally. Again she tried to use her strength to break free from her
insect in amber like situation. But again nothing happened. Not even a
little nudge, sway or give of her hard as nails and unyielding second skin.

"Ah yes! Good question Ms. Davenport. You see here, on the display, the
outline of the girl and all these dark lights at discrete area's on her body?"

"Yes."

"These are a combination of micro sensors and electrode stimulators. They
not only send information about the girl's body to the central processing unit
stuck inside of her pussy, but they also send out mild electrical shocks when
they turn yellow. The shock stimulates the underlying muscles, to prevent
atrophy from setting in and it also helps to keep the blood moving along so
no fluids build up in any one place."

"My goodness Harry, you and Dana have thought of everything. Well done my
dears, Well Done!"

Wanda simply could not believe her ears. It seemed like everything and
anything that could be done to her, had been done. Everything to keep her
alive, and in a healthy state of being, was now under THEIR control. She
could do nothing! She was unable to escape, to move, not even her little 
toe, because THEY wanted her to remain fixed in position, like some double
jointed circus acrobat, who could fly from the air with the greatest of ease.
She had to eat what THEY gave her, and when. She could not speak, yell 
or even make the slightest of sounds in order to communicate her wants or
needs to THEM, like any normal human being could. She couldn't even do
the most private and personal of tasks, like expelling her own waste, without
THEM first removing a plug so that she could.

She was nothing but a totally controlled object to be used for someone's
cruel and perverted pleasure. And that someone was that man in Paris. The
man whom she had trusted. Who had promised her everything under the sun,
but told her nothing but lies. He told her whatever she wanted to hear, in
order to get her to come here to be fitted for something fantastic and
beautiful. Something that was going to make her the center of attention at
his night club. Something so exotic and wonderful, that people would come
from all around to see her, and lust after her, as she displayed herself for
all to see, on both Christmas and New Years Eve. Oh how she was suckered into
this, and when she did get out of this mirrored cocoon, Fransoir would pay
dearly for his betrayal of her loyalty. But THEY never said when that would
be.

"So when will she be able to go, Harry?"

Harry looked over at Dana and they both began to make facial expressions,
back and forth, as if they were communicating in some secrete code. It only
lasted for a few seconds, before Harry quickly answered Judith's question.

"Tonight Ms. Davenport. The crate that she will be packed in, is currently
being assembled as we speak. The girl has already been given an extra
helping of food concentrate, so she will be well fed for the day or so
journey. The deluxe dildo has a power pack in it that automatically 
recharges itself, from the electrochemical gradient, created from when her
pussy juices flow around the metal of the dildo. Which means that if the
power level runs below a certain threshold, the unit begins stimulating her
pussy area to orgasm. The longer she remains aroused the more recharging
is done. Thus her orgasm will be delayed as long as possible, until the unit
is fully charged. We calculated that the cycle will repeat itself once every
six hours and last for at least thirty to forty five minutes."

"Once again Harry, you and your lady friend have surprised me with your
creative inventiveness. Well Done!"

Wanda too was surprised from what she had just heard. 'With a long delayed
orgasm every six hours, what will that do to me when I'm finally able to get
out of here?'

As both Harry and Judith walked back over to the head of the sparkling,
human shaped ornament, for him to put the mirror covered mask back on,
Judith asked one more question.

"Harry, how long?" as she pointed to the concerned looking face of the
black girl trapped inside of the ingenious commercial entertainment object.

Harry took a moment to look at the girl's face. He did not see the 
emotional turmoil in her eyes, for he was in deep concentration, as if 
trying to figure out a mathematical equation.

"Well, our preliminary tests show that the fiberglass material will not
break down for at least six months, and then only slowly taking up to a
year before it begins to crack seriously. But this project was designed for
what the customer wanted, and that was for about a week."

'Oh my god! I am going to be held captive in this thing for a week! Damn it
Fransoir! I'm gonna kick your ass all over France when I get out of here!'

"But then again. Considering all the parameters as to how extensive the
entire enclosure is. I mean, it's practically an environmental suit. The
true weakest link is in how long the food concentrate will last. And in
relation to that, I got a little carried away in having it made for us,
which means I made a little more than what was needed."

'Oh no. Not more than a week. Please, no more than two weeks. It can't be
more than two weeks. If it's more than two weeks and all those delayed
orgasm's and body shocks, I'll be nothing more than a twitching sex crazed
crazy person when I get out. Please, oh PLEASE, not more than two weeks!'

"And since we have no use for the excess. We will just ship it all to the
customer. A kind of extra bonus if you will."

"Yes I see, but how long Harry"

"Oh, I'm sorry Ms. Davenport. It should last about two . . ." A loud buzzer
sounded, which was to notify anyone in the outer lab that the phone was
ringing in the inner office. It also made it hard for Judith to hear the end
of Harry's answer. But Wanda thought she heard correctly and to her
overwhelming elation.

'Oh thank you, Thank You, THANK YOU! I know the next two weeks 
will be hard and all. But I can do it. I know I can! Then my dear Fransoir,
then . . .'

"Was that two weeks Harry?" Judith asked her young staff member to make
sure she heard correctly.

"Oh no Ms. Davenport, two months."

And then Harry replaced the mask over the horrified staring eyes of the girl.
He fastened the four hidden latches to hold the mirror cover hard piece of
black modified fiberglass in place.

Wanda's entire world was focused into what she could hear and see now. 
And even that, her sight, was severely limited by the two small one way
mirrors that were placed directly in front of her eyes giving her a dim 
tunnel view of everything. The only other stimulus to her encapsulated
existence was the occasional electrical shocks to keep her body from 
degenerating into a mass of jell-o and the unique way to maintain power
in her control unit. Power from repeatedly prolonged sexual vibrations
with, or without a well deserved orgasm at the end of it. It was just 
enough to keep her physically healthy for the next week to two months.
Mentally was another story all together, and as far as Judith and her 
staff were concerned, that was up to Fransoir.

"Harry, Dana, you both did an excellent job! I will let Fransoir know that
his shiny new piece of night club decor will be in the mail tonight and an
operations manual to go along with it. A truly wonderful job you two.
Congratulations!"

With that Judith shook the hands of the young couple, congratulating them
one last time on such an outstanding outcome. Then she headed out the door.

As Judith walked down the hallway, there was a spring in her step. She 
seemed to be riding on a natural high, and why not! Everything was working
out so well. She had Madame Rouso's much needed pony girls. She had Sir
Winfred personally managing the two girls transformation. A special
customer in France was about to receive an item that would literally throw
him for a loop, and now she was about to check on a man, and his special
project, that literally made her toes curl with lust.

Judith began walking slowly to the closed door. She could feel her heart
begin to pound in her chest in anxious anticipation. Her hand began to
tremble, as she reached for the knob. She stopped for moment, to try to
get a hold of herself, to shake off this stupid, school girl reaction. 'I'm
an adult woman for Christ sakes.' she exclaimed to herself. Then she
reminded herself over and over again, about his jealously mad wife, and
how no man was worth that. When she finally believed that she had
maximum control over her yearning desires, she opened the door.

The first thing that she saw was Sabrina. A sight that completely washed
away any girlish longings that she had for The Count. So shocking was 
the sight, that she just could not believe that such a "thing" was even 
possible. She received a second shock that made her jump, when she 
heard The Count's heavy Italian voice up close, in her right ear.

"So Ms. Davenport, I see that my little creation has caught your eye. Two
beautiful, and mesmerizing eyes, I might add. Eyes so indwell with the
lusting spirit of life, that simply gazing upon them has awaken the hungry
beast in me."

Was it hearing those words of an impending, romantic seduction or the
feeling of his hot breath upon the sensitive skin of her neck, when he
spoke them, that caused her to go weak in the knees. Whatever it was,
she found herself having to reinforce her conscious decision to stay
aloof of his cultured charm, by concentrating on the subject before her.

"Would you my dear, attractive, intoxicating lady, care to be given a
personal guided tour of the new Sabrina?"

And before Judith could give The Count a simple nod of affirmation, she
felt him place his large, powerful hand along the far side of her svelte,
feminine waist and gently, but firmly, pull her close to him. She tried, or
so she believed that she had, to keep from being drawn further into that
intimate lover's embrace, as her right hand went up to stop, what she 
knew was coming next, but her cold trembling hand was met by his warm
caressing one, and instantly together, as if in a prelude to a dance, he 
guided her forward to where Sabrina stood, upon her small platform, like 
a doll on a display stand.

Sabrina, a once upon a time beautiful and fine figure of a young woman, 
But now, due to the well practiced dark art form of The Count, had become 
an object of unspeakable perverted passion. Human, yes, but not by much.

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Part 5 coming soon.

The story of Cont Guido Corsini and his project, Sabrina.

Stay tuned!