Author’s note:
This is an almost stand-alone tale, but if you are looking for explanations, some can be found in Book 2. Eggy narrates but doesn’t appear. It takes place in a galaxy far far away called Wisconsin in the middle latter half of the 20th century as the Emperor’s forces gather to attack the rebel forces on Hoth, the ice planet.
The Adventures of Eggy Remixed — BOOK 3 — NEW EXPERIENCES, INTERLUDES AND DISTRACTIONS
E2 — Interlude 2 — Flash Forward — The Egg’s Arrival + 4 Months — Doll In The Mall
I want to tell you now of a day about a third of a solar cycle after I introduced myself to the silly, horny apes. It’s proof that you can find all sorts of amusement by winding them up and watching them go.
Will and Marc carried the stiff girl into the mall a little over half-an-hour before it opened. There are few cars in the staff lot, it’ll be twenty minutes or so before the lot is busy. No merchant at the Friendly Badger Mall was very excited in this dead time between Back-to-School sales and the Christmas rush. One of the anchor stores was having a big sale, which would generate traffic later, but that was at the far side of the building.
They had posed her with arms out, elbows bent, fingers spread in a classic mannequin pose in case they are seen. A rough scratchy mover’s blanket is tied with bungee cables around her naked form, which keeps falling open showing her flopping tits or her open legs, depending on what side is up. It’s a chilly early fall morning, despite her frozen state she has goose-bumps and her nipples are engorged and erect from the cold.
They get through the delivery doors and into Andy’s shop without being seen, more by luck than design.
“You sure Andy isn’t in today?” Will asks for the hundredth time.
“Naw, like I told you he and Vicky are going down to meet his mom and step-dad in Chicago, I got the store for 2 days. We’re not going to leave her up that long?”
“She’ll revert at midnight no matter what. Unless she cums first.”
There is a look of fear in her eyes at the thought of being stuck like this all day. She’s sorry now that she broke her promise to Will, but this is a little too much punishment. It seemed funny at the time and now she was paying for it.
Will takes the box with her butt plug from his jacket pocket, the one that vibrates, “I brought this, we’ll use it later to free her. I don’t want to be too close when she goes off.”
A real mannequin stands in the side window where it greets people coming in a minor secondary-sized mall door from outside by the employee parking. It’s draped with scarves, a gypsy skirt and cheap brightly colored East-Indian blouse which opens at the front racily showing a nipple-less plastic tit. It’s up on a small platform inset into the room, located at the back of the store diagonal from the shop entrance off the main hall corridor. The counter with the till at the door allows one clerk to monitor customers coming and going while also seeing across the room to where she will be placed.
The side windows runs floor to ceiling, and they are split by a square support column that has had full length mirrors set into it so the goods are doubly displayed to those coming in and going out through the closest of the Western mall entrances. As this is a bit of a backwater—only a chartered accountant and a +14 years old video and pinball arcade are further down the hall towards the outside door—the rent is reasonable yet Andy’s customers know where to find him and it’s good to be inside a mall in the Wisconsin winter. A second mirror is set on back wall on the other end of the window, and one on is attached to the ceiling too. So if you were to stick your head in between them you’d get an infinite series of images reflecting back on each other. Not only does Andy think this is “trippy”, he uses the old shopkeepers trick of placing mirrors all over to keep an eye on light-fingered customers. All the real expensive stuff is locked in cases or behind the counter, but he’s not a total ditz at running the place and cheap junk needs to be watched too.
The boys stand her up by the counter and then go move the mannequin to the store room.
“We going to dress her in that?” Marc asks pointing at the dummy.
Looking around, Will spots a barrel of cheap chains of glass beads, all different sizes and lengths. “I was, but I have a better idea.” He scoops a big handful of them and dumps them on the counter. “Get the cardboard box from the car, OK. We got 20 minutes, so hurry.”
“Why me?”
“Duh. You have the pass key to the mall and the ID, dude. Here’s my car keys. Make sure you lock it”
“Right.” Marc runs out.
Will unhooks the cords holding the blanket, and Stella stands there nude, not moving, though when Will cups and releases her breast it swings back into place. “You promised not to tell. You told. You told Troy of all people. And he told everyone. Rose. Gail, Aram, my Mom and Dad, Annette, who still rags me about it. Well, you like to get looked at. Today you are going to get looked at a lot. K-Mart is having a sale-day and we are going to be crowded.”
He starts draping the beads over her head, fastening the longer chains around her waist, some hanging lower in front, some in back using a strip of strong black cloth fastened to itself with stapler around her high waist as a belt to hold them up, leaving the side skin mostly naked, eye-catching like a slit dress cut over the hips high. As Marc comes back in, she has a sort of skirt in place, and a top that hides most of her hooter flesh but for her nipples which poke through. Her back remains naked from shoulders to waist. Then he takes one of the scarves that been on the mannequin and ties it gently around her neck with a big fluffy knot, the ends smartly puffed out.
“Looking good,” Marc says as he cops a feel. “No nips on the dummies though, tight-assed mall policy. I don’t want Andy in trouble... I have an idea.” He heads to the store room and finds a joke belly-dancer kit that sat on the shelf for years but never sold. He had an enormous stiffy caused by his thinking of putting the clips on Stella, actually it was a bit of a recurring fantasy he’d had as recently as week before when spotting it on the shelf. When Will proposed this jape Marc knew he had to assist, even if it meant that Stella might be pissed at him for a while. Nothing unusual in that. There are a couple of gold tasseled pasties in the kit, just tacky enough to go with the beads, they hold on to her rosebuds with light metal springs, pinching them firmly enough to be shaken around and not fly off but gently enough to not cause pain. It exposes more titty where the beads separate, but her nipples and areolas are covered. She’s stimulated by this, which doesn’t totally trouble her as she’s trying to think herself into a cum so she can get out of here and give these two jokers a piece of her mind. Alas for her, this anger blocks her excitement somewhat. She is trying to get off on thinking erotic thoughts by remembering past sex, which is sweetening her honeypot, but not anywhere near enough to be approaching the orgasm she needs. She’ll keep trying though, all day if necessary. Carl has a big dick, think about it. Visualize it. Big and hairy, I wish he’d shave his belly. Sam is licking her pussy. Lap lap lap. Betty’s watching, erp. She’s doing the horizontal mambo with Aram while Sheila has her tongue up her ass. That’s closer. She’s putting eye shadow on a dolled up Will who’s in one of Rose’s negligee’s and then they are heading out to that club—aw shit, that’s why she’s here in the first place. Have to start over. “It’s unfair,” she thought, not for the first time in the last half hour, “Will said that he accepted my apology. I let him spank me. Hard. The fact I came from it is beside the point.”
She’s been trying to use her gifts to get out of it, or at least get back at the guys, but no luck, they seem to be mostly blocked while she’s in this state.
Will takes a pair of black crotchless panties from the box and slides them up her legs. With Stella’s curly black-haired muff and the covering of beads customers, unless they looked real close, would think it was a regular yet sexy underthing. It narrows to strings at the sides, which Will carefully centers on the belt. This sits above her hips, leaving all but about a quarter-inch of her sides on view. Her purple-orange patterned ass peeks out suggestively, but no more daring than the open-bloused mannequin she’ll be replacing today. Out of the box come Stella’s most expensive and highest-heeled shoes, which are slipped on her feet.
As a final touch Will pulls out a make-up kit and applies a dusting of white pancake powder all over her body which under the fluorescents gives her a kind of artificial glow.
They carry her small body over to the platform in the window. Marc has her between the legs, “She’s really wet, Will.”
“Be careful, we don’t want to set her off before the doors open.”
Matching the arms and legs to the pose of the other mannequin they can’t seem to get her to balance in the heels, so lean her against the window. Her shoulder flattens there, not looking like the plastic they want. It’s not too noticeable, but once Will sees it, it stands out.
“How does the real mannequin stand?”
“There’s a pole that gives it a triangular base.”
“OK, right back.” Will races to the hardware store across the mall aisle and gets in just as they are opening the door. One of Will’s former classmates is working there today. He can never remember the guy’s name. Pimply and short, a bit of a nerd. “Hi, I’m helping at Andy’s shop today. Do you have some small clamps and heavy black tape for our new display?” They are quickly produced. “You should come by and have a look, Remember Stella? Marc sent a photo and the new mannequin was made to look just like her. And she’s half-naked.”
Will races back to the store, “I’m helping with the inventory Andy wants done today, but I’ll have to look at her every 15 minutes or she unfreezes. So you’ll have to do anything that means leaving the shop.”
“Dude, I don’t leave when I’m here by myself, and you aren’t an employee. If anyone wants help send them to me.”
People are drifting into the mall; Marc puts an “Open in 5 minutes” sign on the sliding glass door and closes it while they finish and pulls down the blind over the window. Will unscrews the stand from the mannequin; fortunately it’s adjustable—he lowers it to below Stella’s bum height. He clamps and then covers with tape another item he pulls from the box, and then clamps and tapes a short wooden dowel—about eight inches long—at 90 degrees underneath so it looks like an obscene crucifix, as the first item from the box was one of the girl’s bigger dildos. He takes a small jar of the magic cream and spreads it thickly over the dowel. “To make it more fun for her. And prevent splinters.” As Marc holds her up, Will places the stand under her and adjusts it until the fake phallus is all the way up her bum and the dowel splits her pussy lips, peeking out a half inch or so at front and splitting her cheeks then extending out back and beyond by a full inch. It’s a good thing she has a miracle butt; this is to be up there for a while. They let her stand by herself, and with the extra support she doesn’t tip over. Marc places a heavy sandbag made for the purpose on the base of her stand and observes that they’ll need to cross-brace the back end of the dowel, so they hang the heaviest weight from a set of balance scales sold to measure herb on its far end, which adds upward pressure to the rod between her legs rubbing her clittie.
They place her sideways to the window then turn her a bit more so that she’s facing into the room and her ass is gently angled at the window. She feels the dildo twist in her ass, and it sends a spark of pleasure through her body. The beads drape over the shelf of her ass that the heels has created, clearly defining each cheek and exactly indicating the crack between, as Will has attached a bolo tie with a heavy steel Led Zeppelin clasp to her belt dead-center of her backside, the clasp positioned just below the lowest set of beads so it hangs like a tail and makes the bolo’s strings down her backside hold the beaded lines in close, then he uses short tags of black tape to attach the bolo’s strings to either side of the horizontal dowel that slightly protrudes from under her mud-flaps, which makes the beads seem to defy gravity where her ass curves back towards her legs. The beads hang just low enough to hide the dowel front and back when looked at from the side, so lots of curvy leg is on show. There’s no doubt the exact shape of her bum even to the eye of the casual observer. Taking her above the waist Will then twists her slightly so she’s presenting her tits outward towards the window as well, and arranges all the beads using the belt so they drape discretely in ellipses, not overlapping. Everyone passing down the corridor in either direction would get a good look at her bum, legs, tits and face, either directly or in the angled mirrors. The Egg (that’s me!) had given her one of the great buttocks of all time, and there it was for all to almost see.
“Perfect. Let’s open for business,” Marc says as he raises the blind.
“OK, One more thing. I’m going to make-up her face. No reason not to open while I do it.”
For Stella this is the greatest humiliation of all, she is very fussy about her looks, and Will is slathering it on. He has pinched her lips from both sides so her lips pout out. He uses his fingers to curl the top one up and the bottom one down exaggerating their size. She can see her reflection in the window and she looks like a clown. A bimbo clown. With big round red circles of blush on her cheeks. Will thinks, “That should hide when she really blushes”. As Will is working a small crowd has gathered to watch through the window. “More lipstick,” one pundit suggests. Will nods and adds more, bright and glossy red. Will is thinking she looks hot. Slutty as hell, but hot. When he’s done he turns her head slightly more towards the window, so she can see herself infinitely reflected with one eye and in the window’s ghost image with the other, and can watch as the gawkers come to stare at her. Will then plumps up her hair, brushing it with his fingers away from her face. On a shelf nearby he finds some knock-off white felt playmate bunny ears that are held on to the head by a long black plastic curved comb; they have a price tag on a string that says “$1.00” attached to the top of one ear. He brings it back from the front of her hairline to the top of her head, holding any fly-away locks and keeping her face in full view and turns the price tag so it can be read on the other side of the window. By mid-morning Marc was tempted to remove it, after the umpteenth time he had to explain to some joker that the price was for the ears, not the girl. But he’d sold a dozen of them by then, the most ever for something that hadn’t done so well in the past, so they stayed until he sold the ones she wears as the last in stock.
Will takes some more items from the box, then places it under the counter. He takes these over and shows her. “Here are some clothes for later and your purse. I’m not going to leave you, but this is at your feet, just in case.” and he deposits them near her toes, out of reach of customers. It’s her tightest hot pants and smallest halter.
“Man, you hold a grudge,” Marc observes. “It’s been what, three months?”
“I had to wait until she screwed up with the ‘Big Doll’ command. I was so pissed off at her until I thought this up.” Will sets his Casio digital watch to alarm every ten minutes, reminding him to go look at her. Honestly he didn’t know how long he could do it before it got boring, but he promised to help with the store stockroom inventory today to pay Marc for his part in helping “punk”, as Troy calls it, his girlfriend like this. So at least until the afternoon lull.
Mid-morning the hardware store clerk wanders over on his break. He said to Will, “You’re right, it looks just like her. She wouldn’t use that much blush though. It must have cost a bundle. You think for all the work they’d have given a better stand.”
“Oh, that was our fault, we switched out the shoes.”
The clerk looks down. “Yeah, I see that. They got the caboose perfect.” He reaches out to grab ass. Marc who has joined them swats his hand away.
“No touchee. Andy’d kill us if we messed her up.”
“I got a boss like that. Andy never struck me that way though.”
“This one is on special trial. It may go away later.”
“Why. Look at all the shoppers stopping to stare. Those kids from the junior high have been back three times that I’ve seen and I’ve only been here five minutes. The accountant dude from down your hall seems to be camped out on that bench. Everyone that sees her here is going to remember it. At least when they see the real Stella. I bet she is going to be really pissed off when she finds out about this.”
“She knows.”
“And she’s OK with it?”
“Not really, but she has no choice. I’ll make it up to her later.” In the reflection her eyes seem to bore holes into his head.
“What did you need the clamps for?”
“Hmmmm. Don’t tell anyone, OK.”
“OK”
“Marc, I’m lowering the blind for a second. Come in close to block the view.” Will carefully raises the beads in her front with his finger. “Anatomically correct. Next big thing.” The clerk stares at her pussy lips split by the wooden rod and the pole disappearing up her fundament. The dowel is a slightly darker color near the center as it is wet with her frustrated juices unlike the dry raw unvarnished wooden end. Her face flushes even more deeply as she tries to use the humiliation to cum. So close. But not enough. The beads are slowly lowered back in place and arranged back in position where they’ve moved, and the blind raised again. Just in time as a drop of Stella dew drips off the rod onto the sandbag. So close and yet so far.
“Wow that’s realistic. I swear I can smell fish.”
“Ok, ok, look at this,” Will says. “I have to be careful.” He curls his fingers in and traps some of her pubic hair between his knuckles, then twists them side-to-side and then outward, just enough to stretch the skin. “That’s pretty damn real.”
If Stella could she would have bit her lip as her puss slid out slightly along the crossbar.
“Wow,” was all the clerk could say while admiring the smiley-face Marc had drawn on her butt earlier with a permanent marker.
During their lunch-break from school a swarm of kids heading for the video arcade stop to stare. Stella realizes that she knows some of them, they are the younger siblings, mostly boys, of her former classmates. To her horror one of the little monsters licks the glass nearest to her butt. Marc comes out and chases them away and cleans the smear off the window. A few return when he’s gone, but stay across the aisle staring intently, like they are trying to memorize something. There is going to be some Stella inspired stroking tonight, and she knows it. She thinks hard on all those young teen guys rubbing themselves off fantasizing about her, trying to turn it into a cum. 10 guys? No, more. 50? Maybe. More? 100. Yes, 100. A gallon of spent seed flying across pimply, hairless chests. She feels her pussy moisten again, but it still isn’t enough to do with her thoughts alone. Frustrating.
Through the day a number of the hardware workers come over and cruise the shop. None are bold enough to touch her, but all of them take the opportunity to stare intently at her crotch, trying to see past the veil of beads. “Another broken promise,” Will thinks.
Marc looks up to see Mr. Hadrass entering the shop—known as Mr. Hard-ass, he teaches eleventh grade social studies and twelfth grade civics. All the kids had passed through his class, none had enjoyed the experience. He had been a gym instructor at the junior high until he broke a yard-stick hitting a smart-mouth student over the shoulders. He was let go, and the kids were horrified to see him again at his new job the next year in high school, though he was more careful with his map pointer. Still he had a wicked temper, a nasty mouth, and was full of mean opinion.
“Oh shit,” Marc thinks. He pretends not to recognize him. “May I help you, sir?”
“Cut the crap son. I know you, you know me. And I think I know that person standing still in the window half-naked. And I’m not surprised to see you here in this barely-disguised head shop.”
“It’s a mannequin. We sent in a picture and they made it look like my girlfriend.”
“Don’t believe you.” He walks over and grabs her arm.
“Sir, that’s brand new and very expensive, if you break it, you’ve bought it. $1,400 dollars. I know you too and my boss will sue.” Marc points the sign in the shop that states this policy.
Stella is aghast at the thought that the old goat could walk out with her tucked under his arm, or stuffed into a shopping bag. Surely not...
Hard-ass moves her arm down and it follows and stops where he leaves it. Nothing else in her face or body even changes a bit. He lifts up the beads at the back and sees the pole disappearing up her ass. There’s no way that’s going in a real girl who has been standing there not moving an inch for the half hour he’s been watching her. He stops and remembers his court-ordered anger management class training, so then counts to ten and reassesses. Has he made another mistake? It sure looks like it. $1,400? That’s more than two months pay and he’s still paying the fines from his last outburst. He takes his hands away, apologizes, and tries to make a chummy joke with Marc. “Sorry son, I get heated sometimes and I thought it was a trick. I hope I didn’t do any harm. Sure looks real.”
Marc puts her back into position and rearranges her beads. “That’s the point. No harm done.”
“I always thought she had a stick up her ass, now I know for sure,” he says with a weak grin.
“Please sir, if you are not buying anything, leave the store,” Marc coldly demands.
He slinks away sheepishly apologizing again as he goes. Marc wonders if sheep can slink. That actually felt pretty good watching the old dragon turn into a skittering mouse.
Marc goes over and pats her ass, “Well girl, that was a close one. Sorry about that.”
She thinks, “Hey jerk-face, if you really were sorry you’d keep rubbing my bum until I came and could get the hell out of here.” If only she could move up and down, even a bit, she could get off from the dildo spreading her sphincter wide and then pushing up into her. But she can’t.
After the lunch time rush the clerk returns, his shift is over, but he wants one last look. Marc doesn’t let him lift the dress, but they stand in front of her and discuss how hot she and the mannequin are, and the clerk tells Marc some lewd fantasies about her ass that he’s had over the years, some of them pretty gross, a few anatomically impossible, even for her special tush. Many feature her in a cheerleader uniform. Some with tentacled aliens. Even some with evil hypnotists who make her do embarrassing things. She hears it all as they move on to discussing her eyes, her lips and her tits. They even spend some time on her toes. She thinks, “at least Marc is finally acknowledging my hot new pedicure.” Marc is deliberately drawing him out for her to hear. Normally the vain girl’d kill to secretly listen in as people talk about her this way, and later—much later—years in fact, she remembers it with vague fondness, goes and looks up the guy and throws him an astonished fuck. But at the moment she’s steamed and humiliated. The clerk leaves, he had intended to go home and nap before his supper shift, but heads for the local massage parlor instead for a happy ending.
“Look, it’s Carl! Over here! Come get me out of this place!” she tries to project seeing her bestest friend’s dad and monster-dicked occasional lover come down the mall. He doesn’t look too closely as he passes, but then does a classic double take. He heads into the store, and starts talking to Marc, who calls Will out of the back room. The three of them are having an animated conversation, lots of waving of arms and such, but Stella is too far away to hear any of it though she can see it in the mirror’s reflection out of the corner of her eye. Marc and Will make the “cross my heart and hope to die” gesture, and Carl seems to relax a little. Now they are all laughing. What’s up with that? “OK, Carl is coming over, he’s going to get me off this thing,” she thinks.
“Don’t worry darlin’,” he says and then walks away.
“WHAT?” she screams to herself. “Wait! Come back!”
Carl returns about 15 minutes later with something in his hand. Despair changes to hope in the pretty girl’s mind. Then FLASH the store lights up. FLASHFLASHFLASH. “Crap! The bastard’s got a camera.” Sure enough, Carl has laid four developing pictures out on the counter from his Polaroid Land camera, a new color SX-70 where you don’t need to time the development. He comes in closer and FLASHFLASH again. Two more shots pop out as he puts the camera right under her legs on the ground and FLASHFLASH shoots up at her cunt and ass where it is resting on the pole and cross bar. FLASH a close-up of her face. “Bastard! No ass for you! ”
Carl, Will and Marc gather around the counter watching the prints develop. They sort them out and Carl gives the boys one each, and then hands two more to Will.
Will walks over and shows the two to her, “I think you should see these.” One is the upskirt shot, showing her swollen and puffy pubes spit over the dowel, a bulbous stretching stalactite of glistening moisture hanging from one lip, sphincter stretched open around the wide fake dick; the other shows her full body. The flash has caused the glass behind her to reflect, so nothing is hidden. “These ones are a souvenir for you to remember this day”, Will says as tapes the full body shot at her eye level on the mirror, then the upwards one beside it.
Carl leaves again.
“No ass for any of you!” she rages inside. Her ass on the pole and split cunt lips hang there in the picture in front of her. The gawkers are too far away to make them out, but she can’t look away.
Later Will decides that she’s had enough and again brings down the window blind. He lowers the stand and replaces the dildo with her vibrating butt plug and puts her back up on it; it recognizes her and starts humming away. He leaves the blind down, blocking the outside view, but she can still be seen in the now customerless store. It doesn’t take long; she’s been on the edge all day. As she cums, she shouts “Bastards!” startling a matronly lady entering the store, who scurries away. She strips off the beads and dismounts from the stand with a wet POP!, angry cum running down her leg, and quickly steps squishily into the hot pants and halter. Will and Marc are around back finishing the inventory, they thought that it would be at least another five minutes before she creamed. They watch her run out of the store in hot pants and heels leaving a trail of girl cum droppings, and start laughing.
Catching his breath about a minute later Will says, “Wait here, I’ll drive her home. I got her an expensive apology gift that I think will calm her down a little. She can yell at me first, you later.”
Marc reaches into the drawer under the till where he put them after getting the box that morning, “Dude she’s got your keys,” and laughs even louder. Will runs after her, but even with her in heels he can’t catch up and watches his car peel out onto the street. He walks back in, past a series of gawkers who have witnessed the whole scene. “Crazy girlfriend,” he mutters loud enough to be heard, hoping that this explanation will suffice.
Returning for the second part of his split-shift, our hardware clerk later swears he saw the heavily made-up hot mannequin from Andy’s store driving off the mall lot at a high rate of speed. It sure wasn’t in the now closed store window anymore. When the clerk next saw Marc, Marc said, “too realistic” when asked where the mannequin had gone.
Stella refused to fuck Marc for one whole month afterwards, and it took Will two days to find his car, and he’s not sure he’ll ever get the smell out. She never did receive that gift.
She wouldn’t go back in that mall until she cut and dyed her hair. And for years afterwards she sometimes got the strangest looks of half-recognition from people on the street.