© Copyright 2011 - Lobo De la Sombra - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; prosthetic; insert; transform; bodymod; mermaid; tank; reluct/nc; X
“Are we ready to begin?” Without waiting for an answer Jolene settled into the chair. “Well?” she demanded, “what are you waiting for?”
Inwardly, she smiled. The whole crew knew that she and James, the director, weren’t getting along well. In fact, they were barely on speaking terms. It was openly whispered that he’d fire her if he could, but nobody knew exactly why, or why she was still around.
Jolene knew. A little bit of blackmail, she knew, went a long way. Not only had it gotten her onto the cast of this newest underwater epic, a special new part had been written into the script just for her.
Her musings were cut short as James entered the room. With barely a glance at the assembled makeup specialists, he glared at Jolene.
“What are you doing here? Your makeup has to be done in the special effects area. Let’s go.” Without waiting for an answer, he turned and left.
Frowning, Jolene rose to follow. Evidently, she thought, James had yet to learn his place. Perhaps she should remind him of their night together, and the video waiting only for a call from her to be delivered to his family. Maybe then he would remember his manners. The thought restored her good spirits as she stepped into the special effects area.
Inside, she saw a large tank, mostly filled with water. Beside the tank sat what looked like a medical examination table, all cold, gleaming steel, and a large trunk. Glancing around, she looked in vain for anything resembling a makeup chair.
“What now?” she asked. James responded to her question with a tight smile.
“For your costume to be worn properly there must be nothing beneath it. Which means you’ll need to be bare from the waist down before we begin.” He nodded toward the two women who were the only other people present. “I’ve selected the makeup people to preserve your modesty, of course.”
“Of course.” For a moment, Jolene frowned, then with a shrug, she quickly untied the straps on her dress and let it fall to the floor, leaving her naked except for her sandals, which she quickly kicked off. At a gesture from one of the women, she stretched out on the table, wincing slightly at the feel of the cold metal against her bare skin.
Opening the large trunk, James removed what looked like a huge fish tail. Water shone on the scales, dripped from the fins of the tail.
“A very special prosthetic,” he said, meeting Jolene’s curious gaze, “designed especially for your body. Once it’s in place nobody will be able to tell it’s not real. Unfortunately, the special material it’s made of has to be kept wet. So, once the tail is in place, we’ll get you into the tank until we’re ready to shoot.”
“Whatever,” Jolene said shortly. “Let’s just get on with it, shall we?”
James set the tail on the table beside Jolene, then stepped back and nodded to the two women. Carefully, the two peeled back the upper edge of the tail until the prosthetic was nearly inside out. Carefully, they lifted Jolene’s feet and inserted them into the prosthetic, then began slowly rolling it up her legs.
Jolene winced as the tightness forced her feet into a nearly en-pointe position. To make matters worse, every place the prosthetic touched immediately began to itch horribly. James noticed her discomfort and smiled slightly.
“Sorry about the itch,” he said. “It shouldn’t last long. That’s just your skin getting used to the material of the prosthetic.”
Slowly, the two women unrolled the material. As the prosthetic was worked higher, its tightness turned her legs into a single column. Finally, the women stopped just below her crotch. Carefully, they rolled Jolene onto her side, and then moved to stand, one in front of her, one behind. After a glance toward James, they lowered their hands once more to her body.
Suddenly, Jolene felt something pressing against her crotch. Even as she opened her mouth to protest, she felt it slip inside her. Something else, feeling cold and a bit slimy, soon pushed its way into her ass. Eyes wide, she turned her head toward James.
“Once we’re done,” he explained, “you’ll be in there a while. So we included tubes to let you perform, shall we say, natural functions without the need to remove your makeup.”
“This is a lot to go through for a little film time,” Jolene replied.
“It will be well worth it,” was James’ response. “Trust me.” With a nod, he signaled the women to continue.
Finally, the prosthetic was completely in place, its upper edge coming to just above her hip bones. Glancing down, Jolene was amazed at how natural it looked.
“Now let’s get you into the tank before that gets dry,” James said, “and then we’ll start on the other pieces.”
“You’ll see,” was the only reply.
Carefully, James and the two women lifted Jolene from the table, settling her into the tank of water. A bench at one end allowed her to sit with her upper body above water level. Curiously, she watched as James lifted what looked like a pair of gloves from the trunk. These were carefully unrolled onto her hands, accompanied by the same horrible itching. Glancing down, Jolene saw that her hands now had webbing between the fingers.
James reached into the trunk a third time, withdrawing what looked like a high collar, with gills on each side of the high neck. Carefully, the women drew this down over Jolene’s head, settling it into place. Once positioned, it covered her neck, the lower edge in front ending just above her breasts. Again, the itching made her want to tear the thing from her, but she forced herself to remain still.
Slowly, the itching began to fade from her legs, then her hands, and finally, her throat. Jolene heaved a huge sigh of relief, and then froze. Something wasn’t right. She inhaled sharply, feeling the air fill her lungs, but feeling nothing through her nose. Puzzled, she turned toward James to ask what was going on, but when she opened her mouth, all that emerged was a high pitched squeal. James smiled at the sound.
“Excellent,” he said. “Everything is working perfectly.” Leaning down, he placed a hand to Jolene’s throat, touching the prosthetic material she wore there.
“I told you this was special,” he said. “But I didn’t tell you how special. You see, this material was designed by an experimental lab I happen to be part owner of. Unlike other prosthetics we use for makeup, this is alive.
“The itching you felt on your skin was the material linking with your nervous system. Basically, it has become part of you now. This is your new skin.” Slowly, he drew his finger across her throat, and Jolene could feel his touch, not as if through a covering material, but as if on her own skin. She drew back, protesting, but only those high squeals emerged from her mouth.
“The neck piece,” James continued, “serves two purposes. The side gills have linked with your respiratory system, which means you no longer draw air through your nose or mouth. Instead, your gills provide your oxygen, which means you can breathe above or below water. It also altered your voice box, allowing you to make sounds that can be heard at great distances in the water.” He grinned. “Of course, nobody can understand you, but that’s beside the point.”
Desperately, Jolene reached down to her waist to tear the prosthetic from her. To her horror, she could find no edge. It was as if the material had fused itself to her skin. Her hands, too, showed no edges that would allow the gloves to be removed. Briefly, she clawed at her neck, and then slumped, defeated, not resisting as the two women pushed her further into the tank and into the water. James brought a hose and filled the tank, after which a clear lid was sealed into place. Jolene floated helplessly inside, her gills fluttering as they drew oxygen from the water. Staring out, she wondered what would happen to her now.
James stepped through the back door of his beach house. It had been a long day, but filming on the movie was going well. Now it was time to relax. Carrying a plastic bucket, he strode down a flight of steps to an enclosed pool near the beach.
“Supper,” he said loudly, taking sections of raw fish and throwing them into the water. There was a ripple on the surface, and then a woman’s head emerged. Webbed hands snatching at the fish, she hungrily devoured them. James watched, entranced as always, by the sight.
It had been four months since that day in special effects. The two women, who were actually his mistresses, had helped him transport Jolene to this secluded pool. She had been there since, his own pet, and the world’s only mermaid. Smiling, he knelt at the edge of the pool.
“That tape isn’t doing you much good now,” he said mockingly, “is it? Somehow, I doubt you’ll ever be making that call. Sorry we wrote you out of that movie, but I doubt you could have handled the speaking parts.” James laughed, a hard, mocking sound. “Look on the bright side, though. You are most definitely one of a kind.”
Jolene simply stared at him, her tail thrusting to keep her upper body above water. Then, feeling her gills begin to dry beneath the hot sun, she submerged, swimming deep beneath the surface. The water felt good as it returned moisture to her.
It also helped wash away the tears.