The Exposition of Modified Women

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The Exposition of Modified Women, Part 7 - Pipe Dreams

by Benfan

[Note - some graphic watersports toward the end of this chapter.  Skip the last few paragraphs if reluctant pee-play is not to your....taste.  ;) BF]

 

 

Mark had recognized the "Pipe Dreams" sign immediately as announcing the exhibit of a fellow named Gordon, a well-known Society character and its most experienced and respected plumber.  As a personal friend Mark knew that Gordon came to the Expo not to hawk his wares, but simply to show off his talent and imagination, and join in the celebration of erotic modification.  Of course he could afford the luxury of forsaking salesmanship, since his reputation was already established and his creations highly sought by wealthy men and potentates from Tokyo to Tripoli.

The Pipe Dreams exhibit was larger than average, the booth assembled of solid partitions with a floor of black-and-white patterned vinyl that simulated ceramic tile.  Front and center in this space was a famous example of Gordon's skill and creativity: his prize-winning Mermaid Shower.

The mermaid was a spectacular, suntanned blonde fixed in an upright position, her eyes gazing down from two feet above the visitors entering the booth.  She was a tall girl, but her height was exaggerated by a stylized pedestal of verdegris copper that encased her legs from the hip down.  With a surface that mimicked scales and studded here and there with beads that caught the light like glimmering drops of water, the heavy pedestal concealed the blonde beauty's feet as it transformed her lower limbs into a single fishy tail.  At its base the tapered column curved forward into a pair of broad, vaned flukes, which spread across the floor and curled up at the edges forming a non-slip shower pan.

From waist up the mermaid was naked, her full, natural-looking breasts on proud display.  Her arms were extended out and forward, the hands appearing to support a large chrome ring from which a transparent plastic curtain hung.   But Mark had enjoed the pleasure of examining this installation closely during a visit to Gordon's home a few years ago, when a statuesque redhead had been cast as the water-nymph; he knew that the circular curtain rod was actually carried by a stainless steel armature hidden behind the mermaid's back.  The cuffs that joined the girl's wrists and elbows to the bright ring functioned not as supports for the shower curtain, but as restraints.  From the same inspection he knew that the shower head that projected between the blonde's red lips was not fed by a pipe run somehow through her body, but from up behind her back and through the chrome-plated "straps" across her cheeks that held the fixture in place.

The upper edge of the green copper pedestal/tail was curved, rising high at the sides to capture the blonde's flaring hips but dipping low in the middle, below her belly button.  There, below the girl's rippling tanned abs, her pubic bulge was hidden by a shiny silver plate in the shape of a scallop shell.  From the base of this escutcheon a chrome handle projected, which could be turned right or left to point toward the letters "H" or "C" stamped into the polished metal.  This was obviously the control valve for the shower, but the device included one feature that was hidden from all but the mermaid herself: a pair of cylindrical steel chambers filled with hard plastic balls, through which the flowing water circulated when the shower was in use.  These cylinders rose vertically inches behind the scallop-shell, penetrating deep inside the mermaid's pussy and ass.  When water flowed through them the balls knocked and rattled against the inside of the cylinders, creating a powerful vibration.

Mark recalled the long, steamy showers he'd enjoyed during that visit to Gordon's, how by the time he'd gotten himself well lathered the redhead had moaned and squirmed in her bonds while her pale tummy flushed pink from the heat.

To one side of the Mermaid Shower Mark saw a handful of men standing in line, and could guess what they were waiting for.  Taking his place he looked past those who'd queued up before him, into a little three-sided booth at the very back of the exhibit space.  There he saw Gordon himself tending to one of his installations.  The plumber was short and lean, dressed like the tradesman he was in well-worn blue jeans and a green cotton shirt.  His close-cropped hair was mostly white now, but his arms were still hard and wiry, his eyes and voice bright as ever.

"Come on now, honey, your time's up," he was saying.  "Time to let somebody else have their turn."  He bent over, helping a naked girl disentangle herself from one of his complicated installations.  Gordon was unusual among Society members in that he generally worked with consensual submissives, though this particular subject looked like she might be regretting her agreement to model for him.

She rose from her low seat with face contorted in an open-mouthed grimace, eyes blinking behind a pair of swimmer's goggles.  Dripping wet from her tanned cleavage to the streaked blonde hair that was pulled back severely from her face, the girl emitted a high-pitched whine interrupted by shallow coughs and gasps.  She raised one hand weakly to allow Gordon to help her up; the other cradled her swollen belly.  The petite blonde looked about four months pregnant - though Mark knew the real cause of her bloating was likely quite different.  As she staggered away from her station Gordon aided her with gloved hands, while trying to keep her soaked body from touching his clothes.  A pair of foot-long tubes dangled between her legs.

"Sorry gentlemen," Gordon called out to the guests standing in line, "but this little one's taken all she can and I've got to do a shift change.  It won't be long - her replacement will be ready to go in about ten minutes."

The plumber turned again to the sputtering, shivering girl, who tried to lean on him for support while he supported her at arms length.

"There, there; that's all for now.  Let's get you drained and cleaned up and then you get to rest 'til next shift."  Gordon picked up a black plastic bin filled with wet, unidentifiable gadgets, and together they disappeared behind a partition.

The wiry old plumber must have left the girl to attend her own needs, or else had an assistant behind the scenes, because very shortly he emerged again leading a different girl by the hand.  This one was fair and shiny-clean, with a trim, graceful figure and a face of angular beauty framed by wavy dark hair down to her shoulders.  As Gordon led her by the hand she smiled out at the men watching her entrance with pride in her eyes, as though she were the star of the event and pleased to show off her flawless nude form.

"This is Alexis," Gordon said to the little crowd.  "She's a new girl and very excited to be making her first trip to the Expo.  I hope you fellows are ready to give her a proper welcome!  Here we go, honey, let's not waste any time getting you rigged up.  All these men are waiting on you."

His hands were bare now and he carried another plastic bin, like the first but white in color and likewise filled with an assortment of items.  In a moment he'd clamped around his volunteer's graceful neck the two halves of a high posture collar, made of white latex reinforced with rigid plastic and featuring an unusual raised flange that circled it about halfway up.  Then he fitted under the willowy beauty's firm, C-cup tits a sling of white latex, like a swooping, parabolic shelf bra.  Alexis squealed theatrically as the plumber suddenly tightened the "bra's" straps behind her shoulders, drawing her twin mounds together high on her chest.  A raised rim of shiny latex curved continuously now from the girl's collarbones down and under her raised breasts.  A thin black hose dangled from the underside of the strange bra, below her breastbone.

Mark was tapping his foot now, but Gordon was working quickly and he decided he could wait to see the rest of the installation.

"Turn around now, dear.  Hands on your knees."  Alexis turned as ordered and in a moment her clean-shaven pussy peeked out between her pale asscheeks.  From the bin Gordon produced a plastic nozzle as thick as his finger, which he connected to a short ribbed hose before coating with lubricating jelly.  Without a pause the plumber slipped the straight nozzle quickly up the lean brunette's bottom and gave its base a quick twist.  From his familiarity with Gordon's work Mark new the twist had caused the inner end of the nozzle to expand, securing it in place.  Alexis cooed at the penetration and ahhed with the dilation, hamming it up for her audience.

"That's a good girl.  Now the tricky one."  With practiced speed Gordon lubed a smaller, almost needle-sized nozzle.  His stubby fingers spread his exhibit's pink nether lips and located the urethra, and with a slower, more gentle motion slipped the tiny tube into it.  Despite his care this brought a squeak of real discomfort from Alexis' lips, which the plumber ignored while he squeezed a bulb at the nozzle's base that secured it in place.

"OK, honey, turn around and take your seat."  The tubes swung between Alexis' legs as she pivoted to face the men again, her smile dimmed just a little.  Holding her hand Gordon guided her to squat over a strange white contraption: a low, sculpted lump of white porcelain or fiberglass with a curved chrome bar rising behind it.  As the lean brunette lowered her body the plumber guided the tubes that dangled from her into a slot in the "seat," until at last her crotch rested upon it, her knees touched the faux-tile floor and she sat back with heels nearly touching her bottom.  A gentle push on her tailbone reminded the girl to slide forward a few inches, where a wide bulge at the saddle's front forced her thighs well apart.

Quickly the plumber passed two inch wide straps of thick white latex over the tops of the girl's thighs, which pressed into her flesh as they fixed her in place on the ground-level perch.  Then he knelt and reached under the seat from the back, fitting the girl's waste tubes to connections hidden within the saddle.  Next he joined the black hose that dangled from her "bra" to a fitting on top of the white bulge atop the saddle, between her thighs.  Satisfied with these connections, he pushed gently on Alexis' forehead and she leaned back against the curved chrome support behind her.

When Gordon took Alexis' hand again she looked up at him quickly, with a look of nervous doubt in her eye.  But he did not seem to notice and she allowed him to draw her white arm behind her, where a steel cuff on her wrist was snapped to a link on her seat, just above her heel.  After securing the other wrist in the same fashion Gordon turned again to the white box of gadgets.  Her smile gone now, the restrained brunette avoided eye contact with Gordon's guests and stared into space high above them.

The next item the old plumber drew from the bin was a strangely curved, roundish shape in white plastic, like a warped donut.  The central hole was just barely large enough to fit over Alexis' head, and flattened her nose for a moment as the wiry tradesman slipped it down to encircle her neck.  The inner rim was mated to the flange around her posture collar, by several screw-down connections that Gordon was careful to tighten for a proper seal.  The white form was vaguely bowl-shaped, the rim rising high behind the girl's pretty face but dipping lower where it passed her ears, until finally turning downwards into a spout that pointed toward her cleavage.  At first Mark thought of it as a futuristic Elizabethan collar, but then a better image sprang to mind: the collared and cowled Alexis looked quite like a giant plastic lily, her head a dark-topped stamen surrounded by gracefully cupped white petals.

When Gordon held a pair of rubber wedges in front of Alexis' face she looked into his eyes again, and her expression made clear that she was having second thoughts about all this.  But the plumber had guests waiting - he didn't waste any time reassuring the girl but simply raised his brows and touched the first rubber wedge to her lips.

Rolling her eyes back to the ceiling the brunette reluctantly gaped, and Gordon quickly fitted the two wedges between her molars.  Regardless of her doubts, Alexis' jaws were propped wide apart.  Her chin and the back of her head pressed firmly now into the padded top of her posture collar, so that her face was fixed in position looking up and forward from the center of the white plastic bowl.  Reaching behind her the plumber adjusted the chrome support so that it pressed up between her shoulders, taking up the slack in her arm bondage and forcing her spine into a slight arch.  The fair-skinned girl's breaths came more quickly now, and shallow.

"A little precaution against any nasty infections..."  The plumber fitted a pair of rubber-rimmed swimmer's goggles, like those the previous occupant of this exhibit had worn, over his volunteer's brown eyes.  Then, reaching one last time into the bin, he drew out two small items.  The first was a small plastic basket, which he placed deep in Alexis' gaping mouth so that it rested upon the jaw-wedges.  The next was a little round cake, waxy-white, which he set in the basket.  At its taste the helpless girl made a little gakk.

"There now, hon, I know it isn't candy.  But if we let these gentlemen shoot straight down your throat you'll gag every time.  And the salts will balance some of the acid you'll be getting."

Finally Gordon arranged his model's dark, wavy hair about the warped bowl, straightened and turned to face his guests - some of whom were now visibly fidgety.

"She's all yours, gentlemen.  Sorry for the wait, but I expect by now you're ready to give Alexis a proper welcome to the Expo!  I'm sure you all have good aim but don't worry if you're a little off - anything that goes down the drain-line under Alexis' tits gets pumped back up from below, so as long as you hit her between the shoulders nothing's wasted.  And hi Mark, good to see you again.  Make sure to come back and see me after you're done visiting with Alexis here."

The man at the head of the line stepped forward quickly and bent his elbows, blocking Mark's view of the kneeling brunette.  In a moment a faint splattering sound was heard, followed by a cough and guggle...

While waiting his turn Mark gazed about the other exhibits that graced Gordon's black and white checkerboard floor.  Behind the Mermaid Shower stood a luxurious footed bath tub - the feet belonging to an unmatched pair of naked beauties who decorated either end.  They faced each other over the length of the tub, torsos clamped to its round ends by wide shiny bands and legs bent with knees pressed under the vessel's rim.

One of the girls - a fair, slim blonde - was fixed at the lower drain-end of the tub with her waist at the height of its rim.  Her upper body was bound by a band under her armpits to the plumbing fixtures that rose above the tub. Looking carefully, Mark could see that the cross-handled knobs that opened the tub's filler valves also turned screw clamps that would squeeze her pink nipples whenever the water flowed.  In her mouth she held a strapless chrome plug-gag, like a shiny baby's pacifier.  From the ring at its back a lightweight chain descended into the tub - to operate the stopper, Mark guessed.

The girl facing her was tanned and voluptuous, with a rich crop of rusty brown hair that cascaded behind her almost to the floor.  Her body was set lower against the more inclined sitting-end of the tub, with the rim pressing up under her melon-sized tits and her big butt inches above the floor.  The mouth of this Rubenesque beauty was not plugged, but made comically huge by a cage-like insert that held her jaw at full gape and pushed her cheeks out into blushing bubbles.  Inside the cage and between her stretched lips a bar of soap rested.  Chrome caddies alongside the tub held a collection of brushes and folded towels.

"Yo, check this out!"  While Mark watched some other visitors took interest in the tub, a trio of young black men dressed in sharp modern suits and dripping in the gold chains and ornament that were popular with the hip-hop crowd.  After an animated discussion the men decided that one of them should try it on for size.

"OK, ladies!  Make some room for Master K!"  The lean guest slipped off his silk jacket and Italian loafers but retained the rest of his clothes as he stepped quickly into the dry tub, sat down and reclined.  With his toes by the drain below the blonde's perky cupcake tits, his head rested perfectly between the thick-bodied beauty's big, round jugs.  He twisted his neck left and right, pressing his fuzzy head deeper into her cleavage while rubbing his cheeks against her soft, creamy pillows.

"Yeah, boys...Fuck the jacuzzi, I got to get one of these for the crib.  But ladies!  What are your hands for?"

The girls' arms were indeed unrestrained but till now had lain still, passively grasping the tub's rim.  At the bather's words they sprang into action, the blonde reaching down to raise one of his feet and massage it, while her brown-haired partner rubbed his temples with her thumbs.

"Yeah, momma, now that's fine service.  And I guess if we had some water you might do some washin' too?"  The gagged blonde facing him nodded, as much as the stopper-chain allowed.

"And for a handsome man like Master K, that massage might have a happy endin'?"  Another nod, as the corners of her mouth turned up in a smile around the chrome pacifier.

"But what if a playa just wanted to kick it and soak for a while?"  The more curvaceous of his attendants stopped her massage and reached down to a rack on the far side of the tub.  She drew from it a magazine, and extending her arms held it open at a reading distance before the eyes that peaked out from between her big nipples.

"What," the bather laughed to his friends while the blonde continued rubbing his foot. "No Shakespeare?"

A few yards behind the tub a less lighthearted scene played out.  A silent female sat by the wall there, ignored and fully encapsulated in black latex.  She sat as though in a chair, with back straight, knees wide-spread and a long rectangular sink resting across her lap.  Only her black-wrapped toes touched the floor, as her feet pointed down in line with her shins.  The nature of her seat was hidden behind the sink - all that could be seen of it was a chrome tube three inches in diameter that descended vertically below her bottom to the floor and supported most of her weight.  A shiny spray nozzle was suspended above the sink on a flexible chrome line that arched over her head.  There were racks to her right and left, which each held several dishes.

Mark watched as the rubber-gloved female lifted a plate from the left-hand rack.  Lowering it into the soapy water she carried on her thighs she scrubbed the plate thoroughly, then rinsed it off with the dangling nozzle before placing it in the opposite rack.  The woman had no choice but to attend her work closely, as her heavy posture collar rose high in back forcing her gaze down into the sink.

The features of the scullery slave's shiny black mask were vague and generic, obscuring any hint of her identity.  The only openings in the dark helmet were a small chrome-rimmed circle over her mouth, and a pair of metal-edged slits below where her eyes should be.  Mark guessed she could see no more than a few inches, if at all, outside the rim of the rectangular sink.

As soon as she'd finished washing all the dishes to the left, the faceless figure reached to the rack on her right and began scrubbing the same plates all over again.  None of them were dirty.

On the wall nearest Mark a different kind of sink-girl was mounted.  This one was less hardworking and more ornamental, designed as a personal lavatory.  Its female component was a naked and slightly-built blonde, with a pair of silicone bubbles in size DD stuck high on her chest.  She stood upright against the wall, her midsection constricted into a narrow cylinder by a tight clamping band of chromed steel.  A fitting at the back of the waistband fixed her rigidly a few inches in front of the wall; a small white porcelain sink was hung at the front of the tummy-crushing band.  A large chrome plug-gag was held deep in her mouth by a pair of shiny metal straps across her cheeks.  On the front of the gag, between her cherry lips, was a big silver button.

The girl's elbows were bound tight to her pipe-stemmed waist, while her forearms were held level and pointed straight out to either side of her body.  Her right hand held a white cup, the left a can of shaving gel.  Her forearms were draped with neatly folded white towels, each bearing a "G" monogram and hanging down to her middle thigh.  Clipped to the pink nipples that poked out from her round tits were a pair of little chrome cylinders, finger-wide, a couple of inches long, and oriented vertically.  In the right cylinder a toothbrush hung; the left held a razor.  Topping off this attractive installation was a round mirror eight inches in diameter, mounted in a swiveling chrome bracket that the pretty blonde wore like a crown above her brow.

A pair of small silver lines curled up past the girl's belt to feed a faucet that pointed down into the sink, but Mark couldn't see how the flow was activated.  He tipped his head and looked underneath the sink, where the chrome trap curled back and upwards, disappearing between the blonde's thighs before descending again toward the floor.  But he still couldn't find the faucet's controlling valves.

One of the men who'd waited near the front of the queue approached the lavatory to wash his hands.  When he stepped in front of it the water began to flow automatically, as Mark caught a glimpse of motion below: the girl had pushed down on a pair of pedals, to which her bare little feet were clamped by a pair of wide chrome bands across the insteps.  Now that he knew where to look, Mark saw the familiar letters "H" and "C" again, stamped into the pedal-straps.

Having rinsed his hands the man reached up to the girl's face, and the chrome plug-gag.  His finger pressed firmly on the button at the center of the gag, pushing the girl's head back a fraction as a blob of thick white goo drooled from her lower lip into his cupped palm.  After lathering his hands well with the liquid soap he held them under the faucet, and water flowed again as the girl's toes pressed the pedals.

"Hotter," he commanded, and she pushed down harder with her right foot.  Not hard enough, apparently, as the man placed the leather sole of his shoe atop the girl's red-painted toenails, bearing down on her foot until steam rose from the sink and her blue eyes watered.  When he was satisifed with his hygiene the man lifted his foot, and the girl began breathing again while he dried his hands on one of Gordon's towels.

At last the visitor in front of Mark in queue moved aside, and he lowered his zipper as he stepped forward to stand between Alexis' spread knees.  The face that looked up at him was quite different from the confident, beautiful woman who had entered on Gordon's arm not a quarter of an hour before, basking in his guests' attention.  The dark hair was wet and matted here and there, the pale brow deeply furrowed and lips curled back from her wide-propped teeth in a grimace.  Behind the plastic-bubble goggles Alexis' eyes blinked up at Mark's face, their expression now more pleading than proud.

He let fly with the product of his kidneys, but the pressure that had built during his wait threw off his aim.  The tip of Mark's stream struck the girl's upper lip, and a bit of the bitter liquid splashed up her nose.  She started, as far as her strict restraints allowed, then snorted and sputtered as he lowered his aim and found his target.

His heavy stream spattered against the salty cake between her propped jaws, rapidly filling Alexis' mouth.  She tried to swallow as Gordon had trained her, but the splash up her nose had broken her focus and she began to gag and sputter.  Recalling the plumber's comments Mark moved his stream to the side, painting the girl's cheekbone and ear while he gave her a chance to collect herself.  He watched as his yellow pee soaked her wavy black hair, then curled forward along the rimmed white cowl toward the spout.  Soon a steady trickle was falling from the spout into her cleavage, where it was collected by the latex shelf bra and disappeared down the black drain hose.  A moment later Mark could faintly hear an electric pump switching on.

He allowed the girl one good breath before directing his stream into her mouth once more.  She had mastered her gag reflex again, and her throat pulsed as she swallowed repeatedly.  But Mark's long-restrained flow was copious, and he could see his urine beginning to back up around Alexis' pink tongue.  Not wanting to cause any messy retching he moved his aim-point upwards now, avoiding the nasal area and playing back and forth across the brunette's goggles.  Again, after a short delay, the yellow trickle fell between her breasts and the pump clicked to life.

At last the pressure in his bladder eased, and Mark's stream went slack.  Without squeezing it off he took a little step closer to the gasping piss-girl to make sure his last drops fell into her tiered collection areas.  Alexis' dripping face relaxed slightly as the stream of pee broke, then flinched again when a final squirt struck her on the forehead.  After a pause Mark shook his last drops into her white cleavage, then tucked his prick away again.

As he turned to wash up at the nearby blonde lavatory Gordon approached the urinal installation.  The crew-cut plumber picked up a watering can, such as an indoor gardener might use, from a stand next to it and looked down at his disenthused volunteer.

"Time for a flush, I think, dear."  He tipped the little can over Alexis' face and played its delicate spray over her and about the cowl for a moment, washing away the yellow drops that clung here and there.  The liquid in the can was bluish, and in a moment an artificially fresh scent rose from the bowl.  The cleansing flush flowed down the spout, and Alexis whimpered softly while the hidden pump hummed.

 

 

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