The Idol Pt. 2
by Tocixcog
“Viewing hours are now over, I’m going to ask that everyone make their way to the entrance. Please don’t forget to retrieve any coats or valuables from the cloakroom attendant on your way out. Thank you.” The man spread a wide gesture with his hands, herding the shuffling crowd out of the exhibit hall. “We open again on the 22[super]nd[/super], last Thursday of the month. Have a good night!” When the final visitor had pulled their eyes away, he sealed the room with a velvet rope across the doorway.
After a quick smoke break, the man returned to the emptied exhibit hall, now alive with a different sort of life. The exhibits shifted as he passed by, pulling up towels and sheets to hide the nudity they displayed so openly during the day. ‘Why bother?’ he thought. Everyone already knew what they looked like from all angles.
In the center of one room, Casey was still perched on her stool, four legs planted in the cardinal directions with a chin raised proudly. Her eyes were closed, holding in the heat and want of all the visitor’s stares before she released them with a single exhale. The twenty breasts that embraced her limbless torso all shared a rippling shudder as she slowly began to focus motion into her legs. Pushing herself up off the stool and then back down again was like her little form of stretches after a long day of holding still. Casey nodded slightly to the security guard as he passed her, not needing her eyes to recognize the sound of his footsteps. “Philip.”
Philip frowned as he slipped around the glass cage to make his rounds, a shiver flicking up his back at the way she always knew when he was entering of leaving a room. “Casey.” The exchange would be mutual, refusing to call her by her exhibit name as she has asked, since she refused to address him as Mr. Stoveson. That title would always be exclusive to his late father, it appeared.
Casey tipped her neck back, throwing her voice behind her as the man moved away. “My artist will be here soon Philip, make sure they are not waiting at the door.”
“Tch.” Teeth clicked and Philp rolled his eyes. “He comes and goes as he pleases. You don’t get to decide when he shows up or not Casey.” They were like a ghost as far as Philip knew, sometimes waking in with the regular visitors, sometimes calling ahead in the dead of night. Hell, they would even pay admission on occasion, didn’t make a lick of sense.
“No, I know they’re close.” Casey set back onto her stool, lifting her back right leg and tilting backwards to scratch an itch on the underside of her eighth breasts. There were just a few places she couldn’t reach easily with her feet, namely her top ring of six breasts and around her face, so it was important to keep up on her stretches and train her flexibility. Her hair and makeup were another matter, usually getting a fellow exhibit to help her with those each morning. “Actually…” Philip kept moving with his rounds and out of the range of her calling.
“Mm!” Casey frowned slightly when she opened her eyes to watch Philip turn a corner. Always so rude to her like this and for no reason. Still, it was unbefitting of an idol to display anger, even after visiting hours when nobody was watching. She pushed her stool to the side with the pawing motion of her feet, then reached up with one leg to open the glass display chamber. Moving on her own was such a hassle, triangulating the careful balance with between her legs and top-heavy cluster of breasts. Philip would be passing through the galleries left wing now, so she moved to cut him off on the return pass.
There he was. “Actually, I’d like you to fetch me some new stockings.” Casey pronounced grandly, lifting up her left front leg to an outstretched perfect 180-degree angle. “The red ones. I must look my best for when my artist comes tonight.”
He sighed, mentally cursing the stuck-up woman. Just a few months ago she had stood as tall as him but could hardly look him in the eyes with her nervousness for her new job. Now she was a little four-legged pile of tits and acted like a princess who owned the place. Every exhibit the artist worked with always displayed the same attitude behind different bodies and faces. “I told you…” A distant knock on the galleries entrance made Philip look away from Casey’s legs. “Hey, visiting hours are over!”
Casey carefully dropped her heel, scooting out of the way. “Oh, that must be my artist. Never mind the stockings, there isn’t time.” Oh well, black looked best on her anyway, as much as she had been excited to show off a new color.
“Humph…” More likely just a creep who was trying to snap a picture at some boobs through the front window. Philip hurried over to the entranceway, spying a frail looking person wrapped in bandages patiently knocking on the edge of the door. “Shit.” They really did just show up whenever they wanted. Picking up his steps, Philip rushed over to let Alm, the artist, escape from the chilled night air. Strangest thing that they would only show up on the coldest days, almost like they wanted Philip to feel even worse about letting them wait. Or just another weird eccentricity, it felt like there was nothing he could explain about the artist.
“Sorry about that. What are you here for tonight?”
“It is fine.” The artist tucked their bandaged hand into the pocket of their olive-green button up coat to warm it and secure the newspaper wrapped present he was protecting from the weather. “Making changes. Set up my table in blue room.” Philip looked slightly unsure. “You know, blue… it is room…room with good light.” They gestured towards the ceiling.
“Oh, yes, next to the Sapphire wing. Sure thing.” That was the room with the large sunroof window, though Philip had no way of understanding how Alm referred to the different gallery halls. He ran off to go get all the artist’s equipment, thankfully in a different direction then Casey.
The artist moved on ahead, their new walking stick clutching the floor in their path. Every exhibit that passed by would take a moment to undo anything they had covering themselves, giving the artist another glimpse of their work, sometimes trading a few words.
Casey was waiting for Alm beside her display case, sliding closer when the artist was in view. She could feel that they were not merely passing by, but seeking her out on this visit. Every exhibit had that instinct and this was the first time Casey had felt it in her core.
“A tiredness that feels like the worst cold ever, but you are not sick” is what the other exhibits had told her. They said that each time an exhibit felt this way, the artist would soon come to see them, and this visit would change them, heal them. Casey asked what this meant and some exhibits said it was a physical change, reshaping their bodies. Others said it was a gift or object which completed them, some said there was simply a conversation with the artist. Some even whispered about those who were not seen from again after their visit, though each exhibit agreed that this just meant leaving the gallery.
Casey for her part knew that she was not ready to leave the gallery and hoped most of all that the artist
was here to change her body. “My artist… “ She whispered the words under her breath, then spoke
them again aloud to make them real. “My artist… are you here for me?”
“Yes.” Alm drifted over to bench that visitor sat on, taking a rest from walking. “You are beautiful.”
Casey blushed the brightest red, warmth gathering in her cheeks until she was sure that steam would start coming out her ears any second. “My artist, you made me this beautiful. Can I show you?” She eagerly tipped one leg back to the glass door to crawl inside her display case and showcase all the poses she could make.
The artist just waved a hand above their knees. “No, it ok. I come some days and see. It is very good, you capture it. Perfect.” Still delighted with wide eyed smile, Casey turned back to the artist to set herself across from them. “Tell me… tell me your day. What you do, feelings… you know, how it is. That is important.”
“Yes my artist. Well, every day, when the gallery is open, I do my job here… but it is more than work, it’s is being work, your work.” She brought one leg up to cup over her lowest breasts like a normal woman would have cupped a hand over her chest when speaking from the soul. “Just like you said. They stare at me and I claim it, I give them your vision and they want it. My job is to be an idol, to be wanted.” Her foot moved closer, pacing around the pink folds of her frontward pussy with the hard skin of her heel. “And to want myself.”
“You understand it.” The artist nodded. “Perfect, like I say.”
“I’ve been saving myself…” Casey licked her lower lip, carefully using her Achilles’ tendon to stroke along her vulva. “I never go farther then this.” The artist was looking at her and Casey felt like she was the brightest light in the world, far to brilliant to be touched at all except by one pair of hands.
“Ahh…” Alm laughed weakly, squinting their silver eyes to avoid being blinded even further. “But I am no good for that. Nice to think so, but I cannot.”
She let her gaze fall, continuing to touch herself but now only in a superficial way. “Is it true what the other exhibits say, that you get worse every time you change us?”
They touched their fingertips together, feeling a chill spreading from one hand to another. “Yes. It is bad for me…”
“Then why do you do it?” It was terrible to know that she was the cause of their pain, at the same time having a sense that there was no regret in her creator at all and it was no wish of hers to stop them.
“How do you say… if it could, then it would?” Their hands clapped together. “I can, so I must. Simple. Do not feel bad.”
“I don’t… I just wanted to know.” She knew so much about them, and yet also so little, not even their native language, or if they had one at all. “What do you want me to do now?” “I want to change you.”
Casey’s heart skipped more than a few beats, forgetting how to breath briefly in her excitement. “Whateveryuude...” Ok, too excited, she had to catch her lips and annunciate. “Whatever form you desire my artist! I want to be your vision again, please!”
“Ah, ha… ha. You will, it is ok. I know you are very good for this, the best.”
She smiled slyly, slowly lifting her chin to display the part of her body she knew the artist loved the most. “Don’t you tell that to every exhibit, my artist?” They did talk amongst each other, so it came up often, though hardly in a competitive manner. Every exhibit displayed something different, so they accepted their differences. If only one could be the best, the artist would have made them all into mirror images.
Alm puffed out another little laugh like someone caught in the act of pilfering a cookie. “Well, I work with only best, so I do not lie.”
That made Casey smile even wider. “You are so true my artist, we know you love everyone you touch.
But I don’t want to be the best, I want to be your best.”
“You will, you will.” Not the first time they had heard an exhibit tell him that either, but Alm would let her have it. “You will be new design, first for gallery.”
She leaned closer, tilting her clustered body towards him as much as she could to catch every word. “Tell me everything.” The artist pointed to an adjoining wing and Casey shifted to move in that direction with Alm hobbling beside her. Both of them moved slowly, out of care for their precarious position and fragile physique.
“You are full of the want. Now I make you free, no more want.”
Casey understood exactly what the artist meant. “I will be like an island, completely my own.” Yet words meant nothing until she was sculpted with them in her flesh. “They will look at me and say, ‘she does not need me, she does not want me’… oh but this is such a wicked thing, my artist.” The two of them shared a giddy cackle.
“It is, it is. It is to be jealous, and ah… eh yes, despised! The eyes make all, so art that is ‘I no need you eyes, you look away, I am still me’ oh noo, it is evil.”
“I won’t be an idol anymore, I will be idolatry. Hedonism.” She couldn’t wait to see how it would feel, living as a being of pure pleasure and greed. The artist rarely changed an exhibit’s meaning so fully, she knew it meant that her canvas was beyond compare. The other exhibits would be so jealous to see how she was evolving, and that would be part of her as well.
They reached the table and stand holding the artist’s instruments. This was a room that held exhibits who had no desire to leave the gallery, even when visiting hours were over. The sunroof gave them all the natural light during the day and other exhibits would come to feed them at night.
Only two exhibits kept here were currently Elgia and Kiomie. Elgia was a large German woman whose body resembled a throne room chair, her skin reupholstered with azure fabric; also one of the few exhibits guests were allowed to interact with and sit on. She snored soundly asleep, while Casey waved with her foot at Kiomie, a smaller pink haired Vietnamese girl with a chest-like body encased in porcelain and a keyhole shaped vulva between her breasts.
“Oh, is Casey joining us?” Kiomie shifted her neck as much as her compact form allowed.
The artist nodded, stepping closer to where Philip set up their table next to the room’s open mantle place. Casey was silently thankful she was being placed in another room with only female exhibits, both roommates she was interested to learn more about in the time they would spend together. Her excitement peeked when she saw the vacant mantle place that would be her new display site.
She pulled her eyes back to the table at the artist’s voice calling her. “Can you lay on back?”
“I think so.” Climbing up onto the table turned out to not be as difficult as she thought, even if it was scary to abandon the stool which had been her form of locomotion for so long. When she had two pairs of legs on each side of the table, she slowly lowered her raspberry breasted body down on the table head. It was impossible to lay flat with all the tits on her back, but Alm seemed satisfied with her positioning and began preparing the tools on the drawer beside them.
“What if I miss this body?” It was a leading question. She was not worried about her form, simply wanting to hear what the artist would say.
“You miss first body too?” The artist looked over at her from their desk, meeting their bandaged smile with Casey’s thrilled grin.
“No. I want you to keep changing me forever.” What a selfish thing to say, knowing that the changes would hurt her precious artist. But she was a selfish and lustful thing now, already practicing the lines for her new role.
“Is sad. Pretty girl, now very pretty art.” The artist said in mock mourning. Moving towards the table, they silenced their canvas with gentle strokes over the breasts on Casey’s back that filled her throat with heavy sighs. “One day, I turn you back normal, and you say ‘oh, this new shape, so nice, what is this?’”
Both shared a giggle as the artists fingertips pushed in deeper into the warm orbs of fat, inverting Casey’s nipples as their fingers punctured her shape. Like deflating balloons, each breast gave a finally slight surge before sinking back into untouched skin.
The artist was able to work much faster then before, Casey’s flesh already knowing the stroke of their brush. Soon Alm had smoothed away everything above the hips, save for her original pair of tits, leaving only bare shoulder blades and a flat stomach. They moved to her legs, taking each foot and working the heel into itself to feed her thighs back into Casey’s butt. “HHnnghhnnnnnn, NNUGH!” Casey moaned and squealed on the table with the helpless body of a quadruple amputee as the artist tucked his thumb and fingers on the base of her four vaginal openings. Pinching her perineum inwards, the four cunts merged back into one, still four times as sensitive and large as before.
Two hard nipples sprouted under the artist’s hands where her legs had been, swelling larger with sustained attention of Alm’s fingers till the breast legs could sufficiently hold Casey’s enlarged pussy in place. Satisfied with her jiggling truncated rump, Alm returned to the head of the table and Casey’s missing arms. The formation of new bone was the least pleasant part of the process, and Casey had already clenched her mouth closed when the artist painfully extracted a new finger from the tip of her clavicle. “Hnn, shhhhit…”
The artist kept going with developing Casey’s hand, and then bicep, through her small spurts of anguish at the lengthy process. Alm cupped around Casey’s cheek with a free hand, sliding his palm against her chin. “Ah, no crying. It hurt, I know. Ignore it, focus here.” They dipped their index finger into Casey’s mouth which she hungrily latched onto the digit like a mother’s teat to distract herself from the stinging rebirth of her arms.
“MMmooooNnmmmh…” Casey hummed with the artist’s hand moving deeper into her mouth. Once her lips had locked over four fingers, she felt them thinning and yet turning all the more sensitive as the artist rotated her mouth along with their hand. Her teeth sunk back into tender gums while the artist stroked a thumb over the bridge of her nose and slowly pushed into it the widening oral slit of Casey’s face. Her mouth was on its way to becoming a new cunt, crowned by the twisting divot left by the tip of her nose settling into shape as a new clit that stuck out right between her eyes.
“MMmHmhOMMhmm!” Casey slobbered vaginal fluids over the artist’s hand as they kept fingering deeper into her face, till she could feel a cervix forming against her brain and overwhelming her
thoughts. She couldn’t smell or taste, and she defiantly couldn’t gag, each instinct being stripped away to make room for more carnal desire. The artist withdrew their hand just as Casey was getting close to christening her new mouth pussy with ejaculate. “MMmHhgnnnN!” She would finish it herself, finding the forgotten muscles of her arms to reach into her mouth. She had four limbs now, the back two sprouting from her scapula’s, each one with a hand that made its way to her lubricated vulva lips.
Her eyes rolled backwards, rubbing her red nasal clit with delight until her back spasmed off the table, a thick pump of hot ejaculate trickling over her chin and cheeks. “NnHHmMMOoMHnn!” Casey gargled, unable to either choak or speak properly, though all she had to say was cries of pleasure.
“I will not leave you mute.” The artist drew their hands over Casey’s chest, sticking a finger inside each of her nipples where the motion pressed outwards with sculpting circles inside her breasts. Casey leaned up to watch her areole turn an even deeper pink, ringed and puffy like overkissed lips. “Taking is too nice to lose.” Alm pinched into a wiggling tentacle within Casey’s boobs, dragging forth new tongues within each mammary like writhing squids.
“HhNng aahh, AhhhNn I’m… ahhahhh!” Both new lip nipples were too eager to speak, talking over each other in a reverberation of confusion and extasy. Casey’s right lipple licked around it’s cheek space to explore its home, letting her left breast mouth gasp again and try to reach coherence. “AHhhnn, this is so fucking good, finger me again, I want to cum even more.” It was more vulgar than Casey had meant to say, though the thoughts were still her own. She reached down over her body with all four arms to explore the changes, squeezing the boob stumps of her legs and rimming along both of her mouth nipples, while one hand remained fixated on stroking her mouth pussy.
The artist had stepped to the side and removed the package they were keeping wrapped in their coat. A huge ceramic dildo carved with detailed veins and bottomed by a thick metal base. “You set on this.” They placed it onto the mantle place, between two striped vases. “Never stopping.”
“Y-yes my artist.” Casey nodded groggily, flipping onto her front and using the four arms to climb up the mantelpiece like a spider. Her two far hands each took to one of the vases, while her back arms steadied herself against the wall, before dropping her hungry cunt onto the shaft that would be her permanent home.
“YYyYEEEESsss!” Casey’s left mouth cried, lust taking over her entire body as she began her eternal dance of thrusts on the perfectly fitted stone cock. “OOhh, yessss I’m g-going to fuucck myself forever!” The strength and support of her four arms would let her live in continuous penetration and climax. Every visitor would watch in disgusted awe while she fucked herself in front of them, knowing that they could go home and Casey would still be fucking herself, still cumming even when they had long taken their eyes off her. She wouldn’t need a single thing except this cock inside her, bouncing up and down as sure as the sun would rise and set. Shame was already dead to her, next she would erase her dignity to become the ultimate testament to want as the artist envisioned.
Alm stepped back to bask in Casey’s glory and catch their breath. The strength left their hands, reaching out franticly for the assistance of their cane to keep from collapsing. They hobbled over to Elgia and fell into the chairwoman’s lap to keep watching. “You are… perfect. Beautiful…”
Phillip passed by the hallway a few hours later, wincing at the rhythmic slopping noise of Casey’s body embracing her phallic pedestal. Alm was fast asleep, though the hidden leers from the three women in the room would keep him from entering any further and wake the artist from their enviable slow decay.
