Chapter 1

Sammy had heard about the gallery from a friend of a friend, who had heard from someone else, and so on. In the end, she googled the name, and went to visit that Saturday. It was a small place in what looked like it was once a warehouse. Unfortunately, when she got there, the lights were off and the door was locked. As she was getting back into her car she heard someone call out from behind her.

"Oh, sorry! We're not open today." Sammy turned around to see a man coming out from the door she'd just tried. "We're trying to get a new exhibit set up. You see, we kind of do performance art things here, and so there's a lot of preparation that goes into it."

"That's cool. When do you plan on opening?" Sammy replied as she got back out of the car.

"Well, it was supposed to be yesterday, but one of our artists is unavailable, so we'll have to find a replacement."

"I see, can't you just put up some advertisements or something?"

The man looked around, and ran a hand through his hair. "Unfortunately not, we're a somewhat specialized gallery, so we need to find someone who's comfortable with bondage and nudity. You can't just put that on craigslist and find someone. The university art program also isn't good, because they tend to not be too supportive of things that could be controversial."

"Oh wow, I can't wait to see this then, that sounds like it could be awesome! I just thought this was a regular local art gallery, but that's even better!"

"Really? I guess I didn't expect a cute girl like you to be into weird things like that."

Sammy let out a quick giggle, "You have no idea, um ... Mr... ?"

"Fujioka, Tom Fujioka, sorry."

"Samantha, Sammy though," she said as she unconsciously looked down to the sidewalk.

"Nice to meet you, Sammy. If you're really into bondage stuff, would you be interested in participating in the show?"

Sammy looked back up, "I don't think so, I'm really kind of shy about things like that, and I wouldn't want to have to deal with any bad publicity or stuff like that."

"No, the position we need to fill would be completely anonymous. No one would ever know it's you in the show. The part is completely covered for the entire thing, so even if you have a tattoo or anything you think might be identifying, no one will see it. The only problem is that we plan on running all weekend, so you'd have to be able to commit full time for that entire weekend."

"Huh, ok, that's kind of a long time."

"I know, and since this is just a small art show, we can't really pay much more than minimum wage," Tom mentioned, again nervously looking around.

"How much total?" Sammy asked.

"It's $400, from 2pm on Friday to 9pm that Sunday straight. If you're interested, we could work with your schedule, but we might start losing other performers, so we're trying to push for next weekend. Are you interested?" Tom asked with a hopeful look on his face.

"Well, I'd have to take some time off at work on Friday, but I think that'd be ok. What all does it involve?"

"The idea is to suspend a set of girls in these see-through sealed plastic bags, each of them posed in different erotic positions, and then the air pulled out to hold them in place. The main artist designed the bags herself, and has thoroughly tested them to be sure they're totally safe and that they can breathe and all that."

"See-through? I thought you said that I'd be anonymous?"

"Yeah, the bag is transparent, but the position we need to fill is our 'mummy', you'd be totally covered in gauze and stuff, so you're obscured."

"I see. Huh. I didn't think about that. Well, I guess that sounds kind of interesting."

"So you're in?"

"Well, it's a bit weird to say yes standing out here on the street."

"Oh, I'm sorry, let's go inside, and I can show you the bags, and if you're ok with it, we can sort out the contract?"

"Contract?"

"We're not some shady operation here, if we're going to pay you, we have to get all sorts of tax stuff done, and we have to do the contract to cover liability things. I used to work in a regular painting gallery, and we never had to deal with all this paperwork, but then again, paintings get boring after awhile, always looking at the same thing. With this performance art, it's different every time. But yeah, there's the contract and paperwork to sort out."

"Ok, let's go take a look," Sammy replied with a quick smile.

Tom led her into the gallery, took her back to the back room, and pulled one of the bags off the shelf to show her. It was huge, measuring six feet wide and six feet tall. There was a small black port centered about a third of the way down ("for breathing," Tom mentioned). The outer edges were much thicker than the main part, reinforcing the entire thing. There was what looked like a seam on the back along one of the long edges, offset about six inches from the edge. "That's how it releases, there's a special tool to pop open the seal, which unfortunately ruins the bag permanently. It's this one way seal that allows the whole thing to work, I guess," Tom explained with a shrug.

He stood back, letting Sammy run her hand over the material.

"I'm in. Let's do that contract," Sammy said without looking away from the bag.

"Great! I'm sure you'll enjoy yourself," said Tom as he led her from the storage room to an office to do the paperwork.

Six days later, Sammy was parking her car in the back lot that she had been told about. She'd gone home after work, and taken a long shower ("since I'm going to be stuck in that thing for the weekend," she'd said to herself). She walked around to the front of the gallery, and knocked. A few moments later, a girl about her age opened the door, "Yeah?" she said with an annoyed sigh.

"Um, I'm Sammy, and I was here last week, and I signed up to..."

The girl cut her off mid-sentence, "Come on, we don't have a lot of time to get you ready, you were supposed to be here at noon."

"Noon, no, I was told 2:00," Sammy tried to explain.

"Look, I don't care if you can't tell the damn time, I have a bunch of work to finish before the opening tonight. I don't need you making excuses as to why you're trying to screw my show."

"I don't want to do anything of the sort, I just thought it was 2:00," Sammy said as she followed the girl through the front of the gallery. "I..." at this point, Sammy noticed that there were two of the bags already hanging in the gallery, presumably the performers that had gotten there on time. Sammy had to walk quickly to keep up with the girl, but tried to study both of the bags as she walked past.

In the first, she saw a girl dressed up like a cheerleader. She was posed so that it looked like she was in mid jump, with her hair pulled up in a plume above her head. Her arms were spread out towards the corners, and she was holding a bulge of color in each hand. Sammy didn't quite understand it, but then hit on the fact that she was holding pom poms, but once the air had been removed from the bag, they'd deflated into the bulge that she could see.

Letting her gaze continue down, Sammy saw that the skirt of the cheerleader outfit was pulled up to keep up the look that she was jumping. That left her panties visible, and the pressure from the bag had forced it to conform to her body's shape, leaving nothing to imagination. The girl's feet were covered in white socks. At the very bottom, her sneakers were suspended in place, looking just like they would in a shoebox, but sealed in plastic and hovering in midair.

Moving past that bag, Sammy saw that the second bag was far more explicit. The girl in this bag was completely naked, with her hair in two pigtails that had been pulled out in a straight line from side to side. Her legs were bent in half to make a kind of W shape, with her feet up near her waist. To complete the picture, her hands were down in her crotch, with her fingers holding her labia spread wide open. Sammy kind of stumbled to a stop when she saw this, surprised that the girl was that bold.

She noticed that the girls' mouths were help open around the black ring she'd seen the previous weekend. They were suspended fairly high up, but Sammy could see the pink of the roof of their mouths as she stared.

"God, come on! You're the most complicated costume, and you're two hours late! What is your problem?" the girl shouted back when she realized Sammy had stopped following her.

"I'm sorry, I was just surprised by" Sammy started.

"Oh fuck, are you going to back out now? You are here to ruin me. Who put you up to this? What did I ever do to you?"

"No, no, no, I'm sorry, let's go, I'm not backing out, I'm sorry I'm late, what should I do?" Sammy stuttered out as she ran over to the girl.

"Fine, here, I need you to strip down in the workspace back here, and then shut up so I can get you prepared," the girl said as she led Sammy back to a large padded area in a back room. "Strip down, and put your shit in that basket," the girl ordered.

"Last week Tom said I'd need to bring my social security card for him to finish the contracts?" Sammy mentioned.

"I don't care, just put that on top of your clothes, and I'll tell him about it later."

"Ok," Sammy said as she started to take off her clothes, "So you're the artist? I'm Sammy, and"

"I said I don't fucking care, didn't I? Just get naked so I can get you done. Christ, are you dumb or something?"

Sammy immediately closed her mouth, and finished undressing. She sat in the large chair that the girl pointed to, and sat down.

"Slide forward so I can get this in place," the girl said as she pulled on rubber gloves and started pouring lube on a catheter she'd removed from its package.

"Wait, what's that for?"

"Damn it, you signed that stupid contract he made me write up. It's like 'section 5: waste issues' or some other crap like that. Look, you're going into this thing for three days. I don't want to have to get a mop when you come out to clean up your piss. This goes in the front, there's the plug for the back. Did you not read any of the details?"

"Oh," said Sammy with a start, upon realizing that she hadn't read any of the details, mostly because she was too busy keeping track of the paperwork Tom had said she needed to bring back for him to get his tax stuff done. "Yeah, sorry, I guess I forgot, sorry for interrupting again."

Sammy heard the girl mutter, "stupid bitch," under her breath while she spread Sammy's lips open to insert the catheter. There was a sharp pinch feeling as it went in, then an odd full feeling as the balloon holding it inside her inflated. "These are next, unless you don't remember that either," said the girl with a mocking imitation of Sammy's voice as she held up two metal balls. She lubed them up, and handed them to Sammy to slide into her own vagina. Once they were in place, she pulled a strip of medical tape, and used it to tape Sammy's lips closed, holding the balls inside, and forcing the catheter up against her clitoris.

"Stand up, turn around, bend over," the girl commanded. Sammy complied, and felt a lubed finger slide into her ass suddenly. She gasped, but it nearly turned into a choke when the finger pulled back out, and a large mass started pushing instead. "Relax, this has to go in. Just push like you're trying to shit it back out, and it'll go in." Sammy did as she was told, and could feel the plug slowly stretch her asshole out. "Almost there," said the girl, almost reassuringly. Sammy was starting to fear she was going to split open when she felt the plug slide home, and her ass close down around the neck of the plug. "There, now you're being a good girl." Sammy could feel her heart jump a bit at her first positive interaction with the girl.

"Final part of this step," said the girl as she pulled the rubber gloves off her hands and threw them into the trash. She pulled a rubber ring from her pile of supplies, along with a tube of something. "Sit back down and hold still," she said as she squeezed the contents of the tube into a groove along one side of the ring. Sammy sat down delicately, feeling the plug pushing into her as she put her weight on it. As the girl walked back over, she could feel each step vibrating through the floor, up the chair, through the plug, and deep into her body.

"Open up," the girl said, opening her own mouth as an example. Sammy did so, only to have the ring pushed into her mouth. The girl spun it, and used her fingers to ensure that Sammy's teeth and lips were where she wanted them. Sammy could feel the paste from the tube on her lips, and could feel that the ring encased her lips in the groove, holding them open in a circle. Beyond this, the ring had another groove for her front teeth, with a block in the back for her molars, ensuring that her mouth would stay open. "There. Maybe that'll keep you quiet so I can work," the girl said as she walked away. She went over to the door, leaving Sammy sitting on the chair. "Hey! Assholes! If this is going to be on time, I'm going to need your help."

The girl returned, and two other people walked through the door a minute later, leaving Sammy to blush and try to cover up. "You know what to do," the girl said to her assistants. "You," she said, turning to Sammy, "just need to stand exactly where I tell you to, and not move unless you're told to." Sammy nodded.

The girl and her assistants immediately went to work. They pulled out a box of gauze wrappings, and started wrapping Sammy's arms. Each finger was wrapped separately, then the gauze ran up her arms to the shoulder. While the assistants were doing this, the girl was busy working on Sammy's head. She quickly wrapped a band around Sammy's forehead, and then spiraled down to just past her nose. She flipped Sammy's hair up, and wrapped back up. Finally, she let Sammy's hair fall back down, and wrapped it again, sandwiching it all between layers of gauze on the back of her head. With that taken care of, she started to do her main wrap, spiraling up and down Sammy's head until it was covered, with the only gap being for the gag in her mouth.

The girl then continued down Sammy's neck, and worked with the assistants to blend their wrapping together. She started some new rolls, and used them to weave the gauze down around Sammy's torso. She ran the gauze between Sammy's legs, and then back up where she tucked in the ends to hold them in place.