What's that you say? it would not be the same without who?
Hermione Stranger: Hermione Danger
By Skinnie Stallion
(Version 2)
1. Thursday morning
Rachel was very happy with how Steve had turned out. With a clear, invisible coat rather than their standard black latex epoxy, the workshops had done him proud. The Emma Watson mask and wig designed by the make-up girls looked perfect. She’d enjoyed dressing Steve before the shift started. As she expected, the girls in the workshop had already plugged him. She asked maintenance to mount him on the podium and brought out the ‘My Hermione Barbie’ banner. She wanted to get Steve out on the floor and management sign-off before doors opened.
When she was happy that she’d got Steve positioned just right, she asked her floor supervisor to come over. She was easy to spot in her pink blazer briefing some of the newer B&K Boys. “So this is what I’ve done for the Dollification promotion, Madam Stamp” she advised. “I present to you the ‘My Hermione Barbie’. With the 25th anniversary next year, we thought the Emma Watson doll template would be ideal to use in a dedicated promotion for the new My Barbie Boy Dollification range.”
Rachel waited nervously while Madam Stamp inspected the display. Anything going out on the floor needed her approval. Rachel’s nerves settled quickly as she watched a beaming smile grow on her supervisor’s face. “That’s very impressive Rachel. Choose four from those whose guardians failed to tick the ‘No Display’ option.” She examined again the startled face of the mannequin. “God, I love that. Is that really Steve Ranger in there? I wouldn’t have known. Have you needed to put his Hummer on high to achieve that look or is it in the mould?”
“Mostly in the mould, but I did think keeping him on a medium setting will be nice for him and help to keep his mouth gaping,” replied Rachel turning at the sound of the shutters going up and store’s doors opening.
“Good idea,” agreed Madam Stamp. “It could get very messy if he’s on high all day. A few little moans won’t matter.”
“Should I speak to HR to go through the boys’ application forms?” Rachel asked.
“Yes, please do.” Both Madam Stamp and Rachel noted that a small crowd was starting to form around them and the display. There was already a buzz of excitement developing. “And don’t take too long about it. If you can’t find any with ‘No Display’ unchecked, just select some of the newest Boys, or more experienced ones who may like going back to being mannequins. I’m sure many of our Boys long to look like Emma Watson, especially an Emma Watson in latex. I want them out on the floor by tomorrow afternoon, if possible, to catch the weekend shoppers. And Rachel, darling ….”
“Yes, Madam Stamp?” answered with surprise; she was unused to be called ‘darling’ by Madam Stamp. She was clearly in her good books today.
“Transparent is fine for the upper half and as an undercoat, but please have the boys dipped up to the waist in our traditional black. I think the Emmas’ legs would look better if they were wearing black latex stockings and they’ll blend in better with our standard mannequins.”
“Yes, Madam Stamp,” replied Rachel already wondering why she hadn’t thought of that herself. Shiny black latex legs would look better. She guessed that was why Madam Stamp was a supervisor and she wasn’t. Maybe it would come with experience.
2. Saturday morning
As he shaved his legs, Oscar hoped that this was going to be his big break. If he could just get the inside story, he could stop being a freelance. He could become the youngest cub reporter on the Argus. The story might even find its way to Fleet Street. He just needed to get that scoop.
Yesterday he’d heard about the crush outside one of the stores in town. He’d tried to get through the crowds but it was too near closing time and they weren’t allowing any more people into the store. Bergman and Knightley. A fashion store. An upmarket fashion store. Very exclusive. And yet there were hordes of young girls and boys outside, and many older women. There was lots of talk about Harry Potter and Hermione. It seemed as if Bergman and Knightley had become like Madam Tussaud’s. But what had caught his ear was a rumour. A familiar rumour that he’d heard before in some bars. He’d even heard something similar in the playground when he was still ay school from boys who had Saturday jobs or had older brothers. Rumours that some of the sales assistants at Bergman and Knightley were actually boys. Rumours that some of the mannequins on the shop floor were actually boys encased in a hard lacquer. He had to get into the store today and find out of the rumours were true. He had to get that story.
3. Sunday morning
Rachel knocked hesitantly on Madam Short’s door. She hated going to see the Floor Manager but Sunday was Madam Stamp’s day off this week. There was a pause then a peremptory bark of “Enter.” Simone went in feeling like a naughty schoolgirl on the carpet before the Headmistress for a reprimand or punishment. “What is it?” the stern looking blonde lady asked. “Chloe, isn’t it? Chloe Collins?”
Simone couldn’t help but be impressed by how Madam Short remembered the names of all the floor staff: all the more permanent B&K Girls like her, and all the B&K Boys even the new ones despite the numbers coming though these days. “It’s about the Hermiones for the Dollification Promotion, Madam Short.”
“What about the Hermiones?” the martinet asked sternly.
“Well, when I spoke to my supervisor during the week, she wanted four of the new Hermiones put out on the floor.”
“Yes, Madam Stamp told me. Very fitting they look too. Perfect for our Emma Watson tribute. We do need to catch up with B⚥y? in that regard.”
“So I arranged on Friday to put out Nigel Ford, Steve Ranger, Jacob Nightingale and Simone Simmons. None of them had ticked the right boxes except Simone who volunteered to be a Hermione. Madam Stamp had wanted the Hermiones to have latex coated legs like our other mannequins so I needed to get Nigel and Simone dipped, Steve redipped, and Jacob solvent dipped to take off his full black epoxy coat then redipped in transparent and then black dipped to the waist.”
“This is all very commendable Miss Collins, but what are you trying to tell me?”
“Well, the workshops managed to redip Steve overnight on Thursday, and dip and plug Nigel on Friday morning so that he was out for the lunchtime shoppers.”
“Yes, both looked very fetching,” commented Madam Short. “There were so many people in the store yesterday afternoon after the schools finished for the day. Word must’ve got around quickly. So many young girls wanting to see the Hermiones.”
“Yes, but the workshops got rather stuck on Jacob. It took longer than they expected getting him clean in the solvent tank so that they didn’t manage to dip him again till yesterday evening, and they never got to Simone.”
“So that was why we still only had two Hermiones out on Saturday?” queried Madam Short.
“That’s right,” confirmed Rachel. “I let Simone go home yesterday evening since she had a date with her boyfriend, and I thought it would be nice for her to get a good hard fucking before she spends the next six weeks as a plugged Hermione Barbie Doll.”
“Quite,” agreed Madam Stamp. “But I’m still not clear what the problem is, Miss Collins.”
“Well, last night we had two Hermiones on the shop floor. This morning we have three.”
“What!?” exclaimed Madam Short.
“We now have three Hermiones.”
“Yes, I heard you the first time. But how?” challenged Madam Short.
“I don’t know. I checked the workshops and Jacob is hung up over the drip tray drying, and enjoying a few last moments with his plug on high before he’s dressed and put out on the floor. I called Danielle on her mobile and she was still in bed with her boyfriend getting what sounded like a very nice wake-up call. So somehow, we’ve acquired a new Hermione overnight.”
“You have to show me,” commanded Madam Short standing up from her desk and marching towards her office door. Rachel followed. It was obvious Madam Short was on the warpath.
Rachel guided Madam Short across the floor to the first station. “So this is Nigel Ford. I posed him as Hermione about to duel: legs spread and wand erect.”
“Excellent. If it weren’t for this difficulty, I’d be proposing to Madam Stamp that you and he receive a bonus for this alone. He looks so dynamic. Quite the action doll. That’s how we want customers to see our Dollies.”
“Thank you Madam Short.”
“Hold on, you haven’t got it yet, young lady. Who’s next? We need to get this sorted before the store opens. Thank goodness for ten o’clock opening on Sunday.”
Rachel shepherded Madam Stamp towards the second stand where a Hermione stood proudly in a latex robe bearing her Gryffindor crest. A wide eyed, slightly startled look was etched on the Hermione’s face.
“This Steve Ranger,” said Rachel.
“Very nice too,” said Madam Short, “ but where’s his wand?”
“I don’t know, Madam Short. I’m sure he had one yesterday at closing, but the schoolgirls do keep taking them. I carry a few spares on me because of all the replacements we’ve needed,” said Rachel reaching behind her to draw a wand from her waistband.
“No, leave it for now,” said Madam Stamp. “Let me see the third please.”
Rachel led her across to a platform without a banner beside it. “This is our mystery Hermione.”
“I see” said Madam Short looking closely at the unlabelled Hermione doll in a perfect latex dress brandishing a wand. She turned to look at the other two Hermiones. Rachel stayed silent while Madam Short pondered. Eventually she spoke, “Not quite a three pipe problem, as Sherlock Holmes used to say, but a poser nevertheless. You said that Madam Stamp had wanted all the Hermiones to be black latex dipped to the waist.”
“Yes, Madam Short,” replied Rachel.
“And plugged too?”
“Yes,” said Rachel, “with our standard Hummingbird.”
“Hmmm. Please can you call Security, Miss Collins?”
“Certainly Madam Short.” Rachel worried that the Guards were going to be for her and that she about to be put into the disciplinary system. She returned shortly accompanied by several security guards. Others appeared to cover the exits.
“Now let’s go back to Steve Ranger again, please?” As they strolled back to the second stand, Madam Short said, “I assume you leave their Hummers off overnight. Is that correct?”
“Yes, Madam Short,” confirmed Rachel.
“Good. Please turn Steve’s Hummer up to Maximum Thrust,” instructed Madam Stamp as they stood beside the robed mannequin.
“Maximum? No build up? And Thrust not Vibrate?” enquired Rachel, aware of what a fierce jolt it would give the boy.
“Maximum Thrust!” repeated Madam Short sounding like a drill sergeant. “And that was an order not a request.” Rachel moved the slider on her iPad. A few yards away there was first a moan as the unlabelled Hermione convulsed and then a crash as the mannequin toppled sideways to the ground. Security raced to pick-up the collapsed boy.
Rachel was shocked. Steve Ranger hadn’t moved. “Turn it down now, please,” ordered Madam Stamp. While Rachel adjusted the slider again, Madam Short stood behind Steve and eased aside his Hermione robe. “I thought you said, all Hermiones were black latex dipped to the waist and plugged.” Before Rachel could reply, Madam Short thrust a finger upwards through his latex panties into his bottom. “But seemingly not as this one,” as a male voice screamed out in excruciating pain.
4. Sunday Afternoon
Rachel had never been so grateful that Sunday was a short day and that the store closed at three o’clock. It might have been a short day but it had been eventful. Eventful but with a bonus: she would soon have five Hermiones on the shop floor for the Dollification promotion.
The interrogation hadn’t taken long. The impostor had been bundled into a back room by Security. It might be a medieval approach but Madam Short knew that the old instruments worked without fail: he cracked merely at the sight of the anal pear. He immediately blurted that he was a reporter trying to infiltrate Bergman and Knightley. A reporter intent on defaming Bergman and Knightley and its good work with young men. He’d got into the store on Saturday and had hidden at closing time The workshop had been locked but he’d found an Emily Watson mask in a side-room. He’d taken a Hermione dress from the racks and then shuffled poor Steve aside to assume his place. Somehow he’d eluded Security who must’ve mistaken him for one of the ‘regular’ Hermiones. He protested that they couldn’t detain him but Madam Short had other ideas when he revealed he was just a freelance and no-one knew about the story he was working on.
By eleven o’clock, Jacob was dressed and out on the shop floor. By twelve o’clock, the intruder had been plugged and dipped. By two o’clock, he was dry and Rachel started to dress him. By three o’clock after closing, maintenance were ready to move him out on to floor to be in place for opening on Monday. At four o’clock, Rachel admired her handiwork and adjusted the slider on her iPad. Oscar would have gasped as the plug in his bottom started to vibrate except he couldn’t. He was unable to move his jaw. His whole body was held rigid in a latex epoxy casing but Rachel could see him quivering. Everything was in working order. She lowered the vibration setting and gave him a little good night kiss. Her newest and unplanned Hermione.
As Rachel sat on her bus home, she opened her iPad and Oscar’s Hummingbird surged back into life. Oscar couldn’t believe what was happening to him. His investigation had turned into a nightmare. He was trapped. No-one knew he was here. No-one would recognise him behind his Emma Watson mask. And despite all that, he was being remotely teased into a state of sexual excitement like he’d never experienced before. He would have been embarrassed except there was no-one to see him or know it was him in the deserted store.
And it had all been a waste of time. There was never going to be a scoop. Apparently it was common knowledge that Bergman and Knightley as their sales assistants. It just happened that Bergman’s dressed them all as girls. How had he missed that?
As he soundlessly moaned with pleasure and despair at the relentless pulse of his Hummingbird, little did he know that tomorrow morning, the Bergman and Knightley Sales Team would be posting his details in their next auction catalogue. While he might not be a trained B&K Boy, there were buyers and Harry Potter fans in the Far East who would appreciate their very own Hermione Doll. In six week’s time, part of his wish would be fulfilled: he’d no longer be a Hermione mannequin on the shop floor. Instead, in six week’s time, he would be sold, crated and despatched to an ardent Emma Watson fan for a handsome price. There was a story to be had about human traffic if he had known. Now he would become his very own story.
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What a start to a Wednesday and a new month! Lovely translations from our friend Girlie; some interesting artwork from Matty who looks like a great new find; Kate looking serene and magisterial; while Carol and Keira show why they'll always be the real queens of your Blog. (Emma still rules too but through the story.)
ReplyDeleteThank you for posting my Hermione story. (A real surprise since I'd wondered whether you'd liked it.) However, my apologies to you and your readers for the typos and particularly the errors at the start of Section 3 where Rachel mysteriously seems to have become Simone/Chloe for a paragraph. My apologies.