Statuesque

I’d never been to this fetish club before -- but one peculiar piece of decoration immediately caught my eye: On a short plinth next to the dance floor stood a glossy black statue. It was lit in blue light from below, slowly pulsating, throwing its spread out legs and outstretched arms into relief. Its proportions were strangely brutish, as if the sculptor had taken an ordinary human form and just inflated it by 10%, losing all detail in the process. Blotchy fingers were fused together, the face was one blank area with just the smallest indication of a nose and a mouth.

I walked around the statue several times, admiring it. On a closer look however I noticed a tiny seam running down both sides of it. It was really hard to notice, especially in the dim light of the club. And looking more closely, I saw small holes dotted along the seam. There was a seam around the crotch area with its strangely bloated cock as well, with the same kinds of holes.

Intrigued, I asked one of the regulars about the meaning of this. He explained the whole story to me:

“It’s not a statue, it’s a bondage device. It was donated by one of the guys who thought it fitted better in here than in his home.

“It has a fibreglass shell that’s lined with neoprene, fitted to the precise body shape of the owner. The two halves latch together, using a hex key fitted into the small holes to turn the latches and close the device up. Of course once you’re in there there’s no way to get out. It’s fitted so tightly that you can’t move a single muscle.

“It also has a gag that goes into your mouth for breathing, and nostril tubes that end on the top of the head so you can’t see them. You want to know why that cock on it is so thick and stubby? Because there’s a Venus-type milking machine inside. And the back half can be fitted with a vibrator that can be controlled remotely.

“And those blue lights? They only turn on when there’s an occupant inside. They pulsate with the rhythm of the breathing. So right now while we’re standing here, there’s a guy inside there, held immobile. Gagged, plugged, unable to do anything, while all around him the party is going on.”

The regular led me to the plinth and opened a small door on the side. Inside there were two dials. Both were set to zero at the time. “These two dials control the vibrator and the milking machine.”

He smiled at me and said “Let’s give him a little stimulation. Just so that he knows we’re thinking of him. Not enough for him to cum, but enough for him to have a good time.” He gave both dials a small twist, and putting my hands on the shell I could feel a very slight vibration, as well as a rhythmic pattern. The pulsating of the light got slightly faster too.

With that, the regular closed the small door again. “By the end of the night he’ll be pretty done … but let’s have a little fun of ourselves now while he stews.” He led me away to a different part of the darkroom, but I couldn’t help glancing back over my shoulder at the black statue on the dancefloor, and its occupant, caught in the middle of the party with no way to participate, helpless over the stimulation he was receiving.