It all started when I was out drinking one night with an artist friend of mine. I was in a long-distance relationship then and didn't get a chance to see my boyfriend very often. Over drinks, I admitted to my friend, Sarah, that I was horny all of the time and masturbated at least once a day. I even told her I fantasized about being tied up while strangers watched, touched, and fucked me until I came. I had never told anyone about that secret fantasy before. I still can't believe that I told her about it.
Sarah wasn't shocked or offended. She thought it might be a good concept for an art project. She asked me if I would consider doing some modeling work. Maybe nude?
I was drunk enough to tell her that it sounded interesting. The rest of the night, we talked about kinky sex. I even told her I like to have my boyfriend tie me up. I never told anyone about that before.
A few days later, she called me and asked me if I would help her with an art display that she wanted to do. She told me it would involve nude modeling in front of people I didn't know. It was a one-time thing for an art event. She said she got the idea from our conversation over drinks and wanted to see if I wanted to do it or if she should hire a life model.
Sarah can be very persuasive and talk people into almost anything when she wants to. So, I told her that I would do it. She said she needed me next weekend and told me the time and place to meet her.
Over the next few days, I asked her about it, but she just said it would be some nude posing. All I had to do was not move while people looked at me. It would be fun, but make sure not to be late.
I was nervous and unsure if I still wanted to do it, but Sarah told me that she was counting on me and it would be okay. She would be there with me.
When Saturday finally arrived, I went downtown to the address Sarah gave me. It was a fancy office building, and the security guard let me in.
Sarah smiled when she greeted me and told me she was glad I was doing this and thought I would love it. She told me to use the bathroom now because once I was in position, I wouldn't be able to until the show was over.
We walked to a place with a hole in the wall like there was a construction project. There was a ladder and some scaffolding. Sarah pulled curtains around us and asked me to strip down to my underwear. She told me we would keep them on while I got into position, then take them off later. I reluctantly undressed in front of her, keeping my bra and panties.
Sarah led me up the ladder to the scaffolding and asked me to lay on my stomach and crawl through the hole. I wasn't sure what she was up to, but I went along. When I was part way through, she told me to stop with my top on one side of the wall and my legs on the other.
Then she told me she would move my arms and legs into position. It might not be comfortable at first, but she would make sure that nothing hurt.
I let her pull my arms behind me and put my hands into two smaller holes in the wall. She made me arch my back, and I felt something soft around my wrists hold them in place. I looked back and saw they vanished into the wall just below the elbow, and I couldn't pull them out.
I was a little freaked out, but Sarah reassured me that she would stay with me and make sure I was okay. I calmed down and told her that nothing hurt.
Sarah went to the other side, and I felt her moving my legs. She spread them apart and bent them upwards, and I felt something soft around my ankles so that I couldn't move them either.
I felt Sarah adjust the straps around my midriff, wrist, and ankles. She wanted to ensure I was comfortable because I would have to stay that way for a while. I told her it didn't feel any worse than some of the things my boyfriend did to me when he tied me up, but we usually didn't do it sticking halfway through a wall.
Sarah carefully removed the scaffolding so that I was supported only by the straps.
I looked around. I was stuck halfway through the wall with my head, breasts, and upper body on one side and my lower body, including my legs, feet, and torso, on the other. My hands were stretched behind me on the other side, with my legs and feet.
It was as if I had dove head-first into the wall and somehow got frozen there. It made me a little light-headed because Sarah had my head lower than the rest of my body but pulled slightly up by my arms. My head was about the level of Sarah's crotch. Sarah said that was to make it look like I was diving.
I watched as Sarah carefully patched the holes around my torso and arms, so there wasn't any gap between my skin and the wall. I felt her put the wet filler around my feet, where they vanished back into the wall.
While she worked, she mentioned that she was calling the side of the exhibit with my head "Angel Descending," and the side with my legs, hands, and pussy was the "Hind Side of Angel Descending." She explained that it implied that I was an angel in the process of falling from grace. She mentioned that with the door she was using locked, the only way to get from one side of my display to the other was to walk the whole way through the exhibit, a 5-minute walk. My head was near the entrance, and my legs were at the far end.
Finally, she unsnapped my bra, and I felt my breasts spill out and dangle under me. Sarah told me she would buy me a new bra and cut the strap with a knife to take it off. I watched my breasts swing back and forth and wondered, belatedly, how many people would see them.
Next, I felt Sarah pull down my underwear to my legs, and then I didn't feel them anymore. She must have cut them off too. I realized Sarah spread my legs obscenely wide apart, and my pussy would be just about at eye level. Anyone standing behind me could look right down into my wide-open pussy.
I also realized that I was soaking wet.
Sarah didn't say anything else to me as she cleared the partitions from around us and locked the door she used to move from one side to the other. I was a little freaked out.
Mounted the way I was, I stared at the floor. I could lift my head and look around, but it wasn't comfortable.
I didn't have to wait long before the first very well-dressed art patrons walked by and looked at me. Some talked about me like I wasn't there. Some spoke to me, but most didn't, maybe because I couldn't make eye contact unless I turned my head up. My hair hung down and covered my face unless I turned my head.