© Copyright 2011 - Jo - Used by permission
Storycodes: M/f; wrap; tape; cocoon; bag; buried; display; cons; X
Until today, Tamika's tit was the oddest project I'd approved. It was a collage of all sorts of tits called appropriately enough 'The Breast.' There were photos, tits made of paper mache, furry tits, it was both photographic and tactile - which brings me to the odd part. She wanted a live tit included. So she mounted a box in the wall with a hole in the top and for exhibit weekend she lay on a shelf behind the wall with her tit dangling. Did I mention the tactile part? So why was she surprised when she found herself being groped repeatedly? Ah, the things we do for art.
"I call it 'Bubbles'. I was going to call it 'Balls' because they remind me of Christmas ornaments, but you know where that would lead."
I looked at the proposal. Included was a sketch of the work showing a large white ball with several smaller, colored balls scattered around.
"See, it's kind of like the large bubble is the mother and the little ones are her offspring leaving the nest."
"I see. Hm. Well, it's nice enough in a derivative kind of way. I mean, you see similar displays in every store during the holidays. But I expected more from you, Stacey. Show me something original, okay?"
"I'll be in the white ball."
"Not all of me. Just my head. I'll be buried and the bubble will be over my head, kind of like a helmet."
"And the point of that would be?"
"I'll be part of the work and I'll get to look at people looking at my work. I've always had this thing about people looking at art and wondered what the art must see."
"Kind of like a 'Night at the Museum' kind of thing?"
"Exactly! What if the painting you were looking at was actually looking back?"
"So they'll be watching you watching them?"
"Uh uh. The bubble will have a reflective film on it. I'll be able to see out, but they can't see in."
"I figure it'll give me a chance to experience being part of the work and see people's honest reactions to it."
"Where did you plan to display Bubbles?"
"It's in there, a couple of pages in."
I flipped through the proposal.
"There! The athletic fields are as much a park as a sports complex and there are all these flower beds. See? I like this one the best because it's on a hill and it'll give a dynamic sense to the bubbles spilling out."
The nice thing about being an art teacher is that I can enjoy all my perversions in the name of art. Hey! It's my job. Besides, if you don't get it, it must be you.
"Okay. I see that. What about the logistics? You need the bubbles and a way to secure them. You know that they'll "walk" during the night."
"Thought of that. I'll mount them on a frame staked to the ground and fill the area with mulch to hide it."
Be still my quaking heart. Cute little Stacey buried up to the neck with a bubble over her head that's staked to the ground? Do you think I'm going to approve the project? Does a bear ... well, never mind.
"Okay. What about you?"
"Yeah, buried I mean."
"I'm cool with it. I figure I can just sit in the hole during the day and come out at night."
"But then you'd miss half of the experience, now wouldn't you? Being part of the work means you should be there when there are people around and when there aren't, right?"
"Yeah. I can see that. But what about food, water, bathroom breaks? It'll be three whole days."
"Well, you don't need food. You can have a jug of fortified water or sports drink to sip on. And as for using the toilet, if your gut is empty, that won't be an issue. And if you have to pee, pee. Who'll know?"
"Yeah, I guess. Oh, what about bugs? That was what I wanted to ask you. I mean, I don't mind being buried and I'm not particularly afraid of bugs, but I wouldn't want them crawling on me, you know?"
"We'll think of something. For now, finish the proposal for submission. But eliminate the part of you being buried. They'll never approve of that. Insurance. You understand."
Stacey and I loaded the bubble frame into my truck and drove to my studio. Once inside she peeled off her jeans and t-shirt. Beneath it she wore a black leotard and tights. I'd like to say she was drop-dead gorgeous, with long flowing blond hair, enormous tits, and a big, firm, heart-shaped ass. I'd like to say that, but the truth is that Stacey is one of those generic, cute, coeds. Tits a bit more than a handful, but not much. (She was sans bra, so there was that.) Still hadn't quite grown into her body yet. Kind of coltish. Mousey brown hair in a ponytail. Like I said, your basic, college student.
I fiddled with the cameras. I had been filming from the beginning. We have to documents these things, don't we?
"Did you, er, take care of things?"
"Yeah. I took the pill you gave me and spent the night on the john and this morning I gave myself the enema. So I'm good to go, or not, pardon the pun." She giggled nervously.
"Good. Well, let's do it."
I positioned her in front of the cameras and picked up a roll of white, stretchy tape. I peeled some off and pressed it against her belly.
"Just keep your arms down at your sides. That's right."
I pulled the tape over her wrist and across the small of her back, across the other wrist, and worked my way down. I worked slowly. I was going to enjoy this. Smoothing the tape as I went, I wrapped her down to her ankles, then worked my way back up, over her thighs and ass, belly, and up over her tits. I rubbed my hands over her tits to ensure a good seal (yeah, right). She didn't object.
"Mm," she nodded.
"Okay. We'll do this twice more. With three layers, not only won't the bugs have a way in, you won't even feel them if they're there."
"Mm." And another nod.
When I'd finished the next two wraps I eased her onto the table and wrapped her feet, again three times, covering her feet and legs up to her knees.
"Okay. Almost done."
Another nod. I could tell she was distinctly uncomfortable, but I kept my voice light and cheery and kept wrapping.
I stood her up and pulled the white stocking over her head, knotted it and cut off the excess. The nylon was a bit baggy and didn't distort her face. Once wrapped it'd be snug enough.
"This way your nose and eyes will be covered, but you'll still be able to see and breathe."
I wrapped her shoulders and neck up to her chin. I poked a hole in the nylon and pushed the tube into her mouth.
"How's that? Too much, too little, just right?"
She nodded. "Ish fine."
"Good. Almost done."
I wrapped her head several times, leaving a one-inch gap over her eyes and her nostrils free, then eased her back onto the table.
"This is how we're going to extract you from the hole."
I held up the canvas body bag. I couldn't see her eyes, but I'd bet they were like saucers. We hadn't discussed this.
"I figured I can just yank you out without having to dig you out. It'll be quicker, less chance of someone seeing. These straps are sewn and riveted. All I have to do is hook up the hoist and, Pop!, out you'll come. Okay."
I got an mmf.
I lifted her legs and tugged the bag up her legs.
"Can you raise your bottom?"
She did and I pulled the bag up to her chest. Sitting her up a bit I got the bag up and over her shoulders.
"Now all we have to do it lace it up and you're good to go."
I caught up with the groundskeeper just as he finished with the hole. He had a large auger fixed to the back of the tractor and was running it in and out of the ground.
"You wanna check it?"
I gave him a thumbs up. I probed with my tape measure and held my hands up about six inches apart. He plunged the auger into the hole a couple of times. I measured again. It was a half foot too deep, but I could just dump some of the dirt back in. I gave him another thumbs up and he drove off.
I waited while a couple of joggers went by and, when the coast was clear, slid my neatly packaged Stacey out of the truck and into the hole. I pulled the bubble array out, too, and positioned it to block the view.
Burying her was such a pleasure.
"I'm going to take my time. If anything hurts just mmf, okay?"
She nodded, sort of.
I got the cameras rolling and started shoveling dirt into the hole. Watched it cover her feet and climb up her legs, then hips, cover her tits, until it came to her chin.
I dug a small hole behind her and set the plastic jug into it, snaked the plastic tube around her head and clipped it to the one in her mouth.
A second later green fluid moved through the tube. Another small nod.
"Okay, kiddo, here we go!"
I picked up the end of the array and positioned the large ball over her head. There was a large hole cut in the bottom as well as several smaller holes around its perimeter. The smaller ones had been lined with bits of stocking, so she should be critter free. At least that was the plan.
I oriented the display and drove the stakes into place. These were j-shaped pieces of re-bar about a foot and a half long. There were a dozen. About eight too many, but you can't be too careful with these things.
The mulch came next. We had to try several until we found one that both covered the holes, yet was still loose enough to allow air in. I had cut a hole in a plastic basin which she put over her head. I taped it in place and she held it as I fitted the bubble, then filled the basin with mulch. they say the third time is charm, but it took five tries until we found one that she could leave in place for several minutes. It was a cedar mulch and she said she liked the smell, so there's that, I guess.
When I finished raking the mulch I packed up the camera gear, took a couple of slow laps around the bubbles, squatted down and waved at her, climbed in the truck, and drove away.
As I drove I had an idea. I wondered if the dean would give me permission to make it a permanent display? Kidding! Just kidding ... sort of.