There won't be a Flashback Friday this week because I am away on a trip and haven't had chance to write one, so I am going to give you something a little different. This is a Mannequeen caption I wrote back in 2016 and never posted for various reasons. Now that I have finished the current iteration of the Mannequeen story, I am happy to post it.
Fabio awoke face down on a piano, something akin to what his high school music teacher used to play, a million miles from the antique grand piano that stood in his ballroom. Pealing his face from the keys, he was surprised to find a weird smear left behind and alerted to the fact his face did feel a little strange, like his skin was coated in something thick and powdery, he sent his hands up to investigate. In was not what his hands found on his face that really scared him, though that was bad enough, but what his face found when his hands touched it. They were soft, small and slender and when he looked at them he saw that the nails had French tips. Things escalated quickly from there as he realised that these were the least of his problems, the greatest most likely being the pair of buxom bosoms that had conquered his chest. He checked between his legs. Scratch that…this was the greatest of his problems. In a state of panic he glanced around himself for any indication as to why he was now a woman but all he found in the otherwise bare room was the piano bench his new rounded ass was sat on and a metronome and small tape recorder lying on top of the piano. Seeing no other options, he pressed play…
‘Hello, Fabio. I want to play a game. I am the Mannequeen. I tell you this not because I am especially keen to get my identity out there but because recently my work has fell foul to that of a cheap imitation, a knock off, ‘the Cleaner’. I know you don’t understand why this angers me, after all you bear a far bigger resemblance to the maid, especially now you have tits. Like her, you build your reputation by defrauding others. For you it was a piano track that you stole from your brother and sold it as your own, making millions from its success. When he appealed to you, you used your new found wealth to appoint lawyers to squash his claim and then his reputation, leaving him nothing. Well, tonight we’re going to have a private little concert. You have been fitted with one of my cutting edge female bodysuits that unless unlocked with bond permanently to your skin in a little over twenty minutes. To unlock it all you have to do is play the piece of music you are famous for. It shouldn’t be too difficult for an expert musician like yourself. Oh, and for a little extra fun you might find your libido goes up somewhat every time you him a G. If you’re not sure, that’s the key next to the G#. You have twenty minutes.’
Fabio cursed his luck as he looked at the keys the way one might look at hieroglyphs and longed for the programmable piano that he used to perform live. He tried to hear the melody in his head. Surely, it couldn’t be that hard. He tried one on the black keys but it sounded nothing like he was expecting and in frustration he mashed the keys with both hands. There was a jolt between his legs and he found himself gasping for air. He looked where he’d smashed hands. Which one had been the G? Not that it mattered, he realised as his defeat seeped in. He was going to have a lifetime of looking for the G. His own…
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