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Closing Shift

By Zatarra L. Vulpe

Jamie washed his hands again. He stood staring at the mirror and gave another little sigh. He shook them off and simply wiped them against his denims. When he left the restroom he strolled back to his post near the electronics and simply watched the people walk by.

"Jamie?"

He turned toward the unfamiliar voice. It was his manager. "Yes ma'am?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Watching the register, I'm supposed to be on register if the schedule is correct."

"So all the stock is in order?"

"It should be, I finished it an hour ago."

"So everything is just done then, huh?"

"Yes."

The manager gave a nod and walked off into the electronics aisles. She was probably going to check on his work again. She also used his first name, again. He hated that about managers, like they're supposed to know him or something. He realized his position, he would almost have rather been 'You' or 'Peon.'

"Well, looks like it all checks out, good work Jamie."

"Thank you ma'am."

"I guess your shift is about over right?"

"Yup."

"Well... Okay, keep it up then."

She walked away. Jamie was pretty sure he'd be 'let go' of soon. He still didn't know anyone else's name, and why bother? It didn't relate to his work. None of them would like him anyway. He glanced at the clock occasionally, waiting for the minutes to tick down. As soon as the clock hit he was out from behind the counter with his ID in hand. It was black outside, the street lights barely visible. He punched out and grabbed his jacket from the locker. His manager walked in behind him, he could tell from the heavy 'clack' of her heels.

"Heading home?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Great.. So... You like working here Jamie?"

"Yup, it's great."

"Oh good, good. So when's your next shift again?"

"Thursday, two to ten."

"Oh, so same time huh?"

"Yup."

"Well good, you've got consistency huh?"

"Yup, I like it."

"Well good... I'll see you then."

"See you then, ma'am."

She walked off. He decided to do the same. He left through the back, his old car sitting in the corner of the lot. The walk was in the dark, long and quiet. His hands were on his keys before he heard the heavy clack of her heels again. He unlocked the door, swung it open and had just managed to shift gears before she was rapping on his window. He drew down the window.

"Yes ma-"

There was a heavy, chemical scented cloth on his face. He tried to pull away but she only shoved it into his face. The darkness around him swam and in a few seconds he was out.

Jamie's eyes blinked open. The room was dark around him, a heavy light blocking out everything else. It was centered directly on him. He was lying in a bed. He tried to sit up, but his limbs were tied, feet up against the posts, arms tied gently, in leather cuffs. His body was completely bare.

"You're awake."

It was his manager's voice. Jamie looked up into the darkness.

"What the hell, did you fucking kidnap me?"

"Yes."

He glances around the room. He couldn't see anything, but the comforter he was on was silken, probably expensive, nothing from their store.

"Why? What could you possibly want? I live alone, no one's going to give a shit if I'm gone, all you get is a felony."

There was a long pause. "Jamie, what do you want in life?"

"What?"

"What do you want from your life?"

"What the fuck does that matter? I don't have time for your corporate manager head games, let me out of here."

"You can't answer, can you?"

He stopped. "What?"

"You don't know, do you?"

He blinked and thought about it. "What does it matter?"

"It's your life, Jamie, it's everything."

"Yeah whatever, just get me out of here or do whatever you're going to do 'cause no one's coming that isn't the cops."

"Really? And what do you think I'm going to do?"

"I dunno you fucking psycho, you tell me! I was minding my own business in your store until you came along, I have no fucking idea!"

"Jamie, I'm not going to hurt you."

"Great, then why do you have me tied down?"

"So you can't escape."

"Well no shit, escape from what?"

"Purpose."

"Purpose?"

She came closer, her form blurred and shadowy outside of the light, but her hand clasped his. Was she even wearing anything?

"Jamie, I know how you feel."

"Sure you do."

"I know what it's like to be drifting through life, I know what it's like to feel like you don't know anyone and that you can't talk to anyone. Jamie, I know what it's like to feel like you don't belong anywhere."

"Mrs. Manager? Bullshit."

"Lots of luck and some acquired communication skills, Jamie. It still doesn't come easy. I hate it, I hate every minute of it Jamie, I hate having to play head games with you and to have to act like I'm friends with everyone and telling them they just have to be let go. I hate it so much Jamie you have no idea."

"So you moonlight as a kidnapper, at least?"

"No, I find others like me Jamie."

"And do what?"

"I give them a way to belong."

"What?"

"It's better, it's so much better. Let me show you."

She drew away from him. She didn't have her heels on, in fact he wasn't sure that she was wearing anything. Jamie didn't really try to struggle against the bonds, that is until a head landed between his legs.

"Holy shit what the fuck!"

"Shhh, it's plastic, though it was very much part of a living person."

It was a fairly generic mannequin head. The face was ovular, white, smooth, a gentle suggestion of a nose and chin, it would be easy to see a face there. But it was hollow, nearly weightless, it couldn't have been a human being. It seemed small.

"His name was Marcus, the rest of him is waiting in a box downstairs."

"Really."

"I'm sure he would disagree on the past tense, but he can't really speak anymore, so we'll just say 'his' name is now number fifteen, as he'll be the fifteenth in the store, at least for the one he's going to."

"You actually believe that."

"I've seen how it happened, he enjoyed every minute of it, asked for it in fact."

"That's crazy, who would do that?"

"Someone seeking a purpose, something they can be proud of, a place where they can belong."

"But isn't he dead or something? I mean you can't tell me he's still alive."

"'Aware' is the term I use, and I'm fairly certain he loves all this attention, but alas, I shall have to put him away for now, don't want anything getting on him."

She reached between his legs and grabbed the head, pulling it away as she stalked back into the darkness. She wasn't wearing anything. Jamie was certain she was insane and nude.

"But I suppose seeing is believing, hold still, hmm?"

Jamie felt something soft on his toes. She was running a brush with something strange and white over his foot, from toes to heel, then circling around his ankle. He shifted a little, but it didn't seem to perturb her. When she finished, it was coated entirely, just the cuff spared from the brush.

"Uh, well, okay, but what is-"

"Watch it."

He felt something strange. He expected the stuff to cool rather rapidly, but it seemed to grow warmer, drawing heat off of his foot. He sighed. It actually felt very good, his toes squishing together tighter, his nerves feeling strange, tingling pleasurably. When he looked down again, they were slipping into a single mass. He couldn't separate them, and soon his skin warped around the formless nub where his toes used to be, as though the bones and muscles were caught inside of a sock made of skin. His heel grew rigid, his arch softened, the bones and muscles stopped as flesh hardened. Even the ankle was stuck, holding everything perfectly rigid at the end of his leg.

"Oh god, what is this?"

"Your new purpose. You'll be able to see, to feel, but you'll be immobile, on display."

She drew her finger along the rounded edge of his foot. She tapped it. He could feel her finger, the cool, hollow vibration of her nail along the smooth, slightly pitted 'skin' of his foot.

"This will last the night, maybe longer if I go further, but..."

She was drawing her fingers along his hardened 'foot,' the plastic unyielding, but it felt like the most intimate massage. He made a little involuntary sigh, his breath slowing, he didn't want to breathe, it put him into a hang time, extending the moment.

"If I coat you entirely, you harden, becoming a new object, with purpose, true purpose, intrinsic, unavoidable, ever in demand, all in blessed silence."

His mind was fogging over at her touch, it was getting hard to focus on anything, even just moving his leg gave him a sensual tingle from the sheets. She drew back into the darkness. He couldn't even hear her breathing, it was as though he was alone.

He stared down as his frozen ankle, the details effaced, his toes gone, he couldn't move anything about it, but the touch was so alive, he felt as if the air itself were caressing him. He could have sworn his foot was slightly smaller, he tried to adjust the view of it, but the restraints were too tight.

"Th-this is completely harmless right? If I want to as long as I'm not totally coated I can go back, right?"

"Yes."

He couldn't take his eyes off of his leg, it's flesh and blood counterpart just a few inches away. He bit his lower lip, his breathing barely under control. The room felt almost too hot, his cheeks bordering on deep red.

"Okay... Let's try a little more."

"Of course."

He was about to say where he wanted it, but she simply started from his ankle and coated him to the knee in one long strip, the stuff practically writhing as it converted his skin, as though it were hungry. She drew the brush along his calf, then slowly higher, to his thigh, over his knee, practically to his hip. He felt that warm, tingling sensation again, his leg twitching slightly before any definition of muscle faded into the 'skin.' His calf was so thin, tight, rigid, his thigh following suit. The leg was shapely and absolutely alive with blissful energies. He wanted to rub it against something, but it was totally immobile. He noticed a few deep lines forming along the knee and near his hip.

"Wh-what are th...those for?"

She reached down, grasping his foot lovingly, his head rolling back until he heard a gentle plastic 'pop.' He looked down in time to see his lower leg being held above him. He nearly moaned, but not in horror, he could still feel it. It burned with what he would have called sexual energy, but for some reason it never peaked, just kept building. He twitched and moaned even as she slipped it back into place with another jarring 'pop,' almost a total white out for him.

"O-oh shi-t..."

"Jamie? Are you-"

"More, please more."

She started on his other leg, drawing down from his hip. The skin twitched as it was covered, then hardened again into tangible, sensitive plastic. His ankle stirred and twitched until it was coated, just the barest suggestion of the bones there as it hollowed out. The flesh of his ankles and soles were filling in, totally plastic, the lines of his footprint vanishing into a single mass that might have held the latest fashionable footwear, women's size 8, of course. He groaned softly.

"Tell me when to stop."

"D-don't! Don't stop!"

Her brush drew gently between his legs. The effect was almost immediate, the plastic tightening to his core and sealing him, no trace of organs or flesh as it's strange, semi-pliability gave way to full plastic rigidity. It didn't end the pleasure, if anything it heightened it, the acute sensation of every smooth curve of plastic under her fingers was beyond anything he'd ever felt. He was beyond any notion of release, his other thoughts pushed aside by this ever growing need.

Her arm arched around over his thigh, tickling along his oblique to his center, his bare belly button vanishing in the elongated stroke. He just watched, panting softly as the plastic touched his lowest rib. His waist was thinner than his build had ever been, his hips rounding in an artificial smoothness. He sighed and touched the curve himself. He almost didn't question that he was untied. The manager's still dripping brush hung in the air, just to the right of his chest. Her left hand was between his legs, rubbing gently on the now empty spot.

"Now do you see? This is when I made my offer Marcus, and isn't it much better? Imagine what it will feel like, clothes slipping and rubbing onto you, soft fabrics changing, for all to see and touch and feel."

He looked up at her a moment longer, his eyes hazy with soft tears. "Yes."

She smiled, embracing his still fleshy upper half. "Oh I am so envious of you Jamie, but I'm so glad I can give you this gift."

He nodded as she continued, drawing her brush along the ridges his ribs formed in his flesh. His breathing became difficult, but really he realized he didn't need it soon enough. She'd covered his diaphragm, his ribs contracting further into his plasticizing form. His chest was growing even as it shrank, her strokes covering his nipples, erasing them even as he developed a decent bust, well-formed and hollow, almost androgynous. He breathlessly sighed, his arms hugging himself even as they were covered in residue, hardening his hands slightly.

He smiled quietly as she worked on those, deep lines running through his biceps and wrist, more sections to pose. One arm was completely still, hanging before him, gently cupping her own chin, rubbing a little paint there. She was just painting over the fingers of his left hand, he felt them draw together, small and delicate fingers frozen into a holding hand, one that would certainly be laden in accessories.

She started on his neck, coating the Adam's apple and smoothing it away, delicate strokes along his collarbone and a smaller, rigid shoulder. His head was a little too big for his body, but that was shortly changing, strokes effacing his hair and leaving him bald in white plastic. His ears went next, smoothed over, lumps of flesh shrinking away under pristine, white plastic. She started, just under his chin, coating his face, leaving the lips, nose, and eyes. She wet her brush, then gave a gentle stroke to his lips, then added her own. They held this kiss for as long as they could, their lips coated and losing mobility. When she drew away, her lips were gone, just pure white flesh over the space where her mouth used to be. He was left with hard plastic, her brush coating his nose until it became all one, smooth gradient.

The last were his eyes, they stared at her longingly, her own mirrored the expression. She leaned closer, her arms around his small, light, hollow body, her hands resting on either side of his head. She gave him one final look, her mouth-less face moving softly, then she took his head off with a gentle 'pop.' His eyes were all over, but she walked him slowly, to a small mirror on a table hidden in the darkness. She turned on the lights. He could see himself, his.. well, 'his' body on the bed, rigidly holding it's position, standing. His eyes fell to her, holding him in the open air. Her brush came down. The paint coating one eye, the mass of it seeming to deflate. He could see as usual, but watching his flesh disappear was beautiful, he was so close, his body so alive. He gave her one final look before she gave the last stroke, his face forever solidifying into ambiguous plastic.

She sighed through her nose, tempted to take the plunge herself, but instead set her brush aside. As it was she'd have to pull some interesting justification for 'downtime' without a mouth. But she was sure it would be gone by morning, as much as she hated the fact. She took Jamie's head with her to bed, attaching it back into place softly. She then lifted him out of the bed and stood him alongside it. She gently slipped a pair of her own underwear up along his legs, nestling softly along his hips. She was slow with a pair of long socks with bright pink hearts on black, then gently clasping one of her own strapless bras around his chest. He would feel what was to come, his life ever on display for others, ever changing even as he remained the same. She looked to where his eyes would be, managing to 'smile', then gave a little stretch. She left the lights on, the hum of florescent bulbs lighting the room like a warehouse floor.

She watched him, as she was sure he was watching her, before she drifted off to sleep.