"Please have a seat," the receptionist said, giving a surfer hang-loose, wagging gesture with her gothic bejeweled thumb and pinkie. "We're running a bit behind."

Gina touched her fingertips to her lopsided wig, straightening it with a quick tug before giving a furtive glance around the crowded waiting room. There was a single empty chair in the corner.

She had to make a decision fast. Stay...and eat tomorrow, or leave, only to have her prestigious family finally discover the awful truth about her. She was a dismal failure.

She'd rather become a bag lady than go to her well-to-do family and tell them she was penniless. She'd been to enough cattle calls to ace this job. Right?

She pivoted on her crutches and headed for the chair before she lost her nerve. How bad could it be? She'd walked the runway for some of the most prestigious fashion houses in NYC. Back stage realities had long ago stripped away any modesty she'd once had. How hard would it be to lie on a table and spread her legs? Five-thousand dollars would come in handy. Three dollars would come in handy.

Gina had her subway card with six trips left on it. If she didn't get this job, she'd be walking. That would be the end of her last pair of Prada heels, the only pair of designer shoes she hadn't sold or hocked.

"That's some cast. Are you here for the consumer products job?" the young woman next to her asked once Gina sat down.

Gina glanced down to the monstrous cast running from her foot to mid-thigh and then thought about what the woman said. "Did you say consumer products?" Gina perked up. She'd been afraid the five or so women sitting in the small room were vying for the same job as she. The two men were a complete mystery. Gina didn't want to think about what they were doing there. One stared at her blatantly, while the other picked his teeth with a match book cover.

"You haven't tried a vibrator until you try the Ball-Peenis Hammer 2000," the woman said above the sound of head-banging, glam rock filtering from the sound system. "Now they're coming out with a new and improved model. I can't wait to give it a try."

Gina held her hand in front of her mouth in case anyone could read lips. "And you get paid for--um, using this vibrator? How much do they pay?"

"So you aren't here for the Ball-Peenis-Hammer 3000 trials? The 2000 is to die for. One can only imagine the new and improved model."

"I have an interview to model," Gina explained, trying to keep her voice low.

The curious woman stared pointedly at her cast again.

"Model body parts," Gina clarified and held her breath, waiting for questions she couldn't answer.

"How do you get a job like that? Haven't I seen you before?"

Not likely. Gina had worn an ugly blonde wig and dark glasses large enough to cover half her face. No way could anyone recognize her. "Have we met? I don't remember," Gina said.

Narrowing her expressive eyes, the woman leaned closer to examine Gina. "I don't think so, but something about you looks familiar. Are you famous?"

"Ms. Peterson?" The receptionist called twice before Gina recognized the fake name she'd used for the appointment.

Saved from further explanation, Gina pulled herself to her feet, hopping on one foot while she positioned the pesky crutches.

"Break a leg," the woman said and giggled.

"Thanks," Gina said and shuddered. Her broken leg had ruined her life! She went from making four-thousand a week to bubkes. Zero. Zilch. Nada. Nothing. Less than nothing. And since she spent three-thousand-nine-hundred and ninety-nine dollars a week, she had no savings, no insurance or any benefits to fall back on during the hard times.

"Right this way, Ms. Peterson," the receptionist said. "Mr. Thompson is waiting for you."

Gina had a hard time negotiating the narrow doorway of Mr. Thompson's office on crutches. Mr. Thompson's very distastefully decorated office. Somehow he'd managed to take faux-fur to a whole new level of disgusting.

He gave her a warm smile. "Virginia Newman, I'm glad you came. When the receptionist said the name Peterson, I wasn't sure it was you. You're more beautiful than I remembered. With that dark hair and pale skin, you are striking. I saw you once at a fashion show my ex dragged me to."

Please don't let him be hitting on me! Gina didn't know what to say, but this welcome from him answered a lot of her questions. Then again, who in New York City didn't know Virginia Newman? Until she'd broken her leg, she'd made the society pages on a weekly basis.

"I'm so glad you've come," he continued to gush. "You're our first choice for this job. You have the perfect tush."

"Tush?" Gina breathed a sigh of relief and wondered about sitting in the faux tiger-fur chair next to his desk. "You want to give me five grand for a replica of my tush?"

"Well, not exactly. We need your pussy and your tush. The whole enchilada. That's how it's done."

Gina decided against the chair and took a step back.

Mr. Thompson extended his hand toward her and stood. "Please, wait. We'll pay you five thousand for the mold, and another five when the product hits the shelves."

"Ten thousand?" If she was careful--and stayed out of the shoe stores--she could make the money last until her cast came off. Then there was the little matter of the physical therapist demanding cash up front. "What exactly do I have to do?"

"I won't lie to you. The actual process is a little longer when we need both. But it should take no more than one day of your time. And if we're lucky, we'll get it right the first time. You could be in and out of our factory in a couple of hours."

"Ten thousand for two hours?"

Gina double-checked the paper with the address before she entered the small warehouse on the lower west side of Manhattan. She didn't have time to think before she was approached by two beautiful women.

"Right on time. I'm Kerry and this is my best friend, Laren," a tall blonde said and smiled widely as she motioned to the shorter redhead. "Ray told us to hurry this along and make it a pleasant experience for you."

"This way," Laren said.

"Will it hurt?" Gina asked.

"We better not hurt you. Ray would fire us."

"You two will be the ones doing the impression?"

"These are the only two faces you'll see this afternoon. And we'll never speak of your involvement with another living soul," Laren said while crossing her heart.

Gina began to relax.

A half an hour later and on her third glass of champagne, Gina was naked under a plush robe while awaiting instructions in a private dressing room.

Even though she expected it, the light knock on the door produced a shudder. Gina raised the glass to her lips and emptied it. When she opened the door, she found both women dressed in matching chenille robes.

"We wanted to make you comfortable," Laren said, reaching to pat Gina's hand on her crutch. "Kerry and I thought if all three of us were naked, you wouldn't feel self-conscious.

Gina nodded, but she wasn't convinced of the logic. Still, she walked with them to a nearby room with what resembled an examining table in the center. Along one wall was a sink and counter with various boxes and bottles containing who knew what.

"Ready?" Kerry asked and shrugged out of her robe.

Gina couldn't help stare at the woman's beautiful breasts, and was glad she was naked from the waist down only.

"Augmentation," Kerry said, without a hint of embarrassment.

"Me, too," Laren chirped, dropping her robe from her shoulders to display her large and perky breasts. "Same doctor as Kerry. He's really good. Of course, being a fashion model I don't suppose you'd want enhancement."

"No, I've never felt the urge...until now. And now...I can't afford them."

"Give me your robes," Kerry said. Laren didn't hesitate. Gina had seen more naked female bodies than most would in a lifetime from the backstage dressing rooms in the fashion shows. She slipped out of her robe and handed it to Kerry.

"Hop up on the end of the table," Laren said, spreading a towel out. "We have another table to rest your broken leg on."

Gina sat on the towel, waiting for instructions, when the pop of a cork distracted her. She turned to see Kerry opening another bottle of champagne.

"Do you always drink expensive champagne at work?" she asked.

Kerry smiled. "Ray said to make sure you felt at home doing this job. We told him we needed at least three bottles of Dom."

"And we plan to drink every drop," Laren added.

"I'm already tipsy." Gina giggled. Still, she took the glass Kerry offered.

"Do you want me to wax or is it okay to shave you?" Laren asked.

"The whole area?" Gina worried. Her bi-weekly bikini waxes had been one of the first luxuries to go. "Just shave. I don't think I'd live through a wax that extensive."

She took a gulp of her bubbly before laying back and allowing Laren to guide Gina's one free foot to a stirrup and her cast up onto a small table with pillows. No problem. So far, so good.

"Ray is right. You have a beautiful pussy," Kerry said looking over Laren's shoulder. "Your skin is flawless."

"Thank you," Gina said, unsure of the proper etiquette under the circumstances.

Kerry passed another towel to Laren, and she folded it over the tops of Gina's legs. "The shave cream," Laren said.

Gina closed her eyes and experienced a lathering like she'd never had. This would teach her to go without sex for so long...all because Mr. Right had turned out to be Mr. Player.

It took everything she had to lie still.

"Did you warm the oil?" Laren asked.

"It's ready," Kerry announced, and opened the door of a small microwave. She tested it on her wrist before handing the bottle to Laren.

"I need to coat you with oil to keep the medium from sticking to parts that would hurt when we peel it off," Laren cautioned and began to pour the warm oil on Gina.

When Laren began using her fingers to distribute the oil, Gina sat up on one elbow and hurriedly finished her champagne.

"Too warm?" Laren asked.

"Just right," Gina said, hoping she didn't sound too breathless because it felt unbelievably good. When Laren traced the warmth over her clit, Gina moaned.

"I need to make sure it's sticking out like a good, little clit," Laren explained.

"Right." Gina puffed and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she was very near orgasm. Kerry stood next to Laren, touching her own nipple with one hand and Laren's with the other. The sight almost sent Gina over the edge.

"She's ready," Laren said to Kerry.

Kerry picked up a large, gourd-shaped receptacle filled with whitish goop, moved to stand between Gina's legs and began to push the contraptions against Gina's engorged pussy and exposed bottom.

"Lay perfectly still," Kerry cautioned and applied more pressure. "We want to get this right the first time."

Gina didn't know how she managed to be still when she wanted to come so badly. To make matters worse, the goop felt like it was seeping up inside her, penetrating her. Laren's eyes were glazed as she watched, touching her own clit almost absentmindedly.

"Not yet," Kerry said, turning to Laren. "We need it to set first. It won't take long," she said to Gina. "This sets up fast, like the stuff dentists use to make impressions of teeth."

"This is making me so horny," Laren complained and touched her fingers on her free hand to her breasts.

"This is making you horny?" Gina quipped. "Try this end." She didn't know how long she had the contraption between her legs, but it felt like an eternity, both bliss and torture in equal parts.

"Time to take it off. I'll lift from the rear and move it forward."

The cool air touching her sensitive skin as Kerry peeled the mold away took Gina's breath away.

"Does that hurt?" Kerry asked.

When Gina shook her head, Kerry pulled it off completely.

"Let me put some more oil on you, in case you're allergic to the compound," Laren offered.

Before Gina could answer, Laren began massaging oil onto Gina's clit. It only took about five seconds before Gina was coming so fast and hard she almost tumbled off the table.