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Performance Art

(M/F/alien, exhibitionism, preg, mpreg)

by Dragonfly - © 2008

"Thank you for coming, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the exhibit."

Gustov Klaus smiled graciously, glancing at the growing stack of waiver forms at the entrance. Some of the guests looked at him curiously but signed anyway – Marta made sure of that. Nobody got in without signing the waiver.

Once inside, they were allowed to pass through the heavy black velvet curtain and behold his exhibit. Patrons gasped at the strange shapes in the dimly-lit gallery, the walls painted black to show off their metallic, glowing forms best, only a single spotlight in the ceiling illuminating each one.

Signs saying "Please Touch" encouraged them to examine the sculptures fully, from every angle.

"They’re so unusual!"

"How much? I simply must have this red and gold one!"

"Look at the colors... they’re iridescent... how lovely."

"Quite a statement about color and form. And the lighting accentuates that."

"Is fragrance part of the exhibit? Or is that someone’s perfume...?"

He smiled broadly, closing the large metal and glass doors of the gallery and quietly locking them. "Yes, fragrance IS part of the exhibit. Very perceptive. In fact, this is performance art, and you’re all part of the performance!" The small crowd applauded and smiled, delighted by the surprise.

The fragrance, sweet and musky, became slightly more heavy in the room as the guests examined and touched the sculptures. Gustov watched patiently, rocking on the heels and balls of his feet alternately.

One young woman with a tumble of auburn hair had her hand on part of one sculpture and was staring at it, stroking the shape back and forth, over and over, looking somewhat mesmerized. The one she was touching was a soft metallic blue in color, and covered with bulbous protrusions several inches long.

She licked her lips and just kept stroking one of them, looking around with heavily-lidded eyes. She jumped and quickly took her hand off the sculpture when Gustov strode up to her.

"No, no... it’s all right," he said to her soothingly. If one started, the rest would follow, he knew. "My dear... that’s part of the performance, don’t you see?" He gently placed her hand onto the shape she’d been stroking and smiled. "You feel it don’t you," he murmured into her ear as he caressed her shoulders and neck. "You see? It’s just the right height for you. Almost as if it was made for you. This is the performance art. How the people interact with them."

With glazed, hungry eyes she nodded slowly, shivering as he lifted up her short skirt. She did not resist as he slowly guided her toward the unmoving metallic blue shape she’d been stroking. Others watched, and the room fell dead silent as they all watched. He turned her around so that her backside was facing the sculpture.

"Bend over," he whispered into her hair, and she moaned softly. He gently pulled her back, sliding her thong panties to the side, the tip of the knobbed shape pushing against her soft, red labia.

Several in the room gasped as it penetrated, the young woman groaning with pleasure, pushing back on her own now, drunk from lust and the strange fragrance in the room. She slid back on it as far as she could, then began pumping it... slowly at first, then with more passion.

Across the room another, older woman gasped as she too allowed herself to experience fully the exhibit, lowering herself onto a surprisingly large upward-facing phallic shape, her longer skirt covering up their union as she slowly twisted and pumped. Her eyes were closed in ecstasy as she groaned loudly.

"Yes... and so the performance begins at last!" said Gustov gleefully, arms raised like the showman he truly was. The crowd stared at the two women, more people stroking the strange sculptures with glazed eyes. A man moaned as he slid backwards onto one of the protrusions, his pants and boxers down around his ankles. Guests watched as his anus pushed in and pulled out around the shape as he worked it, a shiny liquid making the sculpture glisten where he was.

More and more patrons were joining in, several at a time on every huge alien shape as the light shone down on them all. Gustov knew what was about to happen, and his own member stood at attention as he waited, an odd tingling sensation in his belly. Marta came to watch with him then, holding his hand and breathing deeply, red lips parted gently to expose pearly white teeth.

A very faint, low, throbbing sound made itself known in the room, previously unnoticed, almost lost under the noises of the crowd as they pleasured themselves on the statues. It was almost lower than human hearing, but not quite, and caused the shapes to vibrate slightly.

The very first young lady began to climax then, crying out as she reached back to touch the body of her lover, the unyielding form seeming to throb back in harmony. Gustav watched closely as she shook, the little gasp of surprise and excitement and confusion coming from her making his own engorged organ weep with joy. Then he turned his attention to the first man who had taken a sculpture as his lover, watching.

He knew what the man would feel. The pressure that started as deep in the colon as he could push himself onto the shape. It increased, becoming almost too intense and then... rapture. A release and a flowering outward, indescribable, something new forming inside his body. There! The man’s eyes flew open and he came, a perfect white arc of his release fountaining in pulses onto the floor as the shape penetrating him made a space for itself within.

One after another the releases came, and he knew what each of them felt, the shapes they had willingly impaled themselves on growing larger now, their bulbous ends swelling to trap each vagina and each colon in turn. A few of the patrons shot Gustov worried looks, but he mildly nodded and waved them off, helping them to relax and enjoy what was about to happen.

He killed the lights, the sculptures revealed now to have the inner glow of a living thing, illuminating the room with soft lights of blue and purple and pink and a dozen other colors without names as the human beings moaned and gasped. They grew brighter and he knew it was time.

With a gently pulsating light the shapes began filling their wombs. The men, too, had been gifted with these new organs, accessible from the only opening they had offered to the sculptures, blossoming out into their abdomens like the women. Minutes passed, and the slow filling began to make soft bulges on bellies, the room filled with panting, groaning, and the sound of skin being rubbed with hands.

Soon, too soon for some, they were released, the guests sliding off their lovers, all of them now holding within their bodies the next generation of creatures. Liquid now, trapped inside warm, dark wombs, they would coalesce like tiny galaxies and be birthed, reduced in size and density to fist-sized lumps of rainbow hues. Once born they would grow slowly, over a year or so, into the adult sculptures like those in the gallery.

"Thank you all, for attending," the showman announced quietly at the stunned, satisfied crowd. "And I’m sure you’ll all be back in five months for the next installment of my performance art. This one will be called ‘The Birthing.’ You will know when to come back."

Softly pregnant, dresses and trousers straining against their owners’ new shapes, every guest pledged that they would, in fact, be back. For who else but Gustov knew how that would proceed? How to keep them safe? With a devious wink he unlocked the doors, every face that passed by him now curled softly with a secret smile, hands on slightly protruding bellies, steps unsteady, bodies satisfied beyond measure.

He looked at the receipts and nodded, the admission fees added to the several sales they’d made that night — a year’s salary made again. Locking the doors behind them, husband and wife embraced, finding two creatures near each other, and kissed deeply as they slowly impaled themselves, opening themselves for implantation. Clearly, more sculptures were needed.