Dylan smirked to themself under their mask as they jimmied open the window of the Mornington Private Gallery and slipped inside. The apparent lack of security in this place was almost pitiful: no alarms on any of the entrances, very few cameras, and not even any night guards. If they didn’t know better, they’d swear that Ms. Mornington was trying to get herself robbed blind! And yet every attempt to steal from the gallery had ended, not with a chase and a frantic rich woman on TV trying to explain how it could have happened, but rather with the intruders quietly handing themselves over to the police and confessing everything. When asked why they chose to give themselves up, all any of the thieves would say was that Ms. Mornington had been very convincing. It boggled the mind, how consistent this pattern was… or, rather, it would boggle the mind, if you weren’t highly up-to-date on your cutting-edge security technology. Dylan had a hunch about how exactly Ms. Mornington kept her gallery safe, and tonight, they were here, among other things, to find out if that hunch was right. What they would do with that information… well, that depended on how their robbery went.

Making their way through the various rooms, Dylan eventually set eyes on their target. Given pride of place on one wall, directly opposite the door to its gallery, was a large abstract piece, all colourful shapes and lines with no discernable structure to them. They’d never understood this sort of art, but hey, it sold well, and that was all that mattered. It was surrounded by various similarly abstract pieces: a canvas with paint spattered haphazardly across it; a display of colourful lights projected onto the wall, moving at random despite the power otherwise being off and no guests being received; and a wooden sculpture, carved with geometric patterns in some places, but mostly just allowing the natural structure of the branch it once was to show through.

Approaching the painting, Dylan began to study its mountings, trying to work out how best to take it with them. There didn’t seem to be any alarms on it, so that was one less problem to take care of, and- the light display momentarily sped up, throwing off their train of thought. Sparing it a brief glance, Dylan shook their head and tried to regain their focus. The painting was framed; how challenging would it be to get the canvas out of said frame and roll- the lights all changed colour now, going from pale to highly saturated, and the thief lost focus again. They pulled themself back. If they wanted to cut the painting out of its frame, they’d need to take it down first. Moving around to the side to examine how it was hung, the light display was now directly in their line of sight. The pattern to it seemed more noticeable now: all the lights were rippling gently from side to side, forming a shimmering effect. But then it broke up again, returning to chaos. How was it being controlled- no, Dylan had to get the painting down from the wall. They went to lift it, but as they did, the pattern re-emerged, all the lights now forming a spiral. They could hear a quiet droning noise coming from somewhere as well, which began to pulse in volume, in time with the lights changing in brightness as they spiraled and swirled, flickering through colours and patterns, going from order to chaos and back to another type of order. Dylan’s arms dropped to their sides, leaving the painting forgotten as they stepped towards the light display, feet feeling heavy and clomping despite their soft shoes. The lights were so fascinating, so beautiful, even as the flickering and pulsing and the thud of the audio made their head feel fuzzy and their vision blur. They needed to get closer, to figure out what was happening, see if maybe this would sell for more. It was several seconds before they registered that there was now a voice mixed into the audio - a low-pitched, feminine one, murmuring something in a comforting tone. Dylan moved closer still to the lights, straining their ears, which they were now disappointed were covered by their mask, to pick out the words.

“There we are, just look at the pretty lights. No thoughts… no worries… just look at the beautiful lights. There’s a good girl.”

Briefly, they regained some of their faculties. Good girl? No, they’d had enough of being mistaken for a girl, thank you very much. Why were they even wasting their time with this stupid piece that nobody had shut dow-

“Hey, hey, no need to worry. Just be a good boy and look at the lights.”

Well, that was an improvement, at least, and Dylan, despite themself, complied. The lights were moving in overlapping patterns now, ripples of colour and darkness and shapes all interacting and interfering; the drone was fading in and out unpredictably, and Dylan lost their focus again long enough for the voice to pick up once more.

“There we are. Just relax… no thoughts… look at the lights… relax your body… no worries… listen to the sound… relax your mind… listen to my voice… good enby.”
Dylan went weak at the knees as the lights reached the peak of their performance, swirling and dazzling and dazing and beautiful and incomprehensible. They couldn’t help but stand and stare, falling deeper and deeper into the pretty lights as their eyes widened and their mind faded far, far away.

***

“INTRUDER SUBDUED AND AWAITING ORDERS.”

Vanessa Mornington smiled to herself as the alert came through to her phone. She had been going through her nightly routine and was just about to head off to a shower when the first notification came through from the Mesmeros Security system, telling her that it had detected an intruder and powered up, and so she had instead waited with her phone, ready to call in human security if things went south. But that had, once again, been unnecessary, the Mesmeros system having been effective in capturing this latest would-be thief.

Pulling up the app, Vanessa scanned through the statistics. Nothing particularly out of the ordinary: the intruder had responded well to non-binary-coded language and wording centred on mindlessness and relaxation, had taken around the average amount of time to hypnotise, and had done no damage before being caught. They had made their way directly to the main Mesmeros unit, installed in the abstract gallery, which made things more efficient - otherwise, the system would have had to rely entirely on audio cues until it had lured them in there - but there wasn’t anything to suggest that this was any more than fortuitous coincidence, until she swiped over to the camera feed. Looking at the footage, Vanessa had to suppress a laugh. The intruder was quite a short figure with, as far as she could tell, a generously-portioned chest and posterior. From what she could make out, they seemed quite young. However, what really drew her attention was their outfit. They were clad head-to-toe in black, complete with a ski mask that obscured all but their eyes, and carried a very obvious bag with them, which had been dropped by their side as the trance overtook them. They couldn’t have looked more like a stereotypical thief unless they donned a domino mask and wrote “SWAG” on that bag - maybe they had; the resolution wasn’t quite good enough to make it out. Frowning to herself, a thought came to Vanessa. Was it possible that the intruder had intended to get caught by the Mesmeros system? It wasn’t something she had publicised, but if you were paying attention to previous burglary attempts, there was a clear pattern to how they were foiled. Now their beeline to the abstract art room seemed to be more deliberate…

Well, she’d soon get answers. Pulling on her jacket, she left her house and walked the short distance to the museum, which was located on the same property. Hopefully, she would get to have some fun with this would-be thief.

***

Dylan’s pleasant daze was ever-so-slightly interrupted by footsteps coming from behind them, followed by a gentle hand being placed on their shoulder. Before they could do more than flinch, however, the person behind them started to speak, in that same, soothing voice that had mesmerised them in the first place. Had they had much of a mind left, they would have noticed the differences and realised that the system’s voice was merely modeled on this one, but stunned as they were, this fine point eluded them, and they found themself latching onto this speaker’s words, ready to do whatever she would ask of them.

“My, my, my, what have we got here, then? A sneaky little thief who thought they could get away with stealing from me? That’s very naughty of you, isn’t it?” As this person spoke, the hand on Dylan’s shoulder pushed them lightly, making them sway back and forth, robbing them of the initiative to turn and look at the person who, they finally realised, must be Ms. Mornington herself. They found an answer bubbling up to their lips, unbidden and at the same time exactly what they meant to say.

“Mmyes, Ms. Mornington. ‘M sorry for being bad…”

“Look at you, apologising already. That’s more like it. And you were so good for my security system, weren’t you? So what would compel such a good person like you to do such a naughty thing? The money? The thrill? Or…” and here her voice dropped lower, taking on a more seductive tone, “did you want this? Want to be caught, and mesmerised, and made into my good little plaything?”

“Yeaaaah… ‘M sorry… it sounded hot, an’ I wanted it…” Again, the words came to their lips unbidden, latching onto the idea that Ms. Mornington wanted to be true.

“Well, that’s still very bad of you, isn’t it? I think you still need punishment… but why don’t I give you a choice? Either you turn yourself in to the police and confess, like all the people I’m sure you’ve heard about who’ve tried to steal from me… or, you serve me for tonight, and tomorrow serve as an example of why people shouldn’t be naughty like you, and I keep this a little secret from the police. What would you like?”

“You… wanna serve you…”

“Oh, very good! In that case, I think I should get to know you better. Let’s start by getting that mask off, shall we?”

Ms. Mornington grabbed Dylan’s ski mask and gently pulled it off, letting their short black hair mess spike up and naturally drawing their head back to rest on her shoulder. Her other hand, which had still been swaying them back and forth, now snaked down to get a feel of one of their breasts, stroking and lightly squeezing it as a dopey grin spread across their face, their eyes drifting up to meet hers. Ms. Mornington was somewhere in her 30s, giving her at least 10 years on Dylan, with light brown skin and dark brown hair tumbling loose behind her shoulders. She returned their grin, dropping their mask and moving her now free hand to gently caress their lips and squeeze their cheeks.

“We’ve got a cute one here, haven’t we? What’s your name, cutie?”

“Duh- Dylan.”

“Well, then, Dylan, we should get you somewhere more private, shouldn’t we? How about you pick up your stuff and follow me?”

Dylan bent over to pick up their mask and bag, earning a quick pat on their butt, before trotting vaguely behind Ms. Mornington, out of the gallery, up the road, and into her house.

***

Pulling Dylan into her well-appointed bedroom, Vanessa took a minute to consider what she wanted to do with her prize. The trance they’d been put in should last 24 hours from their last exposure to the Mesmeros system, so there was no need for her to rush. Unashamedly letting her gaze linger on the thief’s body, she decided to get a better look at their figure. “Strip for me,” she commanded. Staring dumbly forward, Dylan slowly pulled up their shirt, letting their large breasts drop free as it went over their head, revealing to Vanessa’s pleasant surprise that they hadn’t been wearing a bra. As they bent to pull down their pants, she also realised properly that they hadn’t been wearing shoes, either; just socks. Her first look at their bare butt revealed they also hadn’t been wearing panties. “You naughty thing,” Vanessa commented as Dylan peeled off their socks, returning to stand ramrod straight, gazing open-mouthed into the distance again. “You definitely got caught on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Yuh- yeah,” the thief mumbled. Vanessa still wasn’t entirely sure - the trance would likely have made them suggestible enough that they’d just accept any notion she brought up - but it was much hotter to think of this cutie as having been so eager to put on a show for her that they didn’t wear anything but the essentials.

Vanessa took Dylan by the shoulders and turned them around to face the mirror. Divesting herself of her shoes and jacket, leaving just her blouse and slacks, she took her time to examine every inch of her unreactive captive’s body. Dylan was delightfully soft and - perhaps “squishy” might come across as mildly pejorative, but it was the only word that sprang to Vanessa’s mind as she toyed with their breasts and butt, gliding her hands across their stomach and thighs, brushing across their happy trail and the cute faint patches of hair under their arms and between their legs. A glance in the mirror showed Dylan’s jaw hanging slack, a trickle of drool emerging from their parted lips, mirroring the wetness that was starting to emerge from their glistening cunt. Their eyes were starting to glaze over as they stared dumbly into the mirror, blinking only very occasionally as they let their Mistress toy with their body. Vanessa pressed a kiss to their neck for the first time, pulling them closer and smiling as the thief’s body crumpled towards her - still holding themself up, but unable to do more than that. Placing a hand directly between their legs for the first time, Vanessa dragged her fingers through their slickened folds, creating a line between their bodies as she brought the hand to her mouth and delicately licked the liquid off her skin. “You taste as delicious as you look,” she purred into their ear, smiling again at the faint moan that elicited.

Vanessa half-led, half-carried the weak-limbed thief to her bed and gently laid them down on their back, bending and spreading their legs. “Look at me,” she ordered, and Dylan’s head immediately snapped up to track her movements as she stripped off, moving to her bedside table and producing a harness, a strap, and some lube. “Don’t worry, cutie, it’s been sanitised,” she added as she slipped the harness on and affixed the toy - one that was large enough to perhaps be mildly concerning, but not too much so. Positioning herself between Dylan’s legs, she properly placed her fingers against their now soaked entrance. “I’m not sure I’ll even need this, you eager little thing,” she added, gesturing to the lube. “Will I?” Dylan shook their head, and she fixed them with a cautionary look. “If you’re certain,” she warned, and began to line the toy up. “Tell me if you fucked up, okay?” She cautiously began to slip the strap into them, finding that the thief had been correct as she pushed in freely. Dylan whimpered with pleasure as Vanessa found herself almost buried up to the hilt of the toy already, eyes still locked to hers. “There we go, you’re taking my cock so well. And when you’re ready for me to start moving, that head will just drop back down as you become the perfect fucktoy for me.”

It only took a few moments for Dylan to relax, cuing Vanessa to start thrusting the toy within them. She quickly built up to a brutal pace, groping and mouthing at the thief’s generous chest and adorably blanked out face, wringing whimpers and moans and gasps out of her new toy as they lay limp beneath her. As Dylan’s breathing became shallower, Vanessa judged her moment and moved a hand down to their clit, smiling victoriously as the thief’s eyes rolled back in their head and they clenched around the strap, gasping as they climaxed. The heiress felt a buzz of pleasure herself, the combination of the thrill of dominance and the stimulation from the toy pressed up near her own sensitive areas, but she wasn’t anywhere near done with pleasuring her toy yet. If they’d come here to be caught and dominated, she’d give them a night to remember. As Dylan regained their bearings, face returning to its current neutral of zoned-out submission, Vanessa laid herself down on them and, with some subconscious cooperation from her toy, rolled the pair of them over, sitting up so that the thief was now in her lap as she looked into the mirror. “I believe you know what to do,” she prompted, and indeed Dylan began to fuck themself on the strap, head lolling as they bounced up and down on the silicone. Vanessa had already started to mark them, but now with Dylan being the one to do most of the work she could properly concentrate on this task, nipping and biting at their neck and collarbone, hands gripping their tits and then their butt, letting them fuck themself harder and harder until she drove them to a second orgasm, fluid now dripping down her fake cock as they slumped bonelessly against her. “We’re not done yet,” she whispered. “Can you do one more for me?”

It took a good few seconds for them to respond, to the point that Vanessa wondered if they’d actually fallen asleep on her. Then, their lips parted, drool leaking onto Vanessa’s torso. “Mmyesss, Ms Mrnngtn…”

“Very good, you’re such a well-behaved toy.” That got a slight clench around her actual toy as she attempted to turn the thief around once more, eventually getting them so they were on all fours, facing the mirror as Vanessa buried her cock in them from behind. Gripping their jaw lightly with one hand as she began to thrust, she forced their head up to meet their reflection’s glazed eyes, slipping her thumb into their mouth as she did so. “Take a good look there, dear… see how cute you look on display like this… and get used to that feeling of being seen, because you’ll experience it a lot more tomorrow.” Vanessa’s own gaze was drawn downward, seeing in the mirror how the thief’s tits jiggled with each thrust she made, and then to where their bodies met, her hips slamming into their butt with each thrust. Dylan’s climax came even quicker than before, whimpering and shaking with the strain of holding themself up before they slumped over, falling partway off the glistening toy, which Vanessa began to slowly remove from them.

Vanessa was nearing the limits of her own endurance, but had managed to stave off her own climax, needing more direct stimulation for that. Grabbing Dylan’s limp, sleepy form under the arms, she dragged them off the bed to kneel on the floor, from where they blearily looked up at her. Sitting on the bed and positioning the toy at their slack lips, she uttered a single word: “Clean.” Dylan obediently began to lick their cum off the toy, eyes fluttering as they did so. Once they’d completed the task to Vanessa’s satisfaction, she drew them off it by their hair, divesting herself of the harness before replacing the toy with her own shaven, aching slit. Dylan dove in eagerly, even as she pushed them right up against her, depriving them of breath until she came, her vision whiting out as she coated the thief’s face in her slick.

Pushing Dylan away, she let them fall limp to the floor, almost indistinguishable from the toy she’d claimed them to be. Tossing her clothes into the laundry basket, Vanessa drew herself a bath, but decided against inviting the thief, instead just grabbing a cloth to wipe down their face and thighs. Their eyes had closed by the time she was done and the bath was ready, and she decided the night was warm enough to leave them on the floor - no matter how good of a fuck they were, they’d still broken into her gallery. And besides, they were such a pretty sight laid out like this on the floor, naked body in full view for the night. Slipping a pillow under their head, Vanessa began to take care of her nightly routine. She didn’t need to worry about leaving them asleep without orders - the Mesmeros trance would last the full duration no matter what, unless she specifically awoke them earlier.

***

Vanessa was awoken bright and early the next morning by her alarm. Turning to look at the floor, she found Dylan was also up, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. She licked her lips in anticipation. Her plans for them today weren’t quite as strenuous as last night, but were arguably hotter…

Ordering them into the dining room still naked, Vanessa prepared breakfast for the two of them. Dylan obediently ate what was placed before them, Vanessa having to resist the temptation to order them to spill their drink over their chest. It would look hot, sure, but it would also mess with what she was going to do next.

Once they had both eaten their fill, Vanessa placed a pill in front of Dylan. “Now, dear, what I want you to do for me today will require you to stay very still. So this is a pill designed for me by the good folks at Mesmeros which should prevent any major cramps for you. Drink up!” Dylan obediently swallowed the pill and the rest of their drink. Vanessa continued. “Excellent. Now, we need to get you ready. Follow me.”

Leading Dylan back to the gallery, Vanessa brought them to the adult-only room, reserved for her spicier pieces - still artistic, but not for sensitive eyes. Photography was banned in this room as a rule, which meant that her promise of secrecy would be kept, and no images of Dylan could get out. Entering a staff room, she pulled out several supplies, chief among them a human-sized turntable, which she positioned in a corner of the room reserved for such occasions: this was not the first time she’d offered someone this kind of deal. Before she installed this temporary exhibit, however, she had to at least somewhat protect the thief’s modesty. From her pile of supplies, she produced a roll of bright orange nipple tape, sticking it onto their chest to create large Xs over each breast. She also grabbed out a pair of mostly sheer panties with an orange stripe along the crotch, designed to give the illusion of the same tape being placed over their slit, and handed them over to Dylan, who obediently slipped them on. She stepped back to give them a quick once-over, and nodded in satisfaction. “Stand up there,” she ordered, gesturing to the turntable; “and hold this.” “This” was a large sign, on which was written the words, “I TRIED TO STEAL FROM THE GALLERY AND ALL I GOT WAS TURNED INTO A DISPLAY.” Dylan complied, holding the sign out in front of them, over their midriff. “There we go; you’ve got the idea already,” Vanessa smiled. “But you could definitely look more… artistic.”

She spent the next few minutes adjusting Dylan’s body, posing it just so. She opened their jaw and widened their eyes, so that they appeared to have been caught by surprise and frozen in that moment. She moved their arms out slightly so that the sign was hovering away from their tummy, allowing visitors to get a glimpse of their navel. Finally, she spread out their legs and pushed their torso forward slightly, accentuating their tits and butt. Stepping back to admire her handiwork, Vanessa nodded in satisfaction, before grabbing the final supplies from her pile: a specially-made tin of body oil, and a brush. She then set about methodically painting Dylan’s body, so that every square centimetre of it glistened as though made of plastic, the panties turning sheerer to add to the illusion that they were entirely naked. If you didn’t suspect anything, you would mistake the thief for a specially-made sculpture, holding a joke sign to add to the piece. And if you did suspect something… well, this would grant you plausible deniability.

Returning to the staff room, Vanessa packed her supplies away, before fishing out the placards for this piece. As well as the standard No Touching signs, there was also the descriptor, which read:

Vanessa Mornington (b. 1979)

Exhibit A, 2025

Real human*, tape, panties, and ink on cardboard.

At the Mornington Gallery, we take break-ins very seriously. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun with any thieves we catch!

*Only joking… or are we?

After admiring the entire effect, Vanessa leaned into Dylan’s ear. “And now you’re just going to find your body frozen and fixed and locked and bound in place. Can’t move a muscle; can’t swallow until you have to; can’t blink unless you’re facing away from the visitors. Just a perfect little sculpture, serving as an example to all your thieving friends; you’ll just stay there, and look pretty, until we close. No thoughts in that pretty little head, except for how good it feels to be displayed to everyone here, to just be my pretty little sculpture, to have everyone admiring you. After all… that’s what you wanted, hm?” Ensuring the turntable was plugged in, ready to be turned on once the gallery came to life, Vanessa sashayed from the room, leaving the thief-sculpture in the dark, frozen, helpless, and, she was pretty sure, already very aroused.

***

The lights - dimmer in this room than the others - came on, and the turntable began rotating. Every so often, it sent a quick vibration through their body, adding to the pill’s effects, stimulating their muscles ever so slightly to stave off the cramps. Not that they consciously thought about that. Or anything, really, until people came in.

“Huh, I’d not seen that exhibit before.”

“Made by Ms. Mornington herself? Gosh, she’s talented.”

“Wow, it’s so hot!”

“You sure I can’t touch it? Just briefly?”

“Look at that ass jiggle! It’s so realistic!”

“Imagine if that was a real thief, though. I think break-ins might increase if it would get you this…”

The praise flowed through their head, keeping them in a happy daze, even as their body started to ache from holding the pose. Time flowed strangely, minutes feeling like hours and hours feeling like minutes at the same time. It was so arousing to be treated like an object - no, they were an object? - but they didn’t show any of it, didn’t even move a millimetre. And then, after an eternity and nowhere near enough time on display, the visitors left, the lights went out, the turntable stopped, and Ms. Mornington, clad in a protective jacket, was telling them to sleep.

***

Dylan woke up the next day in a hotel, with all of their muscles aching and their stomach growling. Standing up and making their way to the bathroom, where they found an actual bath, they struggled to remember what had happened over the last 24 hours. They’d broken in… found the Mesmeros system… and then?

Well, they didn’t seem to have been arrested, at least.

Waiting for the bath to fill, they checked out the other rooms in the suite. Their clothes and bag were in a small pile in their bedroom, but that didn't spark any memories. On the dining table, they spied a note, in unfamiliar handwriting. Picking it up, they felt a shiver go straight to their cunt as they started to read it.

My little thief,

As thanks for your hard work being on display yesterday, I have booked this suite for you for the night. Breakfast service is complementary, and you can check out as late as you need. It’s the least I can do after you’ve drummed up so much buzz for the gallery: adding to the rumours of a random erotic exhibit always does wonders for my business.

Having said that, I have given you orders to not repeat your stunt of two days ago. You’ll find them quite binding indeed. If you wish to be my plaything on a more permanent basis, without breaking any laws… well, you know how to contact the gallery. Include the word “violets” in the subject line, and it will go straight to me. Just bear in mind that you wouldn’t be the only former exhibit to come back for more.

Regards,

Vanessa Mornington.

P.S. Remember for me.

A quiet gasp was the only sound in the room as Dylan dropped the letter.