“My uncle!” she told him with a grin. “Uncle Colin. He’s just qualified as a doctor!”

“Oh very nice!” Craig nodded approvingly. “I hear that can be a pretty stressful job! He’s lucky he’ll have you to help him unwind of an evening!” Before either of them could say more, the taxidermist came back into the room with his wife.

“Oh my!” she chuckled, looking at the crucified young man without expanding on what had elicited this exclamation, although Penelope was fairly sure she knew and couldn’t help giggling. Together, showing more strength that she would have expected for their age, the couple lifted the cross upright so it stood like a conventional crucifix.

“It has to be done like this,” the taxidermist explained, “so the muscle tensions would be right. If we set him laying down, it wouldn’t look right hung on the wall. Not many people would be able to say what was wrong with it but they’d know if was off somehow.” This made sense to Penelope and she was sure that Craig every bit as much as those who had commissioned the new piece would want it to look as close to perfect as possible. The taxidermist brought over a tall metal piece of some kind which looked a bit like a trolley but without wheels. The bottom was a long, flat sheet about five millimetres thick, a foot wide and two feet long, and to the back of this was welded a tall bar with two smaller bars sticking out from it.

“This is the key to the whole thing!” the older man explained proudly. “When they asked me to do it, I wasn’t sure how I was going to get a metal body on a wooden cross, not in any way that would look natural anyway. I thought I was going to have to insist the whole thing be Polkanised but then it hit me!” Craig looked around curiously as the man worked although his movements were limited by his position. Penelope had seen enough people crucified before to know that breathing would be a struggle for him in that position and, while the Passion Play performers had managed to deliver lines while in the same position, they had not had to contend with the compound bonded to their skin slowly hardening, making every movement that bit more challenging, not to mention the light-headedness and lethargy the chemicals within it caused as they soaked into the bloodstream so she was not surprised that he was quiet.

She watched with interest as the taxidermist took a bronze tube and inserted it through the hole in the top hole in the cross so that it emerged between Craigs shoulders. Wearing gloves to protect himself, he took some of the same thicker version of the compound that he had used to “glue” Emily’s foot to the base and smeared it around the end of the pole where it pressed into Craig’s skin. He then did the same with the lower hole, Sticking the end of the second tube to the small of the young man’s back. Next, he and his wife carefully manoeuvred the cross onto the base and pushed it back so that the bars which stuck out slid neatly into the tubes.

“The cross will burn away,” he explained, “but the figure will stay on the stand, then we’ll be able to use the poles to peg it onto the real display cross.” Hearing Craig described as “it” and “the figure”, already just an object when we was, for the moment at least, very much still alive gave Penelope a special thrill and she wondered if he felt the same.

“I must say, you do look the part!” the taxidermist’s wife told Craig kindly. “Oh wait!” Despite looking a little sleepy and as if he was only partly conscious of what was going on around him, the young man lifted his head and looked curiously at the woman. “You forgot something!” she scolded her husband, but in a playful tone.

“Of course!” the taxidermist slapped his forehead dramatically the went to one of his many, rather cluttered workstations returning moments later with a circlet of thorny branches already coated in the white powder. Carefully, wearing thick gloves to protect himself both from the thorns and from their toxic coating, he pushed the Crown of Thorns onto Craig’s head where it became tangled in the wig. “There we are!” he stood back proudly to observe his handiwork. “All ready for the kiln!”

As the taxidermist and his wife manoeuvred the cross and its supporting frame with the young man mounted on it towards the open door of the kiln, Penelope noticed that Craig was talking quietly as if to himself and realised that he was praying! Suddenly, it struck her that he was not just participating in creating a beautiful and lasting work of art but this probably an important act of devotion for him and she hoped that he had not been offended by her flippant comments earlier. He seemed to have taken it in the spirit it had been intended, she reassured herself, and after all, who was in a better position to forgive?

With the cross in place in the middle of the kiln, the couple exited and Craig looked up one last time, making eye-contact with Penelope and smiling at her as she smiled back sweetly, blew him a kiss then waved as the heavy metal door was closed and the taxidermist set the controls. Through the small viewing window in the door, Penelope watched the young man bow his head and assume the position in which he would be preserved forever.

“Right!” the taxidermist smiled, at the sweet, excited eleven year old. “Your turn! Why don’t you pop your dress off then I’ll introduce you to your insides!”

Giggling happily, Penelope kicked off her sandals and pulled her dress over her head, revealing her beautiful young naked body. Although nowhere near as dedicated to physical fitness as Emily had been, she never the less kept herself in good shape and was slim without being skinny with the merest hint of curves developing in all the right places.
For as long as she had known it was something to have an opinion on, she had been proud of her figure, especially her cute bubble-butt, and in recent months she had been very happy with the cute little pair of tits she had grown. In recent month she had noticed soft, downy hair beginning to grown above her plump vulva but, at her request, her mum had found her some cream to gently remove it without irritating her skin. She knew that it was a natural part of growing up but growing up was exactly what she was planning to stop with this procedure. Besides, she preferred it smooth like it had always been before and she was fairly confident that Uncle Colin would like it better that way too!

“I’ll take that!” the taxidermist’s wife smiled, reaching out as she saw Penelope looking around for where to put her dress. “I’ll see that your parents get it when they collect you.” Penelope handed it to her, smiling gratefully. The kindly older woman looked her up and down. “Such a pretty little thing from head to toe!” she observed and the young girl felt warm inside. She had been called pretty plenty of times before, of course, but this couple had dedicated their lives to preserving the beauty of young girls like her, as well as the occasional boy. Coming from her, the compliment felt as if it carried a lot more weight, backed as it was by professional discernment. Leaving her husband and the naked girl alone to get on with the business of the day, the women went back to mind the shop, reassuring them both that she would be around if and when she was needed.

“Come take a look!” the man beckoned her over to his work station with the same excited pride as an Airfix model or Lego enthusiast wanting to show off his latest build, not to brag or seek praise but to share something that made them happy. “I finished the trimming and sanding just before Craig arrived and the circulatory system works perfectly!” Penelope quickly joined him by his side and took her first proper look at the mechanical creation that would soon be wearing her skin.

It was more or less the same size and shape as her own body but with a slightly eerie thinness, especially in the limbs, fingers and toes which seemed unnaturally long. This, she realised, was because of the allowance that had been made in the modelling for the thickness of her skin, meaning that the finished doll would display perfectly natural proportions. The eerie quality was enhanced by the translucent colour, a pale aqua-blue, through which could be seen the red internal frame which mimicked the approximate shape of and served the function of a skeleton, allowing the Penelope doll to stand unassisted as well as being fully articulated. Riddled throughout the body were a series of darker blue tubes, all linked to a pump in the middle of the chest where the heart should be, either side of which were some kind of balloons or bladders whose purpose she was sure would become apparent.

Unable to resist her curiosity, Penelope took a look between the legs which were slightly parted and saw that the lips were slightly sunken, with no tube currently inside to support them, but laying next to the body was another of the pink silicone tubes like the ones she had seen in the shop along with a thinner one she supposed was for the rear entrance.

“Want to see it in action?” the taxidermist asked and Penelope nodded enthusiastically. Carefully, he manoeuvred the skinless doll into a sitting position and she saw for the first time the clips on the top of the neck and the metal pins where the electronic elements of the two halves would meet. “I charged it up with a spare charger,” he explained, gesturing to a wire on the desk with a plug at one end and something on the other which looked a little like a smooth-topped Lego brick, “but normally you’d charge it through the head.” Penelope nodded, remembering when she had been shown the discrete single-pin charging socket at the base of the skull on the display model.

“What’s that for?” she pointed to something that looked like a twist plug in the middle of the neck, reaching out to give it a little wiggle but finding it very tightly screwed in.

“That’s so the circulation fluid can be changed.” explained the taxidermist. “It has a shelf-life of ten to fifteen years but will need changing out eventually.”

“If he keeps me that long!” Penelope giggled.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be one of his most treasured possessions for life!” the sweet older man assured her. “And everyone will be clamouring over who gets to inherit you in his will!”

“You really think I’ll last that long?” Penelope asked dreamily, her eyes glazing over slightly and a contented smile on her pretty young face. “Toys do break eventually!”

“If you’re well cared for,” the taxidermist smiled, “which I’m sure you will be, there’s no reason you couldn’t last two hundred years or more!”

“Oh wow!” Penelope grinned again. “So it’s quite possible people might be enjoying me long after everyone’s forgotten who I actually was?”

“I guess so!” the man chuckled and, far from being saddened by the idea, Penelope found it rather exciting! Just like the girls whose meat was sold in anonymous cuts at the butcher’s shop or in supermarkets, she was leaving her personhood completely behind and becoming something else entirely! “Now, see here?” the man guided her hand to the back of the neck where she felt small buttons either side of the artificial spine. “These are the on and off buttons. They’ll be hidden under your skin of course but the user will be able to feel them. The one on the right, your left, is to switch it on. Give it a go!” Penelope pressed the small button and immediately the pump in the middle of the doll’s chest began to beat just like a real heart. Not only that but the bladders either side began to inflate and deflate, giving the impression of breathing. “Go ahead and hold her hand!” the taxidermist invited. Feeling strangely nervous, Penelope did so and found it comfortingly warm and, despite its strange texture, surprisingly lifelike.

“It simulates as close as possible the experience of being with a real girl.” the taxidermist explained proudly. “Pressing the button once turns it on for fifteen minutes, long enough for a bit of fun,” he winked at her, “but pressing it twice leaves it on until it’s switched off so he can cuddle you all night if he wants to!” Penelope found this image incredibly sweet.

“These came out nicely!” she observed, looking at the doll’s small breasts which looked as cute and perky as her own with little nubs on the end that would fit inside her pale pink nipples.

“Oh yes, and they’re touch-sensitive too!” the man grinned. “Just like the real thing!”

“What do you mean?” Penelope asked curiously, turning her body a little towards him.

“May I?” he reached towards her perky, budding little tits.

“Go ahead!” Penelope smiled, straightening up to face him properly and pushing her chest forward, eager to find out what he meant. The man carefully, respectfully fondled the firm little cones for a few moment then rubbed his thumbs over her nipples. It felt so nice that Penelope could not help giving out a soft moan, but it was certainly true that her nipples did get harder and grow a little in response to his gentle touch. She remembered that they had done the same when Uncle Colin had sucked on them before and found herself wishing just for a moment that she could feel that sensation again once last time! Of course she had always known that it felt nice to rub them and when she was cold or excited they had got a whole lot perkier, so much so that her mum sometimes teased her about having someone’s eye out if she wasn’t careful, but she had not immediately understood what the taxidermist had meant when he described the breasts of the doll as being touch-sensitive!

It was testament, she realised, to how relaxed she felt around this man, even being stark naked, and how relaxed she felt about the life-concluding procedure she was about to undergo that they had not already been in their more aroused state. Feeling that he had demonstrated his point and that to continue would be improper, the taxidermist put his hands down and look at the happy girl who smiled back up at him.

“Oh wow!” she grinned. “Can I try it?”

“Please!” the man gestured towards the sitting, headless doll still breathing regularly with a somewhat uncanny simulation of life. “Be my guest!” Penelope reached out and began to gently fondle the translucent blue breasts. They were warm like the hand had been with thin tubes circulating the darker liquid around them. Only up close did she notice the tiny sensors in the nipples which she gently pinched and stroked, feeling them extend and harden.

“Wow! Uncle Colin’s going to love this!” she grinned. “How long do they stay like that?”

“About two minutes if they’re not touched again.” the taxidermist explained. “But they’ll stay like that for as long as the power is on and he keeps playing with them!” Having satisfied her curiosity, Penelope stepped back and the taxidermist pressed the “Off” button on the doll’s neck, causing the pump to fall still, the breathing to cease and the nipples to relax. Carefully, he laid the doll back down on the work bench. “Now!” he smiled, standing behind Penelope with his warm and surprisingly gently hands on her shoulders. “Are you ready to get down to business?”

“Oh yes!” Penelope enthused, “Only…” she hesitated for a moment, crossing her arm across her chest and putting her hand on top of his, looking up at him nervously.

“What is it, miss?” he asked. “Having second thoughts? We can always…”

“Oh no no!” she cut him off urgently. “Please don’t think that! Nothing of the sort! It’s just…” A thought that had popped into her head when thinking about future users of her doll long after Uncle Colin no longer had the need of it was haunting her. The man looked down at her reassuringly and gave a gentle, encouraging nod, urging the sweet young girl to share what was on her mind. “Well it’s just…” she sighed. “I want to do this, it’s going to be awesome and I know I’m going to make a great doll for Uncle Colin but…” she hesitated again. “My meat won’t go to waste, will it? You won’t just drop the bits of me you don’t use in the trash or in an incinerator?”

“Oh no, of course now!” the taxidermist assured her, stroking her behind with both hands before giving it a playful squeeze but there was nothing predatory in the gesture, nor did Penelope feel “groped”, not that she would have minded under the circumstances. Instead his touch felt affectionate, almost grandfatherly. “After all,” he patted her firm, meaty cheeks, “it would be a crime to let this go to waste!” Penelope giggled and looked up at him with a happy smile. “No, nothing wasted, I promise you!” he grinned. “My wife’s going to make us a lovely steak and kidney pie for dinner this evening,” he put his hands comfortingly on her shoulders, “then whip up a couple of trays of individual pork pies, a nice liver pate and a pot of her famous chilli for your parents to take to the party tomorrow!”

“Oh wow!” Penelope felt a warm, euphoric feeling spreading from her chest. “Will you need to take me to the butcher over the road once you’ve taken my skin off?”

“Oh no!” the older man chuckled. “I may not be a professional but I know my way around a carcass! I used to go to a lot of hunts as a younger man and got pretty good at field-dressing girls your age or a bit older. In fact it was that hobby that sparked my interest in human taxidermy, mounting my trophies and suchlike!” The thought gave Penelope a little shudder of excitement. She knew that girl-hunts were a thing where girls, usually teens but sometimes preteens too, volunteered to participate in a deadly game where they would try to hide in some woods to be hunted, sometimes with rifles but sometimes with more traditional weapons like hunting bows or even spears and knives. There would be a time-limit on the hunt, whether it be hours or sometimes even a day or two, depending on the size of the hunting ground, with the hunters camping out in the woods, often taking it in turns to stay up and keep watch lest their prey decided to steal their weapons while they slept or prank them in some other way. Those who survived to the end were paid handsomely and those who were caught were, of course, harvested for their meat with the hunter who bagged them traditionally keeping their head or perhaps just their skull as a trophy and memento of the hunt.

“Well that’s good!” she beamed up at him. “So Uncle Colin will get to enjoy my meat too! That’s wonderful!”

“He will get to enjoy you in every way possible!” the taxidermist smiled with warm affection, stoking his young client’s pretty, golden-blonde hair. “But not if we don’t get started soon!” he chuckled.

“Of course!” Penelope smiled a little sheepishly. “What do we need to do first?”

“Well you, young lady,” he smiled at her, “need to take a nice long, hot bath to loosen your skin. Half an hour should do it! My wife should have the bath ready for you any minute and once you’re in, she’ll be bring you a drink. It’s quite a powerful drug and it won’t make you go to sleep but will put you into a sort of dream state so you can relax. You know you have to be alive when your skin comes off, right?”

“Oh yes!” Penelope nodded earnestly. “You told me all about that! If my heart stopped beating my skin would instantly start to shrink to my body and it would be really hard to get it off in one piece without tearing it and we don’t want that at all!” she assured him with a serious expression.

“Good girl!” the taxidermist nodded. “When it’s nearly time we’ll give you another drug, an injection this time, to put your body into shock and slow your heart so there won’t be too much blood. You might feel a little cold but by then you should really only be partially aware of what’s going on, a bit like a nice dream! There will be things in the water to help you relax too but don’t worry, none of this will effect the quality of your meat or your hide!” Penelope looked relieved. “I’ll strip your body first,” the man continued, “and put that in to soak in the preservation chemicals then I’ll do your head. Once all your skin is off, I will cut the artery in your neck and drain your blood to finish you off. If you are aware of it at all by then, it will just feel like going to sleep. Ah!” the man grinned as his wife appeared in the doorway which Penelope knew from prior experience connected to the bathroom of their house. “Speak of the Devil!”

“I ran the bath hot but it’s not exactly molten lava!” the kindly woman chuckled. “Come on, dear, let’s get you soaking!” With a final smile at the taxidermist and a glance at the small window of in the kiln, inside which she knew Craig must be long dead by now, his body burned to ashes inside the hard bronze shell that had been his skin, Penelope allowed herself to be led through the door into the bathroom where the full, steaming tub was waiting for her. On a small table next to the bath was tablet propped up to provide entertainment, a large glass of cold lemonade which was purely for her to enjoy or if she became thirsty and a second, smaller glass that she knew had to be the drug.

“It’s a very sweet wine,” the lady explained, “with a few drops of a special drug in it that’s made from poppy seeds. It was very popular in Victorian times and it’s banned now for recreational purposes but we’re allowed to use it for work.” she smiled. “Sit yourself down on the edge and drink it before you get in.” she suggested. Penelope did as she was told and looked down into the water which was indeed steaming like a stew pot, an effect accentuated by the petals and leaves which floated on the surface, either as decoration or as part of the promised sedative effect.

“I feel like Alice in Wonderland!” she giggled as she took the slim glass and put it to her lips.

“You look like her too!” the woman chuckled. “If we were asked to create a diorama for a library of museum of some kind, you’ve got exactly the look we’d be searching for!” She stroked Penelope’s hair almost wistfully as the pretty young girl steadily drained the sweet liquor from the glass, tipping her head back to ensure she swallowed every last drop! “Maybe your Uncle Colin will get some different outfits he can dress you up in?”

“Suggest it to my mum!” Penelope grinned, already feeling the pleasant tingling as the drug got to work in her system. “She’s always saying she never knows what to get him for birthdays or Christmas! She can give him dressing-up costumes to put me in!”

“Wonderful idea!” the woman smiled, taking the glass from her and setting it on a shelf away from the small table now that it was no longer needed. “So, what would you like to watch?” Penelope thought for a moment then named an animated sitcom that she felt quite grown up for understanding some of the jokes in. With an indulgent chuckle, the taxidermist’s wife found the show on one of the streaming apps available through the tablet. “Hmm, it says it’s for mature audiences only!” she sighed in a comically over-worried voice. “Still,” she winked, “I won’t tell if you don’t!”

“Cross my heart and hope to die!” Penelope giggled, making the gesture across her chest. Holding the woman’s hand, she stepped into the water which she could feel was very hot but the pleasant, almost cosy numbing sensation of the drug meant that it was not painful or even uncomfortable.

“Now,” the woman sounded a little more serious as Penelope lowered herself into the deep water, sliding down to get her shoulders under the surface, and smiled up at her to show that she was settled and comfortable, “you’ll probably want to play with yourself while you wait but please be very careful if you do! You don’t want to be red and sore for your preservation!” Cheekily, she leaned forward and teased one of the preteen’s perky nipples under the water with the tip of her finger. “Feel free to enjoy these!” she grinned.

“My sister was roasted like a chicken!” Penelope told the woman, a little dreamily. “After Daddy cut her head off in the garden! She was so yummy!”

“Sounds lovely!” the woman chuckled affectionately, standing by the door of the bathroom. “Speaking of which, I need to go start making my pastry! Did you hear I’m making a pie for dinner tonight?”

“Oh yes!” Penelope beamed. “Penelope pie!” she giggled. “And lots of other things for the party too! No waste, right?” She looked up at her earnestly. “You promise?”

“None what so ever!” the woman assured her. “After I’m done with the pies, chilli and pate I’ll put the rest in a soup then I’ll even boil your bones for stock. Once I’ve done that, they’ll go in with our other craft supplies to get used in future projects! Not a single scrap wasted!”

“Good!” Penelope sighed contentedly, closing her eyes. “Thank you!” She heard the door closed and listened to the cartoon for a little bit but her mind kept drifting. Seeing Craig crucified had made her think of the Passion Plays again, not only last year’s when her sister had been eaten but the more recent one in which she had once again played an angel in the gauzy white robe which left very little if anything to the imagination.

Jesus had been played by a boy this time, unlike the year before where all the potential volunteers were more interesting in participating in the promotional events for the new Gladiator movie at MAXX. The boy’s name was Josh and Penelope had been very interested when her Sunday School teacher explained that this was really the closest translation of Jesus’ name in English, the Hebrew form being Yeshua which was the diminutive of Yehoshua, translated elsewhere in the Bible as Joshua. She vaguely remembered that he had got in some sort of trouble the year before and had been sent away from his original assignment helping to oil the teenage roasters and had been told instead to wash the little boy who was going in the stew pot. She had never found out what he had actually done but the rumour going around was that he has said something rude about Miss Pritchard, the sweet Sunday School teacher who had gone in the pot.

If he had made a comment about her flat chest then he certainly got his comeuppance as she and the other girls, not to mention several members of the audience, had not been able to avoid giggling at how small his willy was, even fully erect, and there had been several jokes about how it should be presented on a cocktail stick rather than in a hotdog bun when his body was donated to the homeless shelter! Still, he had not been a bad-looking boy and had a decent figure otherwise.

The pot that year had been quite crowded, with Mrs Lucas, a busty brunette who would have been an amazing spit-roaster ten years earlier, sharing the pot with her twelve year old daughter Rebecca who was a smaller, slightly darker skinned copy of herself, and Rebecca’s best friend Lucy, a pretty, thin, pale-skinned blonde girl, along with a teenage couple, sixteen year old Ryan Martin and his fifteen year old girlfriend Jessica who both had something of a fixation about the stories of missionaries in the eighteenth and nineteenth century who were constantly said to be in danger of ending up in the stew pots of the “savages” they tried to convert and thought that it would be incredibly romantic to boil together, even if going to the butcher would really have been a better use of their meat. Like everyone the year before, the couple had had their heads shaved before climbing in so that their whole bodies could be used in the stew but the others, wanting their heads preserved and proud of their long, thick hair, especially Rebecca and Mrs Lucas, had declined. Instead, once they lost consciousness, their heads had been removed and set aside and their bodies allowed to slip down into the broth to finish cooking. Mr Lucas had got married again only a few weeks later to Lucy’s mother and although it was never confirmed by anyone involved, most people had assumed that volunteering for the pot was his first wife’s way of graciously stepping aside and the girls went with her to give their parents the chance for a complete fresh start.

The table of cuts for the grill had been well-stocked and, possibly inspired by Penelope’s sister Maddison the year before, two headless, cold roasted carcasses had joined the raw cuts, five year old Sophie Morgan in piggy-pose and Laura Mitchell as a turkey. Sophie’s older sisters, fifteen year old Kate and thirteen year old Elizabeth had provided the bulk of the prepared meat just as the Delaney sisters had the year before and the supply was supplemented by the usual selection of donated cuts from the friends and family of other Church members.

The highlight, as always, had been the three spit-roasts, two girls and a boy this time. Connor, the sixteen year old boy in question, had actually attracted a lot of attention and even earned a pair of photos along with his two fellow roasters in the local paper. The first showed the trio stood with their arms around each other, Connor in the middle of course, and the second showed them all on their spits, just as they began to cook. Connor had actually won the Gladiatorial games the previous Summer, earning himself and up to four guests a free meal at MAXX every week for a year. This had made him something of a local celebrity and, while he was proud to have won, he could not help being a little jealous of his vanquished rivals who ended up served to the public and so had decided to volunteer for the Church’s annual community barbecue. Fortunately for his reputation, as well as for the diners, Connor definitely did not suffer from the same issue as Josh and Penelope remembered watching with intrigued fascination as a spiked skewer was forced down the hole in the end of his hard sausage, all the way down its length, before the end was hooked into his belly-button like a piercing!

Cooking alongside him had been Alison Hampshire, a rather voluptuous, busty brunette of fifteen whose tender, meaty melons had needed to be pinned together for cooking, and seventeen year old Amy Logan who was less well-endowed in the breast department but had a wonderfully toned and meaty rump and thighs. Perhaps if she had not made her plans with Uncle Colin, Penelope pondered, she might have been in their place in a couple more years! They certainly did look beautiful as they roasted, nubile young bodies stretched out and turning slowly on their spits, and she knew she would have loved to get the attention they enjoyed, but she did not feel even a moment’s regret about the choice she had made, especially now she knew that her meat was to be enjoyed too!

It was hard to say how long she had been in the bath. Certainly the episode she had been half-watching had finished and she was a decent way into another when the taxidermist’s wife woke her up, but whether it was the next one or the second or third one in line she really had no idea. Everything felt like a dream. Her body felt somehow separate to herself, like it was a heavy coat she was wearing.

Something was being pushed into her neck. A needle, perhaps? She could feel the pressure but there was no pain. A warm feeling flooded her entire body

“Ready?” the kindly woman asked her. Penelope couldn’t quite remember what she was supposed to be ready for but the woman seemed nice and her voice was soothing so she nodded and allowed herself to be helped out of the bath. Supported by the woman who put one arm around her under hers and held her hand with the other, Penelope made her way back into the workshop where the blackened bronze statue of a young man in a cruciform position suspended from a metal frame was stood cooling in front of the kiln. Smiling contentedly, Penelope smiled at the burned metal man and blew him a kiss, remembering that they were friends of a sort.

The doctor’s-style couch next to the work table was now covered with clear plastic with a similar sheet on the floor underneath. Guided and assisted by the taxidermist and his wife, Penelope climbed up onto it and lay back, looking up at the roof tiles which constantly rearranged themselves into all sorts of pretty, abstract patterns.

The woman was rubbing her now with some sort of cream, starting with her foot and working her way up. Almost mechanically, Penelope lifted her legs when guided to do so and held out her arms. She moaned sweetly as the woman’s slick fingers slipped between her smooth, plump lips, the area she had been advised to leave alone in the bath, and even rubbed across the hard little nub between them, causing her to squirm happily.

“I’ve decided I’m going to make some special Chinese-style dumplings of these for your uncle!” the woman informed her cheerfully as she rubbed the cream into her perky little titties, causing her nipples to harden like they had when the taxidermist was demonstrating the doll’s special features. Penelope thought this sounded like a very nice idea. She couldn’t quite remember what dumplings were and only had the vaguest idea what the nice lady was talking about making them from but she remembered Uncle Colin and thought it sounded like something that would make him happy so she was totally on board. The cream on her face felt nice, soothing. Once her front was done, the women helped Penelope roll over onto her tummy so her elegantly curved back and cute little bubble-butt could receive the same treatment. She then helped her to turn around again and to sit up on the gently crinkling plastic.

“Are you ready?” the woman asked her husband. Ready for what? Penelope wondered. For dinner? There had certainly been talk of that earlier but that didn’t feel quite right. She was fairly sure there was something else that had to happen first, something important, something she was supposed to be a part of although she could not remember how or what. It was okay, she thought. The nice lady and gentleman would tell her if they needed her to do anything, she was sure. The man was telling his wife that yes, he was ready. “Lean forward and touch your toes, sweetheart!” the woman told her. Penelope did as she was told, sitting up with her feet shoulder-width apart and leaning forward to grab her toes like she had been taught in PE class, feeling the slight pull of the muscles on the backs of her legs and in her back and shoulders as she did so.

The man came and stood behind her, something shiny in his hand. A silver pen, perhaps? She felt something cold move down her spine as if something who had been playing in the snow was running their icy finger down her back, all the way from between her shoulders to just above the cleft of her backside. This sensation was accompanied by a loosening feeling, a slight sense of relief, like unzipping a coat that was a little too tight.

“Good girl!” the man told her, wiping her back with a damp cloth or wet-wipe and gently pushing the skin on her back out to the sides. There was a slight stinging feeling where the cold line had been drawn but not exactly painful. He was collecting up her hair now, holding it away from her neck, and she felt the same cold sensation but moving slower this time, starting at the back of her neck and moving round. As the taxidermist’s arm came in front of her she saw that the silver device she had thought was a pen was actually a knife with a tiny blade, like the one her dad used for cutting out the pieces of the models he liked to build. On the shelf in front of her was a row of heads from other girls so she guessed he must be cutting her head off but this seemed a strange way to do it. Surely the knife was far too small? It took an axe to take off a head, she was fairly certain, or one of those pretty frames like they use at weddings with the blade that drops down. He was going to be at it all day with that tiny knife, silly man! She could not help but giggle a little at the absurdity.

“Nearly there!” the man assured her with a chuckle in his own voice as the blade completed the circuit of her neck, making its way back to where it started. Once again the man wiped where he had been cutting with the damp cloth. Penelope gave her head an experimental shake but it did not fall off. Maybe the man had realised he was using the wrong tool for the job after all? He put a different cloth, a black one, over her left shoulder and gently laid her hair over it so that it hung down across one side of her chest. The stinging spread a little but quickly turned to a kind of warm pins-and-needles feeling as the man tugged at something on her back. The woman stood in front of her now and held her hands, keeping her bent forward, smiling at her reassuringly and telling her all the time how well she was doing. After a while, the woman reached forward and took told of something over Penelope’s shoulder and began to pull. The man was on her other side.