The art exhibit had been a grand success.

Many of the less grandiose art pieces had either been sold or released from their duties … Chantarelle had stood to make a lot of money from the single exhibition alone. She’d obviously given a big cut to the hotel and paid off for use of her room. But the single piece she had not sold or released yet was Sarab.

The wyvern had spoken to her, metaphorically speaking. The way he stood so still, the way his wings had been shifted into that vast, grand pose. It spoke to her in ways that very few had done in a long time. It inspired her. Made her want to do more pieces like him.

And she did.

She would get quite a few other wyverns and dragons and other such wyrm-like beings trapped in latex, posed in just the right ways. It hadn’t been easy, luring them into her studio to affix them to their new homes. But… even so, it never was quite the way she wanted. They’d gotten close, sure. But they never just… reached the same sort of beauty that her first piece got to. It didn't compel her as much, and as such she sent them off to museums or galleries.

She had kept the captive wyvern in her home, as she had just been so loath to part with him. The jaguar had even gone so far as to check with the hotel on the guest agreement that Sarab had signed and agreed to… black and white, clear as crystal, he had signed off on a contract that allowed him to be held indefinitely.  Most had to sign agreements that gave staff permission to release them after certain periods or in case of emergency. Sarab had signed no such contract, merely the catch all one that most ‘long term’ guests signed. And since Chantarelle had worked so hard on him, she was allowed to keep him as an art piece… the hotel’s creator and board of directors had talked to her about it over tea, after the exhibit, in the shadow of her creation…

She had been granted ownership of this now hypnotized wyvern, trapped in latex and heavily gagged underneath…

And yet what to do with him?

Therein lay the rub. 

===

He was happy. 

Sarab was pleased with himself. He couldn’t help but think back to them all. The smiling faces, the way they all gazed up at him from his spot in the middle of the room. The interactivity of the exhibit, the way they’d polished his new shell…

It was blissful.

Enough to make him rock hard and needy constantly. His cock twitched under the latex, the only movement that was present in the statue. Sarab had met quite a fate, as he had been encased as part of an art show for the Hostage Hotel’s Gallery Weekend. But this was a new life for him. A permanent one.

How he longed for new eyes to see his, to meet his… he had been trapped in this studio for a while now, and while he was still so relaxed, so content… he couldn’t help but feel the desire for more.

His eyes were hidden behind those pink tinted lenses, staring down at the frowning jaguar…

Begging to be put back out there… beghing to be admired once more…

===

She was in her studio, just observing him. Looking him over, in silence… her eyes narrowed as she ran her hand down his flank, sighing. How could one improve upon perfection? Part of her wanted to change up his pose. To see if she could capture the proverbial lightning in a bottle twice. But… to ruin such majesty for the sake of novelty… impossible. She couldn’t allow it. Not to the extent her brain was going for, anyway.

But… perhaps… minor changes. Improvements. Little things.

The jaguar sighed, pulling her hair back with a headband as she pulled on some gloves. Perhaps some detailing…?

She groaned as she was shaken from her thoughts by her cell phone chiming. Tossing her gloves aside, she picked it up. “Hello?”

“Hey, am I speaking to Chantarelle?”

“Yes, sir.” She recognized the voice of the other… it was the buck she had asked to help her capture Sarab.

“Great! I'm glad I caught you. I was told by my supervisor that we needed to talk to you about your ah, statue.” He sounded a bit sheepish, as it had been a lot of legal jargon, and something that the CEO and board had been in arguments about… “so… I guess you should know, we technically can’t fully release that Sarab fellow into your care.”

“You kind of already did.” She scoffed, paws gently running down his legs and against his restrained crotch. “He’s sitting so nicely in my studio right now. Its hard not to jjst stare at him all night.”

“Yes but I’m afraid that he’s still technically a guest of ours. And we’ve been pouring over the documents, and we can’t hand him off to you completely.”

“Well, you can’t just take him away! As a statue I own his likeness.” The jaguar said with a huff as she started to mold the latex on his legs. Just making paw details, adding some latex here and there on his front to give the illusion of hooves. 

“Understandable. But we have reached a compromise in a sense. We just needed to run it by you.” The buck replied hastily. “We can house him in the hotel as part of the staff. A greeter, guest services, that sort of thing. So while he wouldn’t belong to you as a statue, we could have him be your roommate for the purposes of paperwork.”

“Hm.” Chantarelle paused in her work. “Go on.”

==

Sarab was in a blissful haze.

The wyvern was so relaxed, unable to move… unable to stop himself from feeling his cock pulse against the tight latex. He could feel the way the artist moved the latex around, added to it. A small voice deep inside knew this was wrong, that there had to be a way out. But it was squashed, again and again as he felt himself twitch and leak inside the suit.

He was perfectly still, unable to move even if he wanted to. His legs were carefully tended to, the gloved hands molding the latex to emphasize his musculature… his digits on his rear legs, his claws… while his front legs were hidden under hooves. He could feel the weight of them, engulfing his claws as he struggled to flex and move them… to no avail.

The faint, distant speech from beyond the latex was muffled but he could tell she was there. He stared at her from behind those pink tinted lenses, unblinking as he let his mind drift with delight… vaguely, he felt the way her talented hands pushed more of the latex against his straining cock, leaving nothing but a nulge there… and groan softly as he felt the area go numb. No sensation, nothing could get through… all he could feel was his own arousal and a buried vibe that was a few layers under the latex… it was strong enough to be felt but not nearly enough for him to cum…

Was that what it was?

It was hard to say.

Any time he tried to focus, it just buzzed hard enough to shake him out of it… a good feeling but he could only quietly beg for more…

That sensation was enough to stir him a bit from his daze, wanting to rut against his latex skin… but there was no moving himself. The latex had hardened and cooled ages ago. There was simply no way for him to move unless the outer shell was cut or removed. And the layer underneath was still pliable, but tough…

But why would he want to?

It felt so good… so freeing, not having to think. Just being set up, admired, adored by all who lay their eyes upon him!

He could feel himself being moved, carried out on a large wheeled cart… he barely paid attention to anything except the slow touches he felt against his flank and tail. 

He could feel latex being added. Lots of it. Mostly to the bottoms of his paws and part of his tail. He couldn’t have known he was being affixed to his new position, where he would work and be beheld by all who walked through the front door…

Through his lenses, he could see the artist he had watched before, the lady who had helped put him in this wonderful new shell… it felt so good, so relaxing… she was speaking with someone outside, a buck… one of the workers there? Well… they seemed to be admiring him. As they should. He couldn't help but smile despite his muzzle, proud of himself. For what, he couldn’t quite say. But he was happy.

The buck raised a camera, taking a photo. The flash dazzled Sarab a bit, making him see spots… but all he knew was that he was being admired. And that’s all that mattered to him.

One down, one to go.

The art showcase was mostly complete. But the tactile portion of the exhibit was still missing a couple components. The stuffed fox would be perfectly acceptable for people to take photos with and hug the legs of, but there was still no centerpiece.

The coordinator was very much furrowing her brow here, pacing the halls of the place to try and find a suitable centerpiece for this mess. The exhibit opened soon, so… ugh.

Chantarelle would storm out of the lobby to go get some air, huffing and clearly annoyed to hell. Maybe she's just take a walk, and just take a step back from this.

The annoyed jaguar would find herself in the larger accommodations, the stable-like rooms for larger guests. She would find it a bit easier to pace out there, where there was less to distract her….

Or not.

A dragon would slowly spiral their way down from up high, shining wings broad and beautiful. Chantarelle would watch them slowly circle the building and land in a clearing. Her eyes were glued to the beast as they shook themselves off and yawned, before heading towards the entrance…

Yes, they would do nicely.

Chantarelle would trot off to the buck in charge of this section of the hotel, already cooking up ideas on how to handle this…

==

Sarab's vacation was going well.

He had needed time to just be on his own, enjoy the beauty of this hotel. He had a hypno-session planned up thanks to the Lung dragon Concierge that worked here. Specifically, Hypno-meditation, something that would ease his mind and help him stay calmer for longer.

Normally, this would take place in his room. But apparently there had been a shift in some schedules, and now it would need to take place in the ballroom of the hotel. Odd, but the staff had assured him it was all above board, and that he would not be disturbed during the process.

The larger, back shutter had been opened for him as he approached, with a very slender doe waiting in a flowing lilac colored robe… she smiled gently at him, ushering him inside. "Our apologies for the sudden shift in venue." She began, as she had him settle in a circle of candles that she began to light up one by one. "I assure you, this change will not decrease the quality of your trance. If you are ready, we can begin."

She slid a pair of goggles over his eyes, covering them with specialized and magically treated cloth…"now just relax, and focus on the sound of my voice." She shines a light through some specialized crystal lenses, hovering over him and speaking. "You are at peace with yourself, my dear Sarab. You can just let all your worries float away, fading and being carried away by the winds of time."

The dragon would settle in, curled up and humming. It felt good, being spoken to like this. The light made his eyes sparkle behind their coverings, as he slowly started to sink into the trance…

"You can feel all your worries being taken away. And in its place, there is confidence. A sense of being. Strength and fortitude. You are strong, my dear! A figure of confidence." The doe continued, gently lifting his head into her hands and cupping his face.

Yes… this was nice! Any sort of worries, fears, and cares were being pushed off, like dandelion fluff on the breeze. He would sit up, nodding and rumbling, as the doe hummed and massaged his neck. Sarab sat up, tall and proud, as he allowed her to rub him down and help him relax…

Though perhaps he should have been listening to her speech…

"You are the pinnacle of confidence. Standing tall and strong and still above the others around you." She continued, smiling as her helpers crept up slowly around him. "You, who would spread your vast wing sails and showcase it, not out of vanity, no. But because the world deserves to see it. To see you hold yourself in such a grand pose, to tower over them all… to be admired…"

Sarab nodded, allowing the doe to gently and carefully move him into whatever position she was describing. It felt… good. To spread his wings and sit up on his hind legs like this. His claws were furled and kept closed as he stood up, jaws spread… 

"Now hold still, my dear."

The doe would muzzle him with a tight cloth muzzle, strapping it down and allowing her assistants to begin the process of securing their newest attraction.

"You are a figure, a statue, an art piece in the eyes of those around you. A towering and grand figure. One worthy of the adoration of those below. You deserve all of their praise, all of their love…" she kept going as the bucks worked to slide the living latex onto the posing dragon.

Sarab would not budge a muscle. He was happy! He truly did deserve all of this attention… he should have gotten it so much sooner, after all. He allowed the bucks to work the latex up his body, with one of them starting on his wings… the latex near his joints stiffened, keeping them in that pose. He could wiggle a little, but not nearly enough to showcase that a being was under all that latex.

"And you deserve their doting. To be polished, to be tended to by the masses .." the doe continued, as one of the bucks worked a glob of the latex over the dragon's head. Two pink lenses, shining like jewels, would be placed over the glassy eyes of the captive as the latex trickled down to connect with the rest of the mass. "You deserve to be polished and waxed, admired in a museum for generations to come."

Sarab couldn't help but agree. He squirmed slightly as he was finally encapsulated entirely, unable to move or even really inhale. Not that he cared. He was basically a god, he should be treated as such! He didn't even care as he was gently placed on a pushcart and wheeled into the exhibit room, and was placed in the very center of the place. Where he belonged, of course. He loomed over the doe and her fellow workers, deaf to their words as he was lost in his own thoughts. He cared not for the jaguar that spoke to them, only wishing to be praised and polished. 

He sat in the exhibit hall in a daze, squirming slightly to adjust to his sore muscles. But the latex held up well, and he would be able to keep his pose no matter how much he was jostled.

His dim but sparkling eyes would stare down as the exhibit finally opened, allowing in guests and visitors alike. He wanted nothing more than to be adored, and he would get his wish. The masses loved him, taking photos with him, and commenting on the realistic composition of his body…

And his favorite part… between droves of people, a janitor would come over to his roost and gently polish and clean his outer shell. He couldn't help but delight in it, feeling a deep shudder of satisfaction as he was cleaned.

He was the perfect statue.

None could ever compare to him.