by RM, 
Rastatue on IRC Sandnet #ASFR 
email: rastatue@hotmail.com 
(DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of erotic fiction, intended for readers who are eighteen years of age or otherwise over the legal age mandated by their city, county, nation, or other political entity for the viewing of such adult material. This story contains nudity, adult language, and graphic depictions of sex between both people and statuary. If you are not of legal age, or such material offends you, please do not read farther. You have been warned.)
    Kurt finished brushing off the surface of the low white 
marble pedestal with a feather-duster. He stood up and walked over to the 
full-length mirror that they'd rolled into the living room, adjusting its angle 
so that it reflected the space above the empty pedestal. "I think everything's 
ready," he said, turning to Sara. "Are you?" 
    "More than 
ready," she replied with a grin. Sara was sitting on the edge of the coffee 
table, dressed in denim cut-offs and a frayed sports bra. Her long auburn hair 
was tied back in a loose ponytail, and she was eating Pringles from the can 
while she watched him work -- sour cream and onion, her favorite. "Did you make 
all the phone calls?" She sealed up the can and brushed the salt off her 
fingers. 
    "Yep. And not only is everyone we invited gonna 
show up, most of them are bringing several guests of their own. I think we're 
gonna have a full house tonight for our little exhibit. I just hope we made 
enough snacks and hors d'oevres and stuff." 
    "If not, it's 
too late now." Sara grinned again. "Go get the stuff while I get undressed." She 
hopped up lightly, ponytail bouncing, and ran back into their bedroom with the 
enthusiasm of a schoolgirl. 
    Kurt walked into the kitchen 
and opened the refrigerator, retrieving two small bottles from behind a 
tupperware of leftover potato salad. Both bottles were wrapped in non-descript 
brown paper. He closed the fridge door quickly, trying to control his 
excitement. 
    "If everything goes as planned," he said 
aloud to himself, "this is going to be an extremely interesting evening." He 
chuckled mischeviously. 
    About two weeks ago, Kurt and 
Sara had celebrated their second anniversary as a couple. Most of their close 
friends had given them gifts, but the most interesting present had been from 
Sara's friend Kristin. Both women were graduate students at the local 
university. Sara was working on her masters degree in sculpture, doing 
figurative works in the classical tradition. Her pieces were like classical 
Greek and Roman nudes, only much more explicit, and often very strange. Kurt had 
met her at one of her openings in the school's gallery and the two had fallen in 
love almost immediately. They soon discovered that they shared not just a mutual 
interest in sculpture, but a fetish for turning people into living statues as 
well. The two of them played lots of sexual games along these lines, but always 
shared a wish that there was some way to make these fantasies real. 
    That was where Kristin had come in. After their 
anniversary party, she had approached the two of them in a very conspiratorial 
way, saying she wanted to give them "a little something" that she'd "cooked up 
in the lab." Kristin was doing graduate work in advanced biochemistry, working 
on methods of preserving tissue samples for later laboratory analysis. She 
explained that in the course of this research she'd stumbled onto a discovery 
with much broader and more interesting applications: a liquid with the power to 
transform living tissue into solid stone, specifically white marble. After 
petrifying a few lab rats, she'd managed to create a second liquid, an antidote 
that returned the stone tissue to life with no lingering effects she could find. 
Kristin said that she had thought of Kurt and Sara immediately. It was then that 
she'd presented them with the two paper-wrapped bottles, gleefully exclaiming 
"Surprise, you statue-lovin' perverts!" 
    Kurt walked back 
into the living room with the bottles. Sara stood gloriously nude on the 
pedestal in the center of the room, underneath the ceiling fan and lights. Her 
clothes lay in a pile on the couch. Even after two years, Kurt was still in awe 
of her beauty. Sara was tall, about five eleven, with a long slender figure. Her 
skin was tanned to a honey-gold with only the barest hint of tan lines. Her long 
auburn-brown hair, a little wavy, cascaded from her smooth clear forehead to 
between her shoulder-blades. She had large clear brown eyes, a small pert nose, 
high cheekbones, and a finely pointed chin. Her shoulders were broad and her 
arms muscular from long hours in the studio chiseling raw stone into works of 
art. Her breasts were large and taut and round, with dark nipples standing tight 
and erect now in her excitement. Her torso was slender, her stomach toned, and 
her wide curvaceous hips slid down into long sleek legs. Kurt shivered a little, 
his eyes drawn to the dark brown triangle between her legs. 
    "Wow," he breathed. "You look gorgeous. You sure seem 
anxious to get started." 
    "I am," she said eagerly. "I've 
been wondering for so long what it would feel like to be one of my statues, I 
can't believe its actually going to happen. We're gonna have to do something 
really nice for Kristin if this works." 
    "Of course it's 
gonna work! Kristin tested it, and we tested it." Shortly after receiving their 
gift, they had decided to try the formula on their housecat, Asterix. Kristin 
had told them to use the little eyedropper built into the caps of the bottles to 
place a single drop of the fluid onto whomever or whatever they wanted to turn 
into stone. They transformed Asterix while he played with a rubber mouse on a 
string. Kurt placed the marble tomcat in the garden birdbath for a few days and 
watched the neighborhood sparrows splash in the water just inches from his 
immovable stone claws. A few even took to perching atop his fossilized ears. 
Asterix seemed fine when they reanimated him, but had spent most of his time 
since then catching and killing sparrows. Kurt suspected a revenge motive, but 
on the other hand Asterix had been pretty sadistic before, even for a cat. 
    "Hey, quit daydreaming and lets get going!" 
    Kurt realized he'd been staring glazedly at Sara's body 
while his mind wandered. He grinned wolfishly at her and unwrapped the bottles. 
Kristin had said to keep them in a cool dry place, away from light. Kurt thought 
that sounded like instructions for Parmesan cheese. He selected the bottle 
marked "Medusa" and put the other one on the coffee table. 
    Sara felt butterflies of anticipation dancing in her 
stomach as Kurt walked over to her perch on the pedestal. This still seemed far 
too good to be true. To actually become a work of art! The idea made her nipples 
even harder and she felt a delightful tingling moistness in her sex. She tossed 
her hair back and arranged it carefully with her fingers, then let her arms fall 
loosely to her sides. She planted her feet about shoulder-width apart and stood 
with her best posture, thrusting her chest out just a little so that her breasts 
looked larger. She rolled her head and shoulders and shook the tension out of 
her arms. "How do I look?" she asked hesitantly. 
    "I told 
you, honey. You look gorgeous." 
    "Are you sure?" she 
frowned. She looked herself over carefully in the full-length mirror. "Is my 
hair okay? I want to look my best for this. Tell me the absolute truth." 
    Kurt stepped up onto the edge of the pedestal, his face 
just inches from hers, and looked into those liquid brown eyes. He kissed her 
gently. "Honey, you look incredible. You're a goddess. You're going to make a 
beautiful statue." 
    Sara smiled radiantly at these last 
words. "I can't believe I'm really going to do this. This is amazing." She was 
so full of excitement and anticipation that she felt she might explode. "Okay 
then," she declared, as Kurt ever so carefully drew a single droplet of the 
fluid into the eyedropper. "I think I'm ready to be stoned." 
    Kurt stepped up onto her pedestal and kissed her, 
pressing his lips passionately against her own, their tongues entwining 
sensuously. With the hand that was free of the dropper, he danced his fingers 
down the turn of her muscular shoulder to cup her breast in his hand. He fondled 
and kneaded it, before moving his mouth down to suckle the tight nipple, his 
tongue teasing it expertly. Sara struggled to keep her chosen pose, her eyes 
widening and her lips spreading into an ecstatic smile. She fluttered her 
fingers as they hung at her sides, the only expression of her pleasure she 
allowed herself as she fought to stay in her chosen pose. Kurt stepped away from 
her, and waited for the space of a breath. 
    Then he let a 
single drop of the liquid fall between her breasts. 
    Sara 
gasped suddenly at the unexpected splash of the ice-cold liquid, which rolled a 
few inches down her soft skin before being absorbed. Sara's eyes widened as she 
felt a tingle spread through her body. Her skin felt electrified. Then she 
froze, her body suddenly rigid, her eyes wide and her lips spread in a smile of 
surprise and delight. Her breasts no longer rose and fell with her breath, her 
fingers were motionless in mid-flutter at her sides, and even her hair was 
unstirred by the breeze from the ceiling fan. Sara realized that she was still 
fully conscious. She could feel that her heart and breath had ceased their 
rhythms, but she felt no fear. In fact, she felt a warm pleasant sensation 
spreading through her paralyzed body, followed by more of that peculiar 
tingling. It must be the transformation beginning, she thought. 
    A crackling sound filled the quiet room. Sara felt her 
skin stiffen and her muscles harden, making her body feel dense and cold and 
solid. Her feet began to tingle intensely, and she was able to see in the mirror 
that the skin there was fading, turning from its normal honey-brown color to 
that of old parchment and then a greyish hue. Finally her feet became pure white 
and took on the glossy shine of alabaster. In the mirror she could see that the 
petrified flesh preserved every detail of her living body. The lines and 
wrinkles of her soles, her petite toenails, even the filigree of delicate veins 
crisscrossing the top of her feet were now sculpted in stone. Her marble feet 
were so intensely detailed and life-like that they were like entire sculptures 
in and of themselves. As Sara watched, the tingling and the transformation moved 
upward, passing through her slender ankles and then turning her slim calves into 
polished white marble. The wave of stone moved past her locked knees and began 
to petrify the voluptuous contours of her thighs. Sara could feel the skin there 
cooling and hardening as it was suffused with the tingling sensation. 
    Kurt stepped closer to Sara's petrifying figure and 
placed a hand on the warm smooth skin of her thigh. As the transformation moved 
toward his hand, he felt her skin cool rapidly until it felt icy to the touch. 
As the color began to fade it seemed to stiffen, the skin feeling rubbery. As 
her flesh turned white it felt as though he were touching a piece of molded 
plastic. And as the change was complete and her thighs were a glossy white, Kurt 
felt her skin grow as hard as stone. He was stunned. 
    Kurt 
stepped back and watched the wave of transformation continue to flow upwards, 
like a liquid whose very strangeness allowed it to defy the law of gravity. The 
stony tide lapped over her sex, turning the lovely brown pubic hair into a faux 
fig-leaf, each tiny hair modeled perfectly in marble. The sensuous lips below 
became a frozen carving, a perfect likeness of her warm moist pussy, preserved 
in polished white stone. And then the wave moved onwards, converting the slender 
hourglass of her torso into that of a Greek goddess. 
    Sara 
felt the transformation move up the smooth curve of her belly, leaving only 
unmoving white stone behind it. She wanted to groan in pleasure, but her body 
remained rigid and still. At the same time, the stone moved up her arms. Her 
fluttering fingers were fixed in place, her hands turned into slender 
sculptures, and the lean elongated muscles in her arms became sleek curves as 
her limbs turned into stone. She had expected her petrified skin to become cold 
and numb, utterly unfeeling, but instead the transformation seemed to increase 
her sense of touch. She could feel her body changing into marble with 
excruciating clarity, and after it was changed she could feel even the slightest 
breeze on her fossilized skin. Kurt's hand on her thigh had been heavenly, his 
simple touch erotic. Sara wondered at this for a moment, until the sensation of 
her breasts turning to stone jolted her back to reality. Almost all at once, the 
stony color and hardness engulfed the plump mounds, hardening them into polished 
marble globes. She wanted to scream with pleasure as she felt her erect nipples 
grow tighter and harder, tighter and harder, until they became sculpted pebbles. 
But she could only stand fixed in that final pose as the slow wave of 
transformation turned her into a living statue. 
    The lean 
musculature of her wide shoulders and upper chest turned a glossy white and 
froze into sculpted curves of marble. The transformation spread up her neck, 
stiffening its long graceful length into a stone pillar. She felt the wave of 
delightful stony sensation flow up her neck muscles and around the back of her 
head, and she felt the roots of her hair coarsen and stiffen. Her long mane of 
auburn hair transformed into a flowing waterfall of white marble, each 
individual strand perfectly sculpted into the solid mass that fell down her 
shoulders and fused to the smooth stone between her shoulderblades. Sara felt 
her smiling lips freeze and fuse together, and then felt the skin of her 
forehead, nose, and cheekbones stiffen up as her face glazed over, becoming a 
rigid mask of her frozen features. She felt her eyes dry and harden into smooth 
white orbs in their sockets, but she discovered she could still see perfectly. 
Every inch of her gorgeous body was now turned entirely to stone. She could feel 
her whole body held frozen in that delighted pose. Her skin felt supernaturally 
sensitive and exquisitely smooth, and her muscles felt solid as rock. It took no 
effort at all to maintain her motionless pose. She felt somehow suspended, 
weightless, as if she were floating or flying. She realized that she was made 
out of stone now, turned into a living marble statue. It felt wonderful. The 
crackling sound that had accompanied her petrification slowly faded away. 
    For a moment, Sara felt as if she were in a dream. She 
had fantasized about becoming a statue for so many years, it was hard to believe 
it had actually happened. She tried to wiggle her fingers, but found they 
wouldn't budge. She tried to move her arms from their positions at her sides, 
but they wouldn't move. She tried to take a step, to turn her head, to speak to 
Kurt, but found that this was all now impossible. Her body was rigid, immobile, 
statue-still. The motionlessness was very arousing, as she felt the air blow 
gently across her hardened nipples and between her fluttering fingers, as her 
body stood frozen solidly in place. Her eyes were fixed in place, but she could 
see her unmoving figure in the full-length mirror. The statue that she had 
become was a perfect image of her living body, captured and preserved perfectly 
in solid marble. Her skin was smooth and white, gleaming in the late afternoon 
light. Her petrified flesh was hard and cold, smooth as glass, and polished to a 
lustrous glow. Her lean muscles were captured in stone, preserved as elegant 
slopes and curves in the shape of her marble figure. Yes, it had finally 
happened and it was very real. Her body was turned into stone. My god, she 
thought. It's incredible! She stood transfixed in that last pose, smiling and 
wide-eyed as she stood frozen in pure white marble. Inside her fossilized 
figure, Sara became both joyful and aroused. Here she was, standing nude, 
motionless, and white as a statue of herself in the middle of her own living 
room. She was sculpted stone. Her dream had come true. 
    
For several long minutes, she just stood there as a sculpture, feeling Kurt's 
wide eyes wandering over the curves of her newly-petrified body. The sunlight 
gleamed on the sleek contours of her carven muscles as he walked around and 
around her sculpture, appraising it from all sides as a knowledgeable art patron 
would peruse the nuances of a Greek masterpiece. Kurt reached out his hand and 
stroked a finger along the polished hemisphere of one of her marble buttocks. 
Sara just stood motionless, a beautiful work of art on display for his 
appreciation. Thrills of pleasure raced through her rigid body. She was in 
bliss, standing naked and petrified, on exhibit as a living statue. It was 
another fantasy come true. 
    Kurt moved back around in 
front of her, where she could see him with her fixed marble eyes. "You're a 
statue!" he exclaimed. "You're really turned into stone!" 
    
Of course, Sara thought. Isn't this great? She wanted to reply but she couldn't, 
since her lips were sealed together and fixed in a carven smile. Her petrified 
face was a silent white mask of permanent surprise and delight. Besides, the 
answer to his statement was obvious as she stood before him turned into a marble 
female nude. 
    Kurt stood up slowly and stepped close to 
her statue. He looked into her frozen face, his breath fogging the glistening 
polished planes of her carven features. He looked at the detail in her petrified 
skin. The slight wrinkles developing in her twenty-four-year-old face were 
visible, as were her pores as tiny pits in the stone. The lines were visible in 
her stony lips as they formed a sculpted smile. Her carven nose stood like a 
Roman arch from the marble mask of her face. Her smiling cheeks were rounded and 
gleaming, and the rough lines of her eyebrows were arched in surprise. Her brown 
hair was now a flowing white wave of stone drifting back from her brow and down 
her shoulders. Kurt looked into her eyes, expecting to find them as life-like as 
the rest of her face, but was confronted by a stare that was literally blank. 
Sara's eyebrows were rough ridges, the folds of her eye sockets and eyelids were 
etched delicately in the marble, and each eyelash was turned into a tiny stone 
shaft along the curve of her open eyes. But the wide eyes themselves were blank 
marble orbs, smooth and polished. Unbroken crescents of gleaming white stone 
staring fixedly at the living world. No life -- in fact, no iris or pupils 
carved into the white curves. Just blank orbs, like the eyes of a Renaissance 
nude. The frozen mask of her face stayed passive and unchanging as Kurt gently 
stroked his fingers along her smooth white cheek. He brushed her carven mouth, 
feeling the soft lips now hardened into unresponding stone. He waved his hand in 
front of her eyes, but they continued to stare fixedly into the mirror. The full 
reality of Sara's petrification was beginning to sink in. She was really, 
completely turned into stone. 
    "You're beautiful, Sara. 
You're a work of art." Kurt swallowed hard. "You have no idea just how wonderful 
you look right now! You're even more exquisite in marble than I ever dreamed." 
Sara felt a thrill of excitement as he teased her, saying, "You're just a statue 
now, a display piece! Something to be put into a museum for people to look at!" 
    He ran his hands over the smooth curves of her muscular 
marble shoulders and down the length of her arms, feeling the shapes of her 
muscles, now turned into solid contours of stone. Kurt noticed that Sara's slim 
white chest was permanently expanded in the midst of a breath, accentuating the 
sensuality of her lovely sculpted figure. Her marble breasts were large and 
full, and the tips of the two stony globes were decorated with the cold pebbles 
that were formerly her erect nipples. He briefly fondled the cold white stone of 
her frozen nipples, and cupped her hard marble breasts in his hands, before 
running his palms down the gentle curves of her torso. Her tight abdomen was a 
graceful stone hourglass, her marble stomach was adorned by subtle swells of 
muscle, and her sculpted hips flared sensuously wide around the solidified patch 
of hair that covered her stone vagina. Her elegant marble torso was perfect 
enough to be that of a carefully carven monument. 
    Kurt 
moved around behind her stationary form to examined her voluptuous marble 
anatomy from the rear. Her slender shoulders and lustrous white arms were just 
as admirable from that vantage, and her shoulderblades were visible fixed among 
the carven muscles of her strong back. He placed a finger on her neck and slowly 
moved down the ridge of her rodlike spine, from the base of her long neck down 
her frozen torso to her slim waist. Her polished marble buttocks were firm and 
round, as tight with muscle as her sensual stone hips. He walked around in front 
of her unmoving figure once more. 
    Her white marble legs 
were long and curvaceous, and Kurt admired her wide hips and rounded calves as 
they lay immobilized in polished stone. Her arms and legs held elegant curves 
that suggested the lean stone muscles just below the smooth white skin, and even 
fixed in cold stone her sleek figure had an elegant grace. She made a perfect 
marble statue. 
    Kurt bent down slightly until his face was 
level with her chest, and took one of her stone nipples into his mouth. He 
licked, sucked, and carressed it with his tongue, feeling with pleasure the 
sensation of his rough wet tongue sliding over the smooth contours of the marble 
nipple. He released it and gave her other fossilized nipple the same treatment 
before licking and fondling the rest of her large white stone breasts. Sara felt 
waves of intense pleasure wash through her stone body as Kurt touched her. It 
seemed as if the transformation had made her skin even more sensitive than it 
had been in life. Desperately, she wanted to move or respond to the touch of her 
lover, or at least to scream out her ecstasy to the world. But she remained 
frozen, completely motionless in marble as a statue, her sensual body rigid and 
inflexible in lustrous white stone. 
    "Oh, Sara," Kurt 
breathed, stepping away from her. Sara felt the waves of intense sensation 
slowly fade away. "You don't know how much I want to truly make love to you. 
You're so beautiful like this, so gorgeous as a statue. But I don't think 
there's time." He checked his watch, and unfortunately he was right. 
    Sara stood impassive on her pedestal as Kurt moved around 
her, walking in and out of the room. First, he put the eyedropper back in the 
bottle, then wrapped both containers in their brown paper and stashed them back 
in the fridge. Then he walked past her statue and back into her studio, where he 
retrieved several of her studio lights. He set these up around the base of her 
pedestal, carefully angling them to highlight and accentuate the best features 
of her nude marble body. He set up three long tables around the room and then 
covered them with wine glasses and bottles, and trays of snacks and hors 
d'oevres. He rolled the full-length mirror back into their bedroom, then 
returned to move the furniture around to create an open area around Sara's 
statue and the tables, adjusting every seat to face her living sculpture. Sara 
simply waited, enjoying the erotic feeling of being turned to stone. She could 
do nothing in her petrified state. Finally, Kurt took a moment to look 
everything over before he was satisfied. He checked his watch again. 
    "Well, everything's ready," he said, collapsing onto the 
couch. "I hope you're ready to be the centerpiece, Sara. It's too bad your 
friends won't know that it's really you." He grinned. Sara simply stared 
forward, frozen in stone, unable to respond to his tease. 
    
Kurt had just enough time to slip into a casual jacket and tie before the 
doorbell rang and guests started to arrive. Just a few at first, then more and 
more, until finally their living room was packed. Kurt greeted every new arrival 
warmly, welcoming them to their little private opening to show Sara's latest 
sculpture. He made the excuse for her absence that they'd worked out earlier: 
that she'd been called unexpectedly to New York to talk with some wealthy buyers 
who were interested in purchasing some of her other work. Everybody seemed to 
buy the excuse, even her closest friends. Pretty soon music started up and 
people were helping themselves to the wine and snacks. A good time seemed to be 
going on. Everyone wandered around, talking, laughing, and admiring her statue. 
    As the crowd around her sculpture steadily thickened, 
Sara started to feel people sneaking a feel of her stone flesh. First a hand 
curled around the carven nub of her petrified nipple, teasing and then pinching 
its hardness. A few sets of hands stroked across the taut marble globes of her 
perfect, petrified ass. Someone tickled her sculpted navel. Someone else traced 
a finger around the shapes of her stone shoulderblades. Numerous people cupped 
their hands around her frozen breasts. Sara couldn't tell who was enjoying her 
rigid body. The crowd moved and flowed around her pedestal constantly, and the 
questing hands seemed to emerge anonymously from the mass of shifting people. 
She didn't know who was touching her, but she did know that it felt wonderful. 
It was thrilling to feel the hands and fingers fondling her motionless stone 
body, enjoying the sexy contours of what they thought was just a normal figure 
of stone. None of them had any idea that there was a living woman in the marble, 
aching to cry out at each passing touch. 
    Sara looked 
around at the crowd with her blank stone eyes, noticing lots of her friends and 
lots of Kurt's, as well as a large number of people she'd never seen before. 
Just then Kurt brought two well-dressed women up to her pedestal, leading the 
pair with a gentle hand at their elbows and doing his best art-dealer schmooze. 
Kurt pointed at Sara's petrified body. 
    "This is Sara's 
latest work. It's a self-portrait. She wanted to portray herself in marble, but 
she wanted to do something a little different than traditional portraiture, so 
she chose this pose. You'll notice the wide eyes, the expression of surprise and 
pleasure, the obvious arousal of her body. She wanted it to look almost like a 
stone snapshot, as if she'd been suddenly and unexpectedly captured in marble. 
Like a candid photograph -- a bedroom photograph of one's lover, if you will." 
    The well-dressed pair blushed, and chuckled politely. 
Their eyes skimmed expertly over the sleek marble contours of Sara's living 
statue, judging her figure's workmanship and possible value. Sara felt the 
pressure of their appraising stares like a physical pressure or touch as she 
stood there frozen and completely nude in front of these two strangers. It was a 
kick! She felt a little shiver of delight in her stony figure. She was a living 
work of art posed nude and motionless in the midst of this crowd of strangers, 
none of whom had any idea that she was a real woman turned to stone and simply 
put on display for their amusement. Talk about exhibitionism, she thought wryly. 
    "It's exquisite," said the first woman, a shapely blonde 
in a red satin dress. She ran her fingers absently down the smooth white skin of 
Sara's stone arm. "And the detail is incredible. How does she do it?" 
    Kurt smiled, doing his best to look mysterious. He put 
his own hand on the elegant curve of the statue's shoulder and rubbed it 
absently. "Well, obviously I can't tell you that, even if I knew the answer. 
Trade secret, you know." The well-dressed pair chuckled politely again. 
    The other woman, a brunette in slinky black, was more 
forward. She put her hand on Sara's sculpted breast, rubbing and fondling the 
gleaming marble flesh, her warm palm sliding across the alabaster pebble of 
Sara's hardened nipple. Sara felt the pleasure wash through her again, and again 
her inability to move or cry out or respond in way only made the feeling 
stronger and more intoxicating. She'd never guessed that being a living statue 
would be quite this much fun. The brunette kept teasing Sara's marble tit as she 
turned to Kurt. "It's a shame that she couldn't be here tonight. I'd love to 
compare this portrait to the real thing, you know, get an idea of just how 
talented she is. And if this sculpture is true to life, I'd certainly like to 
meet your girlfriend!" The woman's hand slid down the polished white skin of 
Sara's marble stomach to lightly finger the petrified pubic hair, which looked 
like the artistically whorled curls that decorate ancient Roman nudes. 
    "It's very much true to life, let me assure you," Kurt 
smiled. The group talked a bit more among themselves, ignoring Sara like the 
inanimate object she had now become, their voices too low for her to hear over 
the music and the murmur of the crowd. Finally, the well-dressed pair moved off 
toward the wine and hors d'oevres. Kurt soon followed them, circulating through 
the crowd shaking hands and making introductions and small talk. Sara simply 
stood there naked and petrified, as people crossed her field of vision, eating 
and laughing and talking. 
    People continued to touch and 
carress her living statue. It seemed she was too beautiful, too life-like, to be 
enjoyed simply by sight. Sara felt a pair of hands -- large, a man's -- touch 
the smooth white curves of her buttocks, running across the polished white skin 
of her tight marble ass. She couldn't move her hands to brush them away, or turn 
her head to see who it was feeling her up. The hands kept roaming, straying down 
to her upper thighs and up to the small of her back. She heard a few murmured 
comments before the hands and the voice disappeared back into the crowd. 
    Another pair of hands stroked her muscular stone 
shoulders, fondling the sleek motionless musculature of her shoulders and upper 
arms. The fingers slipped around to tickle her armpit, and there came a 
delighted squeal. "Oh, look," came another unseen voice, "A little bit of armpit 
hair! This is just too accurate!" When the tickling sensation faded from her 
polished skin, Sara wished to herself that she'd remembered to shave under there 
before her transformation. 
    A hand curled around the 
carven nub of her petrified nipple, teasing and then pinching its hardness. A 
few sets of hands stroked across the taut marble globes of her perfect, 
petrified ass. Someone tickled her sculpted navel, then rubbed the smooth 
surface of her stone belly. Someone else gently traced their finger around the 
shapes of her stone shoulderblades. Numerous people cupped their hands around 
her frozen breasts. Sara still couldn't tell who was enjoying her rigid body. It 
was thrilling to feel the hands and fingers fondling her motionless stone body, 
enjoying the sexy contours of her petrified figure. She wanted to giggle, but 
could only stand motionless and enjoy the unexpectedly pleasant sensations of 
being a living exhibit. 
    Kurt emerged from the crowd in 
front of her pedestal, looking more relaxed, and winked up at Sara's unchanging 
marble face. This is fantastic, darling, he thought to himself. I don't think 
anybody here has any idea. 
    "Hey, Kurt, man." 
    He turned. It was their friend Janine, a butch-looking 
short-haired blonde in a white t-shirt and a paint-smeared pair of blue 
overalls. Her feet were encased in a big clunky pair of work boots, and she was 
holding her wineglass like it was one of Asterix's dead sparrows. Janine was a 
painter at the university. Kurt liked her a lot -- she was one of those people 
who just don't give a damn. 
    "Hey Janine," he grinned. 
"Nice of you to dress up for the party." 
    "Eat me, Kurt," 
she laughed, taking a long drag on her cigarette followed by a hefty gulp of 
wine. Janine looked over the statue as it stood motionless and glowing in the 
studio spotlights. The lights gleamed on the glossy white stone of Sara's lovely 
face, glistened on her polished stone breasts, made bright crescents on her 
frozen nipples, and highlighted the shapely curves of her slender motionless 
legs. "This is Sara's latest piece, huh? It's fuckin' nice. When did she sculpt 
it? She never mentioned she was working on a self-portrait." 
    Kurt cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, well, she was 
pretty secretive about it. I think she was embarrassed about sculpting herself 
nude, especially in such a, um, sensual pose. She did it out in the garden 
shed." Kurt hoped Janine was buying this. "In fact, she didn't even tell me 
until she was done." Kurt's hand unconsciously moved to hold his girlfriend's 
inflexible marble fingers, stiffly posed as they fluttered with her earlier 
pleasure. He needed the reassurance of her touch, even if it was now the touch 
of a cold stone statue. 
    Janine took a long drag on her 
cigarette, eyeing him through the curling blue smoke. Finally, she nodded and 
swiveled her head to look slowly over the curvaceous marble body of Sara's 
living statue. "It's beautiful. And its so detailed I could almost swear it's 
really Sara," she mused. "But what's up with the pose? Sara never seemed the 
type to do a nude self-portrait at all, much less one this aroused-looking." 
Kurt cleared his throat nervously. Janine knew of he and Sara's statue fetish. 
"If it wasn't so well carved, so sophisticated, this thing would look like a big 
stone sex-toy or something. Jesus." Another drag. "It's the kinda thing only 
Sara can pull off without looking vulgar. She's so fucking talented I hate her." 
    Sara knew she'd be grinning from ear to ear if her lips 
weren't sealed in marble. Janine's bluntness always made her laugh, especially 
when it was aimed at Kurt. And she was delighted that Janine liked her living 
statue, that she approved of the look of her body in stone. She wondered if she 
could talk Janine into becoming a living statue herself, maybe the two of them 
frozen together as an erotic monument... 
    Janine was still 
talking. "It just seems out of character for her to do so sexy of a 
self-portrait. She's such a strong feminist, I can't believe she would want to 
be objectified like this." 
    Objectified? You have no idea, 
Kurt thought to himself, stifling a smile. "Well, you never really know what's 
going on inside someone's head." He glanced up at Sara's frozen marble face, 
then back at Janine. "Right?" 
    "Right," Janine nodded, 
finishing the last gulp of her wine. "Well, I gotta get a refill. Tell Sara how 
much I like the piece when she gets back from New York." 
    
"I'll make sure she knows," Kurt said after her as Janine disappeared into the 
laughing, talking crowd of people. He stroked his fingers lightly over the 
perfect curve of Sara's polished belly, and then disappeared himself. 
    As the evening wore on and bottle after bottle of wine 
was consumed by the party-goers, inhibitions began to disappear. Much of the 
crowd took to ignoring the statue that had been the center of their attention 
for several hours, choosing instead to pair off into couples and dance between 
Sara's pedestal and the tables of refreshments. But it soon became obvious that 
the effects of the drinks were making more than a few people even more 
interested in Sara's statue than before. 
    Sara had drifted 
off into a bemused state of half-attention as the party raged around her. She 
was enjoying her new existence as a marble sculpture so much that she was 
starting to think about how much fun it would be to remain petrified for more 
than just one short evening. Kurt could place her in her studio among her real 
statues for a few days, or perhaps out in their little backyard garden as a lawn 
ornament. Or maybe they could work out a short-term exhibition with one of the 
galleries that handled her work, and she could stand frozen on a pedestal in a 
proper museum for a few weeks. These thoughts filled her with a strange but 
considerable pleasure, a daydream of statueness, until she felt a warm wet 
sensation surround her stony left nipple. 
    Startled back 
to attention, she looked down through her blank white eyes to see that a lithe, 
muscular woman in a short black party dress had wrapped her plump lips around 
her nipple. The woman was furiously teasing her marble nub, her lips suckling 
wetly against the pebbly stone of her carven aureole while her tongue tickled 
the erect stone nub of the nipple itself. Sara felt like a rocket had gone off 
inside her, catapulting her to stratospheric heights of ecstasy at this nameless 
woman's attentions. When the woman wrapped her arms around Sara's slender 
motionless waist and began to run her fingers up and down the sleek muscles 
carven in Sara's back, the ecstasy increased to an almost unbearable level. And 
the woman had no idea she was a living statue! She was simply overcome by her 
petrified beauty! 
    Moments later, Sara watched through a 
haze of pleasure as a handsome brown-haired man stepped from the dancing crowd 
and pressed himself against her statue. The man dropped to his knees and placed 
his mouth against her sculpted groin. Sara wanted to groan at the sensation of 
the man's warm stubbled face rubbing against the cold stone of her inner thighs, 
and then he placed his lips against the carven lips of her petrified sex. He 
teased up and down with his soft lips as though she were still a living woman, 
then finally slipped his tongue as far as he could into the sculpted crevice of 
her statuesque pussy. For long minutes, Sara reveled in incredible pleasure as 
he teased and excited her with his mouth, his lips and tongue exploring the 
marble folds of her petrified sex, while the woman in the black dress continued 
her attentions on her stone breasts. She could not believe that she was being 
made love to -- and so well -- by a pair of perfect strangers, as she stood 
frozen as a living marble statue. She tried to move, to scream out her pleasure 
or wrap her arms around her two anonymous lovers, but she could only stand 
motionless in that same pose as a rigid stone statue. Sara felt this ecstasy 
might drive her mad. 
    The unlikely scene went on for long, 
long minutes. Most of the crowd that jostled and danced around her pedestal was 
oblivious to what was going on, and the few who noticed only laughed nervously 
or drunkenly, a few making enthusiastic catcalls. Sara was only half-aware of 
the reaction of the crowd. Her universe had narrowed to the intense sensations 
of sexual stimulation that this pair of strangers were lavishing on the 
super-sensitive marble flesh of her frozen figure. Her body stood unmoving, 
gleaming and white under the spotlights, as they made love to her rigid marble 
body. Orgasms exploded through her mind like a symphony of roman-candles, the 
bright explosions of pleasure obliterating her consciousness, leaving only an 
awareness of the sensations on her sensitive stone skin and a deep conviction 
that nothing could equal this petrified ecstasy. She wished she could be statue 
forever. 
    Suddenly there was a commotion, a jostling of 
bodies and cries of suprise and outrage as someone forced their way through the 
crowd up to her pedestal. A slightly disheveled-looking Kurt burst from among 
the dancing figures, his jacket rumpled and his tie askew. His face was twisted 
in an expression of jealous outrage. Without a word, he grabbed the man at her 
marble pussy by the shoulders and heaved him backward and away from her statue, 
sending the man sprawling into the surprised party-goers. Then he grabbed the 
woman at her petrified breast, and hauled her away as well, though slightly more 
gently. Despite her disappointment and shock, Sara could only watch as the 
jealous drama played out. 
    "What the hell is going on 
here?" Kurt shouted. "I thought I made it clear that the same rules apply 
tonight as at any gallery or museum -- no one is allowed to touch the artwork! 
Much less make love to it! This is fucking unbelievable! Sara and I are hosting 
an art opening, not an orgy, godammit!" Kurt grabbed the man and the woman 
again, pulling them to their feet and toward the door. The shocked crowd parted 
before him, and within moments the two guests had been thrown out. Kurt dusted 
his hands and turned to face the silent, staring crowd. 
    
"Okay, it's late and I think we've all had a little too much to drink. This 
party is over." There were boos and muttered remarks throughout the crowd. 
"Yeah, I know, I know. I'm sorry, and I'm sorry it had to end with this little 
scene. Apparently, Sara's work is a little too realistic for some people." This 
last comment provoked a chorus of laughter. "Really... I thank you all for 
coming, and for being so complimentary of tonight's work. We'll give you all a 
call when we next have some new works to debut. But for now, goodnight! 
Goodnight!" 
    It was clear that the crowd was disappointed 
but understanding as they gathered their jackets, purses, and coats and made 
their way toward the door. Kurt was charming and apologetic. Sara watched from 
her pedestal while he said goodnight to the guests as they filed out into the 
night. After a few minutes, the apartment was cleared of people. It now seemed 
empty and hollow after the chaos that had filled it this evening. Kurt shut off 
the stereo and collapsed to the couch, loosening his tie. He sighed heavily and 
looked up at Sara's statue. 
    "A successful evening over 
all, I think, Sara. You and I both got to play out our fantasy of putting you on 
display for the public as a statue, and everyone who came tonight left with a 
new respect for your ability to carve portrait statues and a new interest in 
your work." He grinned. "I'll take your silence for agreement, my lovely 
sculpture." 
    Kurt stood with a small groan, and walked 
over to Sara's pedestal. Her petrified body was unchanged from the moment she'd 
been turned to stone so many hours ago. Her eyes were still wide with surprise, 
her lips still frozen in a smile, and her arms and legs remained fixed and 
motionless in the exact same position. Kurt gently traced circles around the 
alabaster pebble of her nipple with his index finger, slowly and teasingly, as 
he looked contemplatively over her glossy white skin. Sara felt her mind again 
reel with the pleasure of his touch, and her own erotic inability to move. She'd 
been stimulated as a statue so many times this night, but the sublime pleasure 
of it had yet to diminish. For long minutes, she felt Kurt explore her marble 
figure -- fondling the white globes of her breasts, rubbing the sleek curve of 
her stomach, gently rubbing the cold stone hemispheres of her taut buttocks, 
running his hands up and down her muscular back and the long elegant shapes of 
her lithe arms and slender legs. Kurt found it strange to be touching her as she 
stood turned into solid stone. The familiar, pleasing contours of her body felt 
exactly as they always had beneath his fingertips, except that they were now 
motionless and sculpted of marble. It was a surreal, erotic experience. He 
kissed her unresponding lips for long minutes, then moved his questing mouth 
down her long neck, over her breasts, down the taut marble belly to her marble 
pussy. He unzipped his trousers and was about to enter her, to consummate their 
stony pleasure, when he discovered with dismay that the stony folds of her sex 
would not part to allow him entrance. 
    He was speechless 
with shock, and then burst into laughter. This was one drawback to Sara's being 
turned to stone that they had not counted on! He laughed and laughed and 
laughed, leaning against the cold surfaces of Sara's torso. 
    Sara watched Kurt disappear into the kitchen, returning 
with the two paper-wrapped bottles that Kristin had given them. He peered at the 
labels, then unwrapped the antidote to the transformation potion. He gently drew 
a droplet of the formula into the eye-dropper in the cap, and returned to stand 
before her statue. 
    "Well, Sara, you make a beautiful 
marble nude, and I think we'd probably both like to keep you frozen and on 
display like this. But I think there's something both of us want to do even more 
than that." 
    "Prepare to draw your first breath of life, 
fair Galatea!" Kurt grinned. He let the fluid drop onto the polished marble 
curve of one of her breasts. 
    As before, the droplet was 
instantly absorbed. Sara felt a sudden flush of warmth spread outward from where 
the fluid had touched her breast. The warmth was comforting and pleasing, and as 
it spread outward the tingling sensation of transformation again suffused her 
body. She watched as the glossy white hue of marble faded from her skin, her 
flesh darkening slightly to a grayish color and then gaining the honey-gold 
color of her tanned living skin. She watched Kurt's eyes widen as he witnessed 
her transformation, and then he stepped close to touch her. 
    As he touched Sara's golden flesh, she still felt as hard 
and cold as stone. Her hair was again a deep auburn, and had changed from a 
solid wavy mass back into a waterfall of individual reddish-brown strands. Her 
delicate pubic hairs were similarly changed, as was her eyelashs and eyelids. 
The fine downy hairs on her forearms and the nape of her neck were no longer 
delicate ridges in her marble body. Her smooth skin was once again a golden tan, 
her nails were pink and white, and her wide eyes were no longer blank white orbs 
but again possessed liquid brown irises and dark pupils. She looked alive, but 
was as frozen as before. Her skin was rock-hard and cold to the touch, and when 
he attempted to shift the position of her arms or even her fingers, he 
discovered that she was as rigid as when she'd been solid stone. Her eyes stared 
fixed and glassy in the same direction they had all night, her face remained 
unmoving in that same surprised smile, and not even her auburn strands of hair 
shifted in the slight breeze of the room. It was as if she was now a plastic 
mannequin, or one of those ultra-realistic painted statues he'd seen in some of 
Sara's art books. 
    "Sara?" he whispered, stepping back 
from her pedestal. She didn't respond, and Kurt felt a chill of rising horror 
shiver up his spine. "Sara? Can you hear me?" 
    For long 
moments, Sara remained frozen. Then finally her fingers fluttered at her sides. 
She opened her long-smiling lips and gave a long, shuddering moan. Her wide eyes 
blinked rapidly, then looked around the room, at Kurt, and finally down at her 
again-living body. She relaxed from her statuesque pose and drew a ragged 
breath. "I'm... I'm me again..." 
    Kurt stepped up to her 
pedestal, encircled her soft waist, and helped her step down onto the floor. 
"You certainly are, but I was a little worried for a minute there. How was it?" 
    "W-Wonderful..." She smiled, looking a little sheepish. 
"Everything I dreamed, and more. Incredible." 
    Kurt smiled 
and kissed her long and passionately on her rosy lips, once again soft and 
responsive flesh. Sara returned his kiss with passion, her hands slipping inside 
his shirt as she felt his arms embrace her warm body. Kurt picked her up and 
carried her back into their bedroom, where they made love for several hours. It 
was the best sex they'd ever had. Afterwards, Kurt fetched some red wine from 
the refrigerator, and they basked in the afterglow, excitedly discussing the 
night's events. Finally their conversation turned to the future. 
    "Well, as much as I loved being a statue," Sara purred, 
"we agreed we'd take turns with Kristin's potion." 
    "I 
don't mind giving up my turn to see you on a pedestal again," Kurt smiled. 
    "Oh no, I don't want that!" Sara exclaimed. 
    "And why not? Do you have something particular in mind, 
my marble maiden?" 
    "Mm-hmm," Sara said, running her 
slender fingers through the hair on Kurt's chest, looking deep into his eyes. 
"I've always wanted to see what you would look like as Michelangelo's 
'David'...."