“Staying late after school,” I muttered. “Makes me feel like a little kid again. What do you suppose Mister Livingstone wants us for anyway?”
“Maybe he just wants to give us some...special tuition?” said Elizabeth huskily
“Wouldn’t that be against College rules?” I said. “Anyway, I kind of got the impression he was gay or celibate or something. All those gorgeous girls in his class,” (and that certainly included Elizabeth herself), “and he hardly seems to notice any of them.”
Elizabeth chuckled. “If you’d seen him at the Museum last week you wouldn't say that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I happened to be in there last week doing some research for my Greek History paper and I happened to spot Livingstone in the Sculpture department. I’m telling you, Vicky, the way he was ogling those female nudes you’d think he wanted to take them to bed with him.”
I sighed. “Lucky stiffs. Almost makes me wish I was a statue so he’d notice me once in a while.”
Elizabeth favoured me with an enigmatic smile. Over the months I’d known her I had come to recognise that expression. It generally meant she was up to something.
“What?” I said. “What’s on your devious little mind this time?”
“Oh, nothing,” she replied. It’s just that...well, I was just thinking, you would look pretty good as a statue.”
“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” I told her.
She leaned a little closer to me.
“What’s so ridiculous about it?” she said. “I can just see you standing naked on a pedestal. Why not? You’ve got a terrific body.”
“If either of us should pose for a statue,” I said, “It’s you. Compared to you...well, there is no comparison. You’re gorgeous, and I’m just...”
“Hey! Don’t put yourself down, Vicky. You know, I’ve always thought you were one of the sexiest women on the whole campus.”
I was about to tell her that she was crazy when she shut me up with a kiss. It wasn’t exactly what you’d call a sisterly kiss either.
“Hey,” I said (eventually), “You can’t...”
But she did. Again.
When I finally came up for air I realised that Elizabeth was unbuttoning my blouse.
“Hey, stop,” I said. “A joke’s a joke and you’ve had your fun, but we can’t....”
And then she stopped my mouth again. And as my blouse fell to the floor I realised that I’d said “we” and not “you”.
Even when she’d somehow managed to strip me down to my socks and shoes while undressing herself at the same time, I couldn’t believe she wanted to go all the way.
“Come on, Vicky,” she breathed. “Don’t hold back.”
“This is crazy,” I said. “What if someone sees us? What if Livingstone were to walk in here? We could both be expelled, or even arrested for gross indecency--”
Elizabeth laughed. “Oh, Vicks, I haven’t even started on indecency yet. And as for gross...well, that’s for later!”
Then she began to stroke me where it counted, and I had no choice but to stroke her right back, so I couldn’t voice any further objections, even if I’d still wanted to.
When I finally came it was the most incredible sensation. Nobody had ever made me feel so good. Or for so long.
For a while I couldn’t do anything but lie there in a kind of trance while Elizabeth treated me to a little afterplay.
“You know, that navel ring of yours is kinda cute,” she told me. “Don’t know why I never noticed it before.”
“Oh,” I muttered, “ to tell the truth, I don’t show it off much. I only had it put in for a dare, and now...I guess I’m a bit shy about it.”
“Well, you shouldn’t be. Like I said, it’s cute. It is a bit plain, though, but I think I can fix that.”
“What do you mean?”
In answer to my question, Elizabeth rummaged through her pile of discarded clothing and brought out a small glowing gem attached to a tiny ring.
“What’s that?” I muttered.
“An agalmatrope,” she said. “It’s a new type of synthetic diamond. I think it would go perfectly with your ring. Stand up and I’ll just clip it on.”
I was still a little woozy, so it didn’t immediately occur to me to wonder why Elizabeth was carrying a jewel on her, or why she had suddenly decided to offer it to me. I just let her help me to my feet - I was still naked except for my shoes and socks - and then she knelt down and clipped the jewel onto my navel ring.
“There,” she said. “That looks very nice. Now all I have to do is turn it on.”
Before I could ask her what she meant I heard a small click and my belly button began to tingle.
“All right,” said Elizabeth, as she stood up and took a couple of steps backward. “Now the process has begun and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.”
I didn’t know what she meant, but the sight of her standing there naked was making me horny again. I wanted to leap into her arms and fuck her senseless...but instead, my arms fell to my sides and I found myself standing bolt upright. Elizabeth meanwhile had begun to stroke herself. Apparently she didn’t want my help after all.
I wanted to step forward and shake her, demand to know what the hell was going on...but I couldn’t. My arms and legs stayed right where they were, and I couldn’t make a sound. I was paralysed!
And all the while the tingling in my navel just got stronger and stronger...only it wasn’t in my navel any more. It had migrated south.
The jewel! I thought. The agalmatrope! That’s what’s doing this! Elizabeth did this to me deliberately!
And Elizabeth just kept on stroking herself, which was making me horny....
And I couldn’t move, and somehow that was also making me horny....
And I was trying to fight the paralysis, and that was making me horny....
And I didn’t know what Elizabeth was going to do to me while I was helpless, and that was making me horny....
And if I managed to free myself, I didn’t know whether I’d kill Elizabeth or fuck her, and that was making me horny....
And I was trying to think about something, anything at all, that wouldn’t make me horny... but even that only made me even hornier...!
And then I heard the door open behind me. I couldn’t turn to see who was there (and that was making me horny), but Elizabeth broke off what she was doing and sighed, “Ah...Mister Livingstone, I presume.”
Oh, no! Here I was, naked and helpless, and my college professor could see me! I was on the verge of an orgasm and dying of embarrassment at the same time. It was a weird sensation.
“Ah, Elizabeth,” he said, in that charmingly clipped Bostonian accent of his. “I see that you have carried out the process on Victoria, and it looks as if it works perfectly. Well done.” Livingstone walked around me, inspecting my body from every conceivable angle while I could only stand and watch. Then a thought seemed to occur to him.
“Wait here a minute, Victoria,” he said. (He was the only person who ever called me by me full name.) “I know you’re probably wondering what this is all about, but it won’t take me a moment to show you.”
Elizabeth watched him go. “Isn’t he marvellous?” she sighed. “He’s the one who invented the agalmatrope, you know. He says it could have a thousand medical uses, like stopping wounded patients’ metabolisms so they don’t die before they can be treated. He says they might even use agalmatropes for space exploration one day instead of having to use cryogenics. Isn’t that great? He may even get the Nobel Prize for this.”
For what? I thought. Freezing me at the brink of an orgasm that never arrives?!
Then I heard a squeaking noise accompanied by footsteps, which turned out to be Mister Livingstone returning with a four-foot wide, full-length mirror on squeaky castors. He must have found it in one of the storerooms, although just what the college needed it for, I couldn’t have guessed.
Then he placed the mirror in front of me. Elizabeth stood beside me and felt me up a little while we admired my reflection together.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Apart from the glowing jewel, my reflection was pale grey, lined with a few darker veins.
No wonder I couldn’t move!
I’d turned to stone!
The sight of my stone reflection was the most erotic thing I had ever seen. As I stared at it, the tingling in my navel slid all the way down to my clitoris, and I came...and came...and came...and came...and CAME...and CAME...and.......
(Wait a minute! If my muscles had turned to stone, how could I still be having orgasms? For that matter, if my eyes were made of stone, how could I still see? And to cap it all, if my brain had been turned to stone...! Well: I couldn’t think about it just then, and when I could I was never able to figure out an explanation. I’m sure Mister Livingstone could have explained it easily enough, but he never did.)
It was a long while before I was able to see or hear clearly again, and when I did the first thing I saw was the reflection of Mister Livingstone lying naked on top of Elizabeth.
The funny thing about Mister Livingstone was, I had never really thought of him as having a naked body beneath his clothes. He was one of those people you imagine having been born wearing a suit and tie. Just goes to show how wrong you can be. I mean, the man was gorgeous. Just looking at his heaving buttocks was making me horny again.
Who was I kidding? As long as I was wearing the agalmatrope, everything I saw was making me horny!
At least I’d established one thing: he wasn’t gay. He certainly did know how to please a woman, if Elizabeth’s wails of pleasure were anything to go by. I was surprised nobody had heard them. But I couldn’t help noticing that every so often he would cast a sly glance at my reflection, and I remembered what Elizabeth had told me about seeing him eyeing up the statues in the museum.
Could it really be true that he was more interested in statues than flesh-and-blood women? But if that was true, then what did he want with Elizabeth?
It was then that I happened to notice a short length of fine gold chain emerging from the pocket of his jacket where it lay discarded on the floor. I had a feeling I knew exactly what it was, and what he was going to do with it.
My suspicions seemed to be confirmed a few moments later when Livingstone told her, “Hold on a minute, Elizabeth. I need to take a breather.”
“Oh, but you’ve hardly started yet,” she complained.
“Don’t worry”, he told her, leaning back and feeling surreptitiously in his jacket. “Once I’ve got my second wind there’s no stopping me.”
Success! His hand closed around the gold chain, and with the skill of a master conjurer he lifted the rest of the chain from the jacket pocket and slipped it into his palm without Elizabeth noticing.
My suspicions were correct. Another agalmatrope was attached to the chain. And there was nothing I could do to stop him from using it on Elizabeth!
Wait a minute!
In other words, there was nothing I could do to prevent him from doing to her what she had done to me!
Talk about poetic justice!
“All right,” he said, “I’m ready now, whether or not you are!”
He slipped his arms around her waist....
.... And slipped the chain around with them, fastening it at the back. Then he stepped back as the agalmatrope began to glow, and a look of astonishment spread across Elizabeth’s face.
“What...what have you...done to...me?” she cried.
“Command: stand,” he said quietly, helping her up. “Command: walk three paces left. That’s it, Elizabeth. Stand here beside your pretty friend and watch your reflection with her. Observe how swiftly and efficiently my new improved agalmatrope works. Command: petrify.”
“Wait,” said Elizabeth. “You...told me...she was going...to be the...guinea pig!” She was struggling to move, but her arms and legs were stiffening as the agalmatrope flared into incandescence. The sight was making me hornier than hell all over (and I do mean all over) again.
Serve you right Liz, I thought. Now you know how it feels!
“You said...we’d share...the re...wards!” cried Elizabeth. Her flesh was already turning to stone, its veined grey texture slowly spreading across her torso (was that how it looked on me? Wow! If only I could have seen myself changing colour like that!), while her voice became increasingly laboured.
“You never...said any...thing... a...bout... uu...siiiing... meeeeeee... toooooooooooooooooooo......!!!!!!!!!”
And then I watched as she froze solid with a wonderful expression of surprise frozen on her face, and I ...C...A...M...E... non-stop for what felt like hours. I guess she did too. Then Mr. L. joined in, fondling our stone bodies while he jerked off for hours.
It was after dark by the time he finally got dressed, walked out of the classroom taking the mirror with him, and returned a few minutes later with a wooden chest on a trolley. Either he was a lot stronger than he looked, or we were a lot lighter than real stone, because he soon had us neatly packed inside it, and I felt him wheeling us out into the parking area. I guess he must have brought a van that day instead of his car.
And then he drove us home.
Mister Livingstone has a very nice house in one of the upper-middle parts of town. The conservatory is full to the rafters with tropical plants. In fact it looks so much like a real jungle that I sometimes expect to see a guy in a loincloth (or preferably, not in a loincloth) come swinging through the vines.
Elizabeth and I stand facing each other on opposite sides of the main aisle, as we have done for what I guess must be several years now. It’s a little difficult to keep track of the time when you can hardly ever stop coming. There are others here too, at least twelve more on Elizabeth’s side of the aisle and maybe as many on mine - of course, I can’t turn my head to count them. Call it two dozen of Mister Livingstone’s female guinea pigs. (And no male ones. Conclusive proof that he’s not gay.)
Did the authorities ever come looking for us? I sometimes ask myself. What about all our friends and families? Surely the fact that we all vanished from Mister Livingstone’s class is an obvious clue. Maybe he has some way of making people forget about us, of wiping memories, computer files...but what about diaries, videos, family photos? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions. All I’m certain of is that after all this time no one will ever find us. This is the only life we can ever expect now.
The other day he came into the conservatory and said, “I have some news that might interest you ladies. I’m pleased to announce that NASA has carried out the first successful astronaut trials of my agalmatrope-based space hibernation system. They estimate that the first permanent Martian base could be in operation within five to ten years.”
Smiling contentedly, he walked along the aisle, caressing each of us in turn. “Who knows?” he said. “Within a few decades there could be cities on other planets. And what does this have to do with you girls, you might ask?” He grinned. “Well, people will always want objets d’art to brighten up their living quarters. Like Victoria here, my first successful human test subject.” And with that, he slipped an arm around my waist and kissed me on the lips, and I CAME for what must have been the millionth time.
“Just think, girls,” he told us. “Before long, you may be the first ever statues on Mars!”
From Dawn, 20 June 2001
I LOVED THE STORY IT GOT ME SO WET AND I CAME SEVERAL TIMES.