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 No.19877

More to come :-)

Pt 1

“Um, Sir?” The nervous young secretary opened the door to Bova Polkan’s office. Russia’s most successful avant garde artist, the popular and charismatic billionaire has come to Great Britain to create what promised to be his greatest work of art - “Polkan’s Paradise of Pleasures”, a sculpture garden dedicated to the beauty of youth and all the pleasures of life. What made his particular project unique among other such installations was the process by which his sculptures were created.

“What is it?” Polkan looked up from the brochure on his desk – a proof copy sent by the printers for the promotional material he planned to send out to potential investors and contributors. “I’m rather busy.”

“Mrs Lomax is here and she wants to speak to you.” Polkan sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Can you tell her I’m in a meeting or something?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes comically at the young secretary, putting her a little more at her ease. “I really don’t feel like dealing with her today!”

“I don’t know.” The secretary made an anxious face. “She seems pretty pissed!”

“Well tell her…” but the secretary never got to hear what her employer wanted her to tell the angry woman as, at that moment, Karen Lomax stormed past her, shoving her out of the way so firmly that she would have ended up on the floor if the large potted plant had not been there to break her fall.

“What the fuck is that monstrosity?!” Karen slammed her hands, palms down, so hard on Polkan’s desk that his pens and coffee mugs rattled.

“Hello, Mrs Lomax.” Polkan leaned back in his chair and smiled politely. “How delightful to see you again. What can I do for you?”

“You can explain why you turned my beautiful babies into that… that THING out there!”

“You don’t like the new exhibit?” Polkan asked innocently. “It’s proving very popular. From what I can see online it’s quickly becoming one of the most photographed installations in the garden and everyone seems to respond very positively towards it.” He tried his best not to smirk at the increasing fury on the woman’s red face. “People seem to think it really captures the positive side of life with siblings!”

“I gave you my babies in good faith!” the woman screamed in his face, treating him to a shower of spittle as she did so. “And you turn them into THAT!”

“You sold me your children for a good price.” Polkan reminded her. “And I did tell you in advance the name of the piece.”

“You told me it would be called ‘The Joy of Siblings’!”

“As indeed it is. Are you telling me they don’t appear joyful?”

“How could you force my innocent babies to participate in that… that FILTH?!”

“Mrs Lomax.” Polkan leant forward, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. “You have witness the process by which my statues are created. You know that your children needed to hold that pose for up to four minutes. Do you really think they would have been able to do so if they were not happy with it? If they were not enjoying themselves?”

“You turned my babies into pornography!”

“Your children and I collaborated to create art.” He reminded her, firmly. “Art which is proving very popular with the public. You should be very proud of them.” Neither spoke for a few moments. Eventually, Karen Lomax realised that her glare which had reduced so many sales assistants and their managers to quivering jelly was not going to have any effect on this Russian artist.

“Fine!” She stood up straight, trying to salvage a little of her dignity in the face of this defeat. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

“I shall look forward to it.” Polkan smiled sweetly. “I’m sure someone with his or her professional interests will admire how iron-clad your our contract it. Good day, Mrs Lomax.” Karen seemed for a moment as if she was attempting to shoot lasers from her eyes to obliterate Polkan but, after a few tense seconds, she huffed, turned on her heel and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her so hard the glass rattled.

“Mel, can you come in here a moment, please?” Polkan spoke into the intercom. The young secretary stuck her head round the door nervously again. “I could use a coffee.” Polkan took out his wallet and handed her a fairly large note. “I think I need one after dealing with her. Get one for yourself too, and a snack if you want one, oh and Mel?” She took the note and smiled at him gratefully, he was certainly not a bad person to be working for, “No hurry. Take your time.”

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

“Thank you for coming by, Mrs Lomax.” Bova Polkan smiled, welcoming the tall, smartly-dressed woman into his office. “As you can see, my garden is still very much a work in progress but the public response so far has been very positive.”

“Oh yes!” Mrs Lomax gushed, “I saw two or three of your sculptures on the way in and I must say that they were stunning. After I read about your project I just knew that my babies would be perfect for you.” Polkan sat down behind his desk and invited her to take a seat. “I enrolled them all in drama and dance classes from the age of four so they’re all in great physical shape and natural performers!”

“I’m sure they are.” Polkan smiled. “Obviously we have lots of applicants for this very unique form of immortality but I’m always excited to hear from new contenders and I think I have just the project in mind for your children. Did you bring the photographs I asked for?”

“I certainly did!” Karen Lomax proudly pulled a large manilla envelope from her purse and handed it to him. Inside were five A4 glossy prints, three of which were close-ups of her children’s faces and the remaining two showed the three siblings lined up naked against an outside wall, front and back views. On the back of the head-shots were the names, ages and some general stats about the children.

Polkan browsed the head-shots then paid particular interest to the full-body nudes as these would give him the best idea of what he might be working with. The children were stood in relaxed poses and all flashing well-practised smiles at the camera.

In the middle was a girl of twelve with long dark hair, trim figure and just the first hint of breasts protruding proudly from her chest. She stood with one hand by her side and the other on her hip which had a distinctly feminine curve. A small patch of dark pubic hair adorned her mound but otherwise her genitalia still looked like that of a little girl.

To her right stood a boy of fourteen. His hair was dark like his sisters but curly, with a certain cultivated unruliness which made him look as if he belonged in a boy-band. He was reasonably well-endowed for his age and sported far more hair than his sister but it had not yet spread to the rest of his body. his figure was toned like a dancer. He was stood with his hands behind his back, looking a little shy but generally relaxed.

On the left was the smallest sibling – a girl of eight. Her hair was lighter than the older two, closer to that of her mother’s dirty blonde. She was grinning broadly at the camera, hands by her side and flat chest thrust forwards. No signs of puberty were yet evident on her body which, like her siblings’ , was toned and athletic. Polkan took a brief glance at the rear view picture but it was much as he expected.

“You have a very beautiful family!” Polkan smiled warmly. “I’m sure I can create a truly stunning work with them! Are you familiar with my process?”

“I am.” Karen nodded. “I read your article.”

“Ah, splendid!” Polkan slipped the photographs into the top left-hand drawer of his desk. “And your children also understand how my sculptures are created?”

“They do!” Karen assured him. “They think it sounds like fun!”

“Well that’s marvellous!” Polkan slid his chair back and stood up. “I actually have three new works in production this morning, all at different stages. Perhaps you would like to come and see so you can witness the whole process for yourself?”

Mrs Lomax happily agreed and Polkan led her out of the office and through the park towards the studio where the works were created. Along the way, he pointed out a few of his favourite works.

“This one is called the Joy of Surprises.” He pointed to a bronze sculpture of a naked little girl, around four or five years old, kneeling in front of a newly-opened gift box and squealing in delight at what was inside.

“But the box is empty?” Karen observed, peering in with curiosity. “What was the surprise supposed to be?”

“That’s rather the point.” explained Polkan. “The idea is that the viewer looks at the delight on her face and imagines whatever gift would provoke such feelings in them. Perhaps it is a puppy? Or a special toy? Or maybe just a photo of a loved-one they’ve not seen in a very long time. It’s all down to interpretation.” They walked a little further, past other statues, until they saw one depicting a young couple, maybe fifteen years old, sharing a passionate kiss. The girl’s hand had a firm grip on the boy’s erect penis. “This one is called the Joy of Love.” Polkan informed his guest. “It works on two levels because the pair are clearly lovers yet my subjects were actually twin siblings so it depicts at least two kinds of love at once. Ah!” He smiled as they reached the studio that, from the outside, looked like a rustic barn. “Here we are, where the magic happens!”

A sign on the door indicated that this building was not open to the public and the door was firmly locked. This was no issue for Polkan, of course. He tapped the lock code into the combination pad beside the door and a metallic click indicated that the door was unlocked. He pushed it open and ushered his guest inside.

Although she had not been entirely sure what to expect from a studio where such unconventional sculptures were created, Karen Lomax was certain it had not been this! The inside of the rustic barn more closely resembled a car factory with large vats and industrial machinery. The workers all wore high-vis vests and protective eyewear.

“Oh hey, Mr Polkan!” A man carrying a clipboard who Karen took to be the foreman waved as they came in. “I was just about to call you and ask you to come down. The subjects are ready to pose The Joy of Reading.”

“Ah splendid!” Polkan clasped his hands together in genuine delight. “How’s the Joy of Friendship coming along?”

“Fired and being cleaned, sir.” The foreman reported. “Another ten minutes or so and we should be ready to cast. The Joy of Togetherness is being polished at the moment if you wanted to see it?”

“Oh yes, that would be great!” Polkan smiled. “Mrs Lomax here is considering selling me her three lovely children so I’ve invited her to see the whole process. Let the subjects know I’m here, would you please?”

“Sure thing, Sir.” The Foreman nodded and spoke into his radio.

“Well Mrs Lomax, it looks as if you’re about to get a sneak preview of one of my newest works!” He led her past a rack of wooden discs, tapered at the edges, varying in size from two to five feet across, to the corner where two workers, a man and a woman, were carefully polishing a bronze sculpture depicting two girls around ten years old, naked apart from the flowers in their hair, holding hands with their heads turned to face each other and posed as if they were skipping. The scene brought to mind happy childhood frolics idyllic meadows. Although they were both cast in identical bronze, Mrs Lomax was fairly sure from the girls’ hair and features that one had been black and the other Caucasian.

“It’s very beautiful!” She gushed. “So sweet! What is the one you’re going to be starting today?”

“Bova!” A door opened and two young girls, aged around ten and six, rushed out from a side-room and practically drowned Polkan with hugs and cuddles.

“Hey girls!” He knelt down to kiss each of the affectionately on the cheek. “Are we all ready to make some beautiful art?” Both girls were naked, of course, like all the sculpture subjects. The ten year old had the body and poise of a ballet dancer, with long, straight black hair which was tied back in a pony-tail reaching almost to her bottom and topped with a big, floppy blue bow. Her chest was flat apart from two marble-sized buds behind her pink nipples and she had no body hair. The smaller girl was appealingly chubby and her lighter hair was tied in bunches either side of her head. In response to the question, they both nodded enthusiastically and made the kind of excited squeals only prepubescent girls can make!

“Let’s go get the set ready, shall we?” Polkan suggested and, with an arm around each girl’s shoulders, guided them to a metal platform surrounded on three sides with thick glass sheets mounted in corner posts. Mrs Lomax followed, curious to see how the start of the process worked.

The workers brought out one of the larger wooden discs and placed in on the metal floor to form the base of the finished sculpture. They then set a very picturesque tree stump slightly to the right. Karen expected to see the girls mount the platform then and there and assume their poses but first a worker came over with what looked like a plastic barrel in one hand and the rounded head of a thin hose in the other.

“Okay, who’s first?” The man asked with an affable smile.

“I will!” The older girl put up her hand before stepping forwards.

“Okay, tilt your head back for me as far as it will go,” the man instructed, “and open your mouth.” The girl did as she was told and the man started to feed the hose down her throat. She gagged and spluttered a little but Polkan stood behind her, giving her shoulders a comforting massage, and she managed to tolerate it being pushed a little further. Once it was in, the worker pushed a button on the barrel.

“What’s going on?” Mrs Lomax asked.

“It’s actually a technique used by deep-sea divers.” Polkan explained, “Her lungs are being filled with oxygenated gel so she can go up to fifteen minutes without breathing. Stops the subjects’ faces distorting before the plaster dries as the body tends to go into auto-pilot if starved of oxygen. It was an issue we found with some of our early test-runs. Mrs Lomax nodded. The explanation made perfect sense. Once the first girl’s lungs were filled, her younger co-star received the same treatment. The smaller girl found it a little harder to take the hose down her oesophagus but she managed and soon she too was prepared.

“Right!” Polkan grinned, “Time to get started!”

 No.19878

Excelent!

 No.19880

>>19877
You are off to a great start. It's a shame you ditched the nasal tubes for the perfluorocarbon derivative. They were a practical solution to the respiratory problem, doubled as gas discharge channels for the metal pouring, and would have allowed for the children to voice their distress while inside the kiln. Well, let's see how this develops.

 No.19881

>>19880
I did consider it but it felt like an extra practicality I had to account for lol. I'm working on "Daddy's Birthday Treat" at the moment :-)

 No.19882

Oh, this Polkan speaks English much better then the real one. But I loved it so!!!!

It took years to Bernini to finish his masterpieces. But we are not living in the dark 16-17 centuries. Using our 21 century technologies we can preserve the beauty of youth in minutes and for tens thousands of years.
Ok. The kids die at the process. But as they die they are happy. They don't really understand the meaning of death, they just very happy to feel the sensation by doing something both attractive and important. And of cause, all kids love to be at the centre of public attention. And not for a minutes, but for endless. So their parents. But the parents need some backup to be sure they decision is right. So we pay them. Of cause, they are not glad discover they loved kids are preserved in very vulgar positions. But sometimes we need and love to do with their kids stoned pornography for the public attraction. There is no fun and very boring to only the classic style masterpieces.

 No.19883

>>19882
Aww I'm so glad! I did think about trying to make him speak like someone who doesn't have English as a first language but I didn't want it to sound like charicature. Plus if he's an internationally famous artist living in the UK I figured his English would be good! Hehe

 No.19890

Pt 2

“Okay, girls.” Polkan smiled. “Pop up onto the stage like we practised.” As the girls gleefully stepped up onto the wooden platform, the artist turned to his guest. “I call it a stage,” he explained, “to help my subjects understand that what we’re creating here is a kind of performance. Their finished sculptures should not seem passive like a posed painting or photograph but rather a moment of time frozen forever. Are you familiar with the ruins of Pompei?” he asked.

“I’ve seen pictures.” Mrs Lomax replied, “And I think there was as bit about them on television once.”

“Hundreds of people,” Polkan told her, “men, woman and children all captured in the moment of their deaths. A petrified snapshot of their every day life. Such was the violence and suddenness of the eruption that many of them had no idea they were about to die and we can still see them now, preserved in whatever activities they were engaged in. That’s the feeling I wanted to capture. A moment frozen in time. Static, certainly, but with the suggestion of movement and, most importantly of all, life! Now, please excuse me for a moment. This is my most important duty!”

Polkan left Mrs Lomax to watch as he stepped up onto the platform to help pose the girls as they would be preserved. They both seemed to know what was expected of them, having practised the tableaux with the artist several times over the past two days. The younger girl sat on the stump, her feet dangling and not quite touching the floor while the older girl stood beside her, one hand on her shoulder, her slender legs in a slightly balletic pose. Polkan gave the smaller girl a large hardback picture book to hold open close to her lap as if she was reading and the older girl was given a small hardback book that could be held in one hand. Both girls posed as if reading.

“Perfect!” Polkan stood back to admire his composition. “Okay, I think we’re ready!” He gave a sign to the foreman who spoke into his radio again. Two worker came forward carrying a sheet of perspex that they locked into position at the front of the “stage” so that the girls were now completely sealed in. Two large tanks were slid into place either side of the top of the perspex chamber with a chute leading from each one.

“Okay girls,” he grinned at them through the perspex, “next time I see you, you will be perfectly cast in beautiful bronze, your beauty preserved forever!” The girls gave a cheery wave and broad grin before returning to their poses. The foreman came forward and handed a remote control with two large buttons on to Polkan. “I like to do this bit myself.” He explained to Mrs Lomax. “Helps me feel a more active part of the process. Right, girls!” He called loudly. “Here it comes. Remember to stay perfectly still. Good luck, and thank you!”

He pushed the button and thick white liquid began to gush into the tank, filling it up from the bottom. There was maybe a flicker of nervousness in the girls’ eyes as the liquid rose higher and higher around them but they did not break their pose. As the liquid continued to rise, the smaller girl was completely submerged. A few moments later, her taller friend was gone too. When the liquid reached the top of the tank, Polkan pressed the button to end the flow.

“We use a specially blended plaster-like substance,” Polkan explained to his guest. “In three to four minutes it will dry solid, at which point it can be placed in the kiln and fired. This fixes the mould and also burns away the organic matter.”

“Organic matter?” Karen Lomax asked. “By which you mean the girls?”

“The girls, the wood, the books, everything like that.” Polkan explained as casually as if he were describing the process of sealing a finished watercolour painting rather than discussing the burning alive of two young girls, reducing their beautiful young bodies to ash.

“I see.” Karen nodded. “What happens after that?”

“Well you’re in luck!” Polkan grinned at her, because we have another work that was fired this morning ready for the next stage. I’d be happy to show you!”

“Oh, please!” Karen smiled, wondering if her own children would be as cooperative as the two charming girls she had just seen entombed. Polkan led her along the line of machinery to where a huge white block, very similar the one she had just seen created, stood in some kind of hydraulic rig, clamped on either side.

“Once the firing is complete,” the artist explained, “which takes around three hours, the block is lifted allowing the ash to fall out. We then use high-pressure air-hoses to clean out any remnants then use this rig to turn it upside down.” The foreman brought him another remote and Polkan pointed out a large vat from which a heat-haze was rising, positioned centrally above the block. “That’s liquid bronze.” He explained, before pressing the button which caused the vat to tip forward. Mrs Lomax watched in fascination as the red-hot, lava-like liquid poured down into the waiting mould. She remembered that the foreman had earlier referred to this work as ‘The Joy of Friendship’ and wondered what the composition would be.

“How long does it take to cool?” She asked, curiously.

“Not very long at all, honestly.” Polkan replied with a smile. “Once the bronze is removed from the heat source it hardens in a matter of minutes. Then we flip the block around right side up again and break off the mould which the heat of firing renders solid but brittle. Then all that remains is to polish it up like you saw my colleagues doing earlier.” Already the mould was full. The molten bronze stopped falling and the vat returned to an upright position.

“You know,” Polkan made conversation to pass the few minutes until the statue could be revealed. This was always the most tense time in the process and he was as eager to see the result as his guest was. “I’m actually working on a more portable form of this process that doesn’t require so much equipment. Of course it’s always going to be best to do it this way and I think this will always be the only way to produce the bronze statues but if a school or even a family wanted a single girl or boy, or maybe a pair if they were small or posed very close together, then I think it will soon be possible to go out to their location and leave them with a cold-cast resin statue.”

“Ah, that’s very interesting!” Mrs Lomax was genuinely intrigued. “Do you think there will be a lot of call for it?”

“We’ve been getting enquiries since we opened.” Polkan smiled. “People asking if we can create statues with their children that they can then take home with them to display in the garden or on the driveway. We’ve not done anything like that so far but it got me thinking and maybe in the future it will be a service that we can offer.” The foreman approached and informed them that the bronze was cooled. “Fantastic!” Polkan rubbed his hands together in glee. “Flip it over and let’s see what we have!”

The hydraulics of the giant framework hissed into action, lifting the large white block off the ground before slowly spinning it 180 degrees before setting it back down. There was a metallic clunk as the blackened bronze base hit the steel surface below. The hands of the vice were then withdrawn leaving the block standing alone like a squat monolith.

“Shall we see what we have?” Polkan asked, as excited as a small child at Christmas. He approached the block and took the conventional chisel and mallet that were handed to him. He made the first chip and a large block of the plaster-like substance fell away, crumbling as it hit the floor. Once the artist had made the symbolic first chip, he stepped back and allowed the team of assistants wearing overalls and face-masks to avoid breathing in the chalky dust stepped in to complete the job. As Polkan and Mrs Lomax watched, the statue was revealed.

The Joy of Friendship depicted two young boys, maybe nine or ten years old, climbing a tree. One was already sat on a sturdy branch and was reaching down a hand to help his friend up. Mrs Lomax was impressed with the staging as, although one of the second boy’s feet was clearly on the floor, the impression was given that they were both very high up, near the top of the tree.

“Perfect!” Polkan exclaimed. “I’d been worried whether or not Callum, the boy on the branch, had managed to stay still but it looks like he did. This will make a very fine addition to the garden once it’s been cleaned up and polished.” He stood and admired his latest work for a few minutes, basking in the sense of pride he always felt when seeing one of his compositions realised.

“So,” he turned to Mrs Lomax, “now that you’ve seen the whole process, start to finish, although not exactly in that order, do you still wish to sell me your children?”

“Oh yes!” Karen exclaimed, “I am sure they will make a very beautiful addition to your catalogue!”

“I am sure they will too!” Polkan smiled, very pleased, “Please come back to the office with me then we will get the paperwork sorted. I already have a composition in mind that they will be perfect for. I call it the Joy of Siblings.”

“That sounds perfectly charming!” Karen smiled proudly, “And perfect for my babies. I can’t wait to see it!”

 No.19893

Brilliant!!! Amassing!!!

Why I read it before going to sleep? I'm too horny now for sleeping

 No.19894

>>19893
I'm sure you can… umm… lend yourself a hand? ;-) Very glad you're enjoying it!

 No.19916

Pt 3

Ten days later, Mrs Lomax arrived back at Polkan’s office, this time with her three children in tow. He welcomed them in as warmly as he had before and invited them all to sit while he gathered together the necessary paperwork. While they were waiting, Mel, the secretary, provided them with drinks – Cokes for the young potential models and a latte for their mother.

“So!” Polkan sat down at his desk, facing the four visitors who sat opposite sipping their drinks. Mrs Lomax was sitting primly, looking smugly confident. The older boy and girl seemed a little nervous, slightly on edge, but their younger sister grinned brightly, excited by the outing and the prospect of the kind of fame modelling for one of Polkan’s statues would bring. She was also rather excited by the idea of being immortalised naked so that art-lovers and the curious for generations to come would be able to admire her cute young body. Of the three of them, she had been the most eager to strip off for the requested photos while her older siblings had treated it as a necessary inconvenience to be endured.

“Thank you so much for being here.” He smiled at the three potential models. “I understand that you are keen on the idea of collaborating with me on a new work for my garden, here?”

“That’s right. They’re very keen!” Mrs Lomax replied on their behalf. Polkan put up a finger to silence her and smiled apologetically at the youngsters.

“Are you familiar with the way I create my art?” He asked.

“Yes, they are.” Their mother supplied with obvious enthusiasm. “I told them all about everything you showed me.”

“I am very grateful of course, dear lady.” Polkan turned to her with a somewhat forced smile. “And I appreciate your excitement. But I must ask you to refrain from answering on your children’s behalf. It is they, after all, who will have to endure the inconveniences of the process and I need to hear, from their own mouths, that they are both aware and willing. After all, a model who panics or tries to back out at the very last moment can utterly ruin a composition, wasting not only the materials used to create it but the chance of the other models in the work to receive their due.”

It was obvious that Mrs Lomax bristled a little at being spoken to this way but she could not deny the logic of what he said. She gave a curt little nod and, rather archly, mimed zipping her mouth closed.

“Thank you.” Polkan smiled. “So,” he turned back to the children, “are you familiar with the process by which my works are created and willing to participate?” They all briefly said that they were. “And you understand that you will not survive the process but that your forms will be immortalised in bronze?” The youngest girl nodded enthusiastically. The other two glanced at each other, slightly more reticent, but confirmed that they understood and would be willing participants.

“Well then, if everyone could sign these contracts, confirming what we have just discussed?” Polkan handed out clipboards with attached pens, each one with a three-page contract mounted on it with a space to sign at the bottom of each page. “Once these are signed,” he turned to Mrs Lomax, “you can be on your way. I have facilities to accommodate the subjects until we are ready to create the work, then you can come back and view the finished composition once it goes on public display.”

Once the forms were all signed and handed back, final hugs and kisses were exchanged between Polkan’s three new subjects and their mother. The only one who showed much enthusiasm was the youngest, the older two seeming like they couldn’t wait for her to leave!

“I take it this was far more your mother’s idea than your own?” Polkan chuckled, sitting back down once he had seen Mrs Lomax out.

“You could say that, yeah!” The boy, who’s name was Sam, rolled his eyes. “But don’t worry, we’re up for it, especially if it means getting away from Mother-of-the-Year!”

“You have no idea how hard she pushes us!” His sister, twelve year old Natalie agreed. “It’s like she didn’t do enough with her life so wants to do great things for her! Pretty sure she only wants us to do this so she can brag to her friends and have them all compliment her on how beautiful we are!”

“She’s nice sometimes,” the youngest sibling, eight year old Evie chipped in, “but she can be really mean too! She says everything is for us but we know it’s all for her so people will tell her what a great mum she is!” Polkan couldn’t help but smile. He has been nervous about suggesting the idea he had to the youngsters, seeing as how it was somewhat racier and less genteel than the sculptures he had created up until now, but something told him now that they would be keen if only because they would know their mother would hate it!

“Here’s what I have in mind.” He took a folder out of his desk and handed over three photocopies of the sketch he had made the evening after first seeing their photographs. “I feel it has genuine artistic merit and that it will prove popular with the public but I suspect your mother will be less keen to show it off. Perhaps you could consider it a final prank against her? A chance for you three to get the last word, so to speak?”

“Woah!” Sam’s eyes went wide as he viewed the intended composition. Natalie made intrigued noises, turning it to various different angles to get a better idea of what she was looking at. Young Evie simply giggled and put her hand to her mouth.

“What do you think?” Polkan asked.

“She is really gonna hate that!” Natalie laughed. “She’ll sure your ass from here to next Tuesday!”

“She is welcome to try!” laughed Polkan. “She has signed the contract which clearly stipulates that she has no say, either before or after the creation of the pieces, as to its composition and has no rights what so ever regarding the display, photographing, replication or publicity of the piece or any associated products or images. In short,” he leaned back in his chair, “you no longer belong to her and she has no legal recourse.”

“I kinda wish I could see her face!” Sam laughed, handing the paper back to the artist. “So when are we going to do this? Today?”

“Oh no.” Polkan chuckled, “But good to hear that you’re keen! No, you have the rest of the day here to relax in the private facilities. We have a gym, a pool and even a small cinema if there’s a last movie or two you wanted to see. Tomorrow I’ll show you around the studio and run through the composition with you, give you a chance to practice getting into position and holding the pose, that sort of thing. Then the day after, in the morning, we’ll make a start! How does that sound?”

“Wow, time to just do what we want?” Natalie exclaimed. “I thought you didn’t go to Heaven until after you died?” She gave a little chuckle to show that she meant the comment light-heartedly but Polkan could tell there was an element of truth in her words.

“There’s just one thing.” He leant towards the older siblings. “You can see from the design that the composition requires a certain degree of intimacy between the two of you? I don’t know how you feel about that? If you would be comfortable…”

“You’re asking if I’ve ever sucked Sam’s cock before?” Natalie laughed, causing her brother to blush a deep crimson. “Well duh! Who else am I going to practice on? My dad?” She pulled a disgusted face. “I know some of the girls at school suck the teachers but that’s just… eww!” She pantomimed an over-the-top shudder.

“Okay!” Polkan laughed, “So I take it this won’t be a problem for you two?”

“I’m not going to have to suck anyone’s cock am I?” Evie asked with a slight look of horror on her face. “That’s so gross, I don’t know how you do that sort of thing!” She turned to her sister. “You know boys pee out of those, right?”

“Don’t worry!” Polkan assured her. “The object I have you holding in my design is a kind of adult toy, known as a dildo. Have you heard of those before?”

“Oh yeah!” Evie laughed. “Mum has like three of those. She says they keep her company since Daddy left her!”

“That sounds about right!” chuckled Polkan. “Usually they’re made from plastic but I’ve asked for a wooden one to be made for you to hold. That way it should burn up far more easily and won’t leave the residue a plastic one might.

“That’s okay then.” Evie smiled, relaxing. “As long as I don’t have to stick anything in my mouth that someone else pees out of!”

“Well that’s all settled then!” The artist smiled. “If you follow me, I’ll take you to your home for the next couple of days. Oh, just one more thing,” he added as his new models stood up, ready to follow him, “Mel,” he pressed the intercom, “could you bring the box in, please?” The young secretary came in with a large cardboard box with Mrs Lomax’s address already written on the side. “I’m going to have to ask you to take you clothes off and leave them here.” He explained, “We will send them back to your mum. There are towels and robes in your room if you want them for after a swim or something like that but I don’t suppose you will as we keep it nice and warm in there. Otherwise, from now on, you have no need for clothes.”

 No.19935

Pt 4

While they undressed, Polkan took the opportunity to admire his latest subjects. All three had what could be described objectively as perfect bodies for their respective ages, toned without being overly muscular and it was clear that they all took good care of their hair and skin, whether through their own choice or, more likely, through a regimen imposed by their mother. Looking at Sam’s fairly substantial member, he couldn’t help wondering how much Natalie would be able to take in her throat and how much would remain on view to the art-loving public.

Once they were ready, the artist led his naked young guests through the garden as he had done with their mother some days earlier, pointing out pieces of particular interest or that he thought they might enjoy. It was clear from what they saw that the composition planned for them was by far that raciest and most shocking of all his work to date, even when compared to the incestuous twins their mother had so admired, and all three felt a sense of pride, excited that, among all the statues on display, theirs was almost guaranteed to attract the most attention!

Instead of taking his models into the barn, however, Polkan led them along a path that circled around the outside of the rustic building and led to a more modern-looking one which was hidden from public view by a line of trees through which there was only one gate. Like the barn, this gate was secured with a magnetic lock controlled from a keypad into which Polkan typed the combination.

Once inside, the siblings ran excitedly around wanting to take in every detail. The facility was designed to house up to five youngsters at a time but Polkan assured them that they would have it to themselves for the duration of the stay. There was an impressive array of gym equipment alongside a pool area which included a hot-tub and a number of fun, twisting slides as well as the main pool itself. The cinema the Polkan had told them of was a round room with a curved screen at the front and several large speakers around the wall. The bedroom had five beds so the siblings could easily have one each if they wanted to but the beds were also large enough that, if they decided two or even all three of them wanted to share then it would be possible.

“Enjoy yourselves!” Polkan instructed warmly. “Meals will be provided for you and if you want anything in between, there is a well-stocked refrigerator over there!” He pointed to the small kitchen area. “Obviously from the middle of tomorrow we will have to be very careful about what you eat, in preparation for the process, but for today and tomorrow morning, anything goes! Have fun!” He wished the three grinning, naked youngsters before leaving them to their fun.

 No.19942

One of your best stories yet!

 No.19944

>>19942

To me it's THE BEST on all gurochan lit. But maybe I didn't scrolled enough to see more stories here. Of cause it because I love this themes and also how it written. All characters are so… realistic. Not regular for the genre of cons snuff.

I have some remarks, but I don't want to write it as I first want to read all the whole story the writer has in his mind.

 No.19945

>>19942
>>19944
Thank you both! Glad you're enjoying it :-)

Polkan, you don't think you might be ever so slightly biased? ;-)

 No.19947

I'm not going to ask you to change the setting at this point (it's also absurd, as logic need not apply in a porn story), but just for reference: By forgoing the respiratory tubes, you have also created airtight containers for the kids. Humans are made mostly from water, water turns to vapor at high temperatures. Pressurized vapor + airtight container = Boom.

 No.19948

>>19947
Hehe I know the science is a little off but my logic is that the wooden bases mean the block is not actually air-tight :-)

 No.19949

>>19948
Whatever. The story is so good I'm more than willing to forgive and condone those kind of breaks from reality ;-). Can I ask for a favor now that we are here? Since Polkan suggested a story and got a cameo, what about a cameo of yours truly if you ever write that story I suggested of the girl leather fashion industry? It would be nice to see my character peeling a little girl top to bottom to create a beautiful kinky masterpiece for another little girl to wear.

 No.19950

Very interesting so far, though not as… interactive?.. as being skinned alive.

Speaking of statues being made from kids makes me imagine some way of creating the solid shell around the living kids or putting them in a vat of transparent liquid that can be solidified in an instant (as in the picture posted in the Dinah thread). Now that I think of it, the former has an advantage of being able to touch the statues, the latter of seeing the kids themselves and not just the opaque material covering them. But since neither of those sound exactly realistic anyway, maybe they can be just combined into the vat with the transparent liquid that either only solidifies in a thin layer around the kids, or solidifies fully, but then can be just as easily unsolidified, but a thin layer around the kids remain? And then they are taken out of the vat and can be touched (solid and smooth to touch) and viewed from up close.

Then the focus would be on how the kids know that once they solidify they stay alive until they die slowly and painfully of suffocation without being able to move a single muscle. But that's exactly why they want to pose with most happy expressions, because they think it would be immensely fun how they would be dying in great and earnest agony while looking like they're can't be any happier. And the happy expression itself is not an act, but the genuine expression of that very fun. Which closes the logical loop: they look happy while suffering -> it is fun -> that fun is what makes them look happy in the first place. Which sounds exactly like the logic my version of Kagamine twins love, so maybe I should make a story like that about them? Though I can't even finish the Black Ice properly… So thinking of that… do you take requests?.. It's just that I have so many ideas that just never end up turning into anything real.. your productivity on the other hand is crazy… not that you seem like you're having any troubles coming with ideas yourself… but they're also mostly revolve around cooking. Also, it was all the talks about the statues that made me think of this particular idea, but if you've also had enough statue stories for now, I also have other idea that I wouldn't mind seeing realized.

 No.19951

>>19949
I was thinking I "owe" you a story like this, yeah ;-)

 No.19952

>>19950
I've always found the idea of the "victim" cooperating a huge turn-on - whether it be rubbing themselves in oil for cooking, posing for a statue like this or whichever. I did have an idea kinda like what you described where a very thin substance is "painted" onto their bodies but dries as hard as rock, despite being no thicker than an egg-shell.

Have you ever read "The Servant of the Bones" by Anne Rice? That involves a similar process whereby a young man is turned into a living statue and symbolic embodiment of a god and by the end of the day, the gold will harden around him and he will be an actual statue, his body eventually rotting away inside.

 No.19953

>>19952
There are many things that can be done with that living statue concept. You can leave their nostrils free to let them breath, and then with a nasogastric sound, fill their bellies with some kind of insect that could quickly eat them from the inside out, similar to those beetles in the mummy movie.

 No.19954

>>19953
OMG those beetles always gave me the creeps! Seeing them moving under the skin like that… *shudder*

 No.19955

>>19954
They are an efficient way of picking a body clean. You can justify it in-universe saying that the material is so fragile that letting the body rot, firing it like on this story, using acid or any other method is not feasible. And since the girl is statuified, nothing can be seen from the outside (although hearing it is another matter).

 No.19956

>>19954
There is also another angle. Perhaps those beetles are valuable as medicine or jewellery, but only breed and eat inside mammals. Inflicting that horrible death to a defenceless critter is animal abuse, but if the living nest is willing… She could volunteer to be fully restrained, breed the young bugs inside her womb and let them eat her slowly.

 No.19958

>>19947

I didn't want to interrupt the story. But if others do it, then why I can't?

First.
The City of Pompeii was buried with ash, not lava. Very hot ash. Thet is why houses, goods and people were so perfectly preserved. Contrastrary with the sites that were destroyed by lava.
So in my technology, the kids are turned to statuses in a milliseconds. They even don't need to stay still in poses they were asked to stay. And no polish needs after. The statues are the very high definition represents of the child body. Each little detail is that is visible on a living child is same visible on him after he is stoned. Mimic, face expressions, muscles, skin structure, hair. The reproducing organs too.

And of cause no nostral devices needed.

 No.19959

>>19958
>>19947
Haha you guys know this is fantasy porn, right? :-P The cooking methods I describe elsewhere would result in inedible burned flesh!

Don't worry, I'm not in the least offended - just amused at the scientific dissection of stories like this ;-)

 No.19960

>>19959
Discussing those things leads to nowhere, in terms of the quality of the fantasy, but is fun (and educative!). There is no other intention than to see the situation from different angles and perhaps finding other approaches or new inspiration.

 No.19961

>>19960
Hehe I know :-)

 No.20027

Bump

 No.20028

>>20027
Oops - thanks :-D I can feel myself slowing down a bit which probably means once I finish this one and hopefully "Party Food" I won't have anything new for 2-3 weeks (Don't worry - I'll still be around to chat and throw around ideas) then there'll be another burst of creativity :D Will work on this one now!

 No.20032

>>20028

I'm not sure about 2-3 weeks you won't have anything. I'm sorry to say you that, but we (your readers) have enough ideas to keep your busy for the next 50 years.

 No.20033

>>20032
Oh I'm not saying nothing for sure - I'm not taking a holiday or anything. I can just feel it's not flowing as well as it did last week so warning you not to worry if there's a little hiatus :-)

Got interrupted writing this one this morning but will do some more on it later :-)

 No.20034

>>20028

As one of the many lurkers here (I'm sure of it, there are many), let me at least once say "Thank you for your stories".

And let me add one thing: Take the time like it fits for you. Your readers are of course eager to read something new (I'm no exception from this), but in the end, it's you, that should feel comfortable. So, don't let others pressure you too much. ;)

 No.20035

Yes, it is better, to take some time off from time to time, especially if you come back with such a burst of creativity like this january. I mean, you nearly took over the board again with your stories.

That said, it makes me happy, that you plan to finish "Party food", it's currently one of my favorites. I mean, you can't leave these poor cuties bound to the pole forever ;).

 No.20036

>>20034
>>20035
Thank you - always nice to know people appreciate what I do!

But yeah, but those poor cuties have serious cases of pins-and-needles by now! lol

 No.20038

Sorry if we have been pushy about completing your stories. Please don't stop!!!

 No.20040

>>20038
No not at all! I've just not had much time to myself today (you'll appreciate I can't do much writing of this kind while I have company!) and I didn't want anyone worrying if I didn't post for a day or two at some point.

I'm just over 1250 words into the next chapter of this story so should be posting within the next half an hour :)

 No.20041

Pt 5

The three Lomax siblings could never remember having as much fun as they did that afternoon and the next day. The sheer freedom of being able to do whatever they wanted without it needing to be towards some goal or to meet some daily target was quite intoxicating! Of course the first thing they had all done was absolutely pig out of the provided snacks, experiencing many of the delights on offer for the first time now that they were finally free of their mother’s “healthy eating” regime – a rule they had all noticed seemed to apply only to them and not to her! As is the gift of youngsters, the mountain of sugar and fat they consumed within their first hour in their temporary lodgings did nothing to limit their appetite for the pizzas, burgers, fries, tacos and other tasty hot foods that were delivered at dinner time! In between, they had all enjoyed the pool, tried out some of the gym equipment to try to shift the sluggish feeling from their junk-food binge and watched movies that had always been deemed “unsuitable” for them in the past – campy horrors with plenty of gore and action movies where super-powered soldiers from the future save humanity by blowing the heads off their enemies! Evie had not cared for these too greatly but the older siblings had and Evie had been content to leave them to their entertainment and make the most of having the water slides all to herself!

There was no formal bed-time assigned to them but they understood that the next day was probably going to be a busy one. This knowledge, coupled with the energetic way they had spent their afternoon meant that, by around 10pm they were all found themselves ready for bed. The TV was clearly visible from the sleeping area so this time they selected a movie they could all enjoy, Evie included and, since the beds were so large and comfortable anyway, piled into the same one together. At first, they simply snuggled and enjoyed the movie, all laying on top of the duvet due to the warmth of the room and propped up on a mountain of pillows stolen from the other, unused beds. Evie lay across her brother’s legs as she often did at home while Natalie curled up by his side, pulling his arm around her so that his hand rested on her bottom, a pose they had adopted many times in the past, usually after their more adventurous activities, that she always found very comforting.

As time progressed, however, Sam began to find the feeling of his two sisters’ naked bodies against his own incredibly arousing and felt his young manhood swelling. Evie was the first to notice, glancing up from the movie as she felt his muscles tense a little with the awkwardness.

“Boys are so weird!” She sat up and laughed. “Is my bare butt so sexy?” She bounced onto all-fours, facing away from him and wiggled her cute round ass in his direction before sitting back down again, giggling. “I’m not putting that thing in my mouth, if that’s what you’re thinking!” She raised an eyebrow and folded her arms defiantly across her flat chest.

“Don’t worry!” Natalie grinned, seeing her brother’s embarrassment. “I can take care of that!” The twelve year old languidly unfolded herself and stretched out next to her big brother, pressing her warm, naked, barely-pubescent body against his. Licking her lips playfully, she took the shaft of his hard penis in her delicate hand and began to slowly pump.

“You two are so gross!” Evie teased by did not look away. Instead, she was very intrigued by what she saw, especially when, as she took him in her mouth, showing off her deep-throat skills which she had been fortunate enough to learn gradually as Sam got bigger over the last three years or so, he slipped two fingers inside Natalie’s pussy and began to rub. Evie wondered if this could be a way to solve her own problem – the tickling, tingling feeling between her own puffy, hairless lips. She experimented first with one finger then with too finding that the rhythmic in-and-out motion did, indeed, scratch that very particular itch.

When Polkan himself came to wake them in the morning and let them know about their rehearsal session, he found the three naked siblings intertwined on the bed, Natalie and Sam in a lover’s embrace with his now flacid member grasped in her hand and Evie somehow draped across the two of them, one hand on her sister’s small breast and the other with the fingers still inside her own tight little pussy. All three looked so tranquil and happy that Polkan felt bad waking them but he knew that they would be as keen as he was to get on with the business of the day.

Given his young age and obvious virility, Polkan was hopeful that Sam would not be too spent to “rise to the occasion” during the rehearsal but, to be on the safe side, he decided that it would be best to advise the siblings against too much of this kind of play the following night. He did not want to deny them their fun, of course, but resolved to suggest a sort of curfew after which they should abstain. He knew from previous projects with teenaged boys that even the horniest could find the pressure of the situation intimidating, not to mention the knowledge of their imminent death, however willing they might be, and struggle to achieve or maintain an erection and he did not want that to happen to Sam. He was fairly sure, however, that Natalie would be able to tease one out of him when the time came, however nervous the boy was!

The artist woke his models as gently as he could, not wanting to startle them. If they were embarrassed at being found in such an intimate position, they did not show it. Instead they assured him that they had enjoyed their time in the accommodation so far and were looking forward to the rehearsal. Polkan suggested a light breakfast since they would not want to feel too full while attempting the poses he had in mind for them but that a great banquet of a lunch would be laid on for them, after which he requested that they keep eating to a minimum and drink only water so they would look trim for their fatal immortalising.

Promising to return to collect them for the rehearsal in around two hours, the artist left the siblings alone to prepare. All decided to begin the day with a dip in the pool, during which Sam and Natalie could not help getting intimate again but Evie, despite her erotic awakening of the night before, found herself far more interested in the water slides and in any incestuous play. After the swim they all showered, during which Evie did find herself in the mood for some more adult fun, inviting both older siblings to help her lather up her tight young body with the shower gel provided and happily returning the favour, using both hands to endure that her brother’s penis was especially clean while her sister gave her sweet young pussy a through cleaning from behind, inside and out before the two girls gave each other’s nipples a good polish and Sam turned his back on them to, as he put it, take care of business.

Eventually, however, all three siblings were washed, tried, satisfied and fed and sat waiting for Polkan on the edge of one of the clean beds. The previous day, when he had shown them to where they would be staying, walking through the park stark naked had felt a little strange and exciting, even ‘though there was nobody else around. Now, after basically a whole day’s-worth of nudity, they felt nothing of it!

“I do have a small favour to ask.” Polkan stopped them around the back of the barn in which his workshop was housed. “If you don’t mind, that is.” The young models looked at him expectantly. “Just around the front of the barn is a group of school-children. Around ten years old if I remember correctly. They are on a field trip here and I promised I would go and talk to them, just for a minute or two as they know I am busy. You three can wait here if you prefer and I’ll come back for you shortly but I’d really like to introduce you to them to show how happy and willing my subjects are. Would that be something you’d be happy to do?” The siblings exchanged quick glances, suddenly aware of their nudity and feeling a little self-conscious, but before either of the older two could ask any questions or even start to discuss it between themselves, little Evie stepped forward confidently.

“Of course!” She grinned. “After all, people like them are going to be looking at us for years. Some of them might even bring their grand-children to see us and tell how they met us when they were their age! We’re not going to get a chance to meet most of the people who are going to enjoy looking at our bodies so it will be fun to meet this group!” Polkan glanced up at Sam and Natalie to check that they agreed but both simply gave a shrug, assuming the matter decided by their little sister.

“Splendid!” Polkan clapped his hands together delightedly. “Let’s go and meet these young art-lovers and tell them about our latest project!”

 No.20048

I shall try to finish this one tomorrow - there's not a lot more story to tell :-)

 No.20054

>>20041

I read it during a boring skype conference. I bet, as I read my face reflected all what was writtwn. When I finished, I wanted to stand up and to say to every one: look what a nice story I had found there!

 No.20055

>>20054
Haha awesome! I've been known to read while waiting for my food at take-out places lol. Sorry I've not written more yet - today has not been my friend so far!

 No.20121

Just a short update to assure you I've not forgotten about this one :-) One or two more chapters to go depending on how things play out tomorrow :-)

Pt 6

An excited hush fell over the chattering school group as Polkan rounded the corner with his three naked models. Of course the children had seen many, many nude statues during their visit and had giggled at the privates of the first few but, after a while, the artistic nudity had started to seem normal. Three real naked people, however, none of them far off their own age, were quite another matter! None of the group, neither students nor teachers, were left without something pleasant to look at.

“Welcome!” Polkan beamed at the large group of youngsters as he stood before them, the Lomax siblings lined up against the wall of the barn behind him, hands behind their backs, happy for everything to be on show although the smiles on all but Evie’s face were a little forced. “I hope you’re enjoying you visit today? You are now standing outside my workshop. The place where all the magic happens! I’m afraid I won’t be able to take you inside today as I have to keep the details of my process on a strictly need-to-know basis! Other than my staff, it is really only my models and sometimes their families who get to see inside. Who knows?” He smiled, warmly, “Perhaps your visit here will inspire some of you to volunteer? Then, I can promise you, you will become intimately acquainted with my methods!” A pretty girl who was stood near the front, small for her age with long brown hair put up her hand. “Yes, my dear?” the artist smiled at her.

“I’d like to volunteer.” She told him a little nervously. “I think your statues are really beautiful and I’d like to become one. I do dance every weekend and gymnastics twice a week,” she gabbled, as if pleading her case, “so I think I have a good body. Do you think you could use me for one of your statues?”

“Well now…?” Polkan enquired.

“Katie.” The girl supplied with a shy smile.

“Well, Katie,” the artist’s warm smile put the young girl at her ease, “I’m sure there’s room in my collection for a girl as pretty as you!” Some of her friends looked at her with envy – either for the compliment or for her confidence in putting herself forward in the way that several of them wished they’d be brave enough to. “Take one of these cards,” he produced a small business card from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to her, “and have your parents call me. We’ll set up a meeting!” The cute little girl blushed a little as she tucked the card safely into the pocket of her white uniform shirt.

“Now I’m sure you will have noticed my three friends here?” Polkan addressed the whole group again, indicating the Lomax siblings with a wave of his hand. “Tomorrow, they will be helping me create possibly my finest work to date. We’re just on our way for a rehearsal to ensure that everything is perfect for tomorrow.” Evie gave the group staring at her naked body a happy little wave and even her big brother and sister managed to broaden their smiles a little. “So if you will excuse us,” the artist beamed at the young audience, “we must be getting on!”

The school children gave a polite round of applause and several craned their necks to see inside the workshop as Polkan opened the door just enough to guide his three subjects inside. For the rest of the afternoon, Katie was quite the celebrity among her classmates with everyone wanting to know if she was serious about becoming one of Bova Polkan’s naked statues and what sort of pose she thought he might preserve her in.

 No.20141

Sitting in big amusement center with trampolines watching my kids, reading this and trying to hide a bulge on my fly from erected penis from other parents. Can't stopping me from imagining all those happy jumping kids are becoming statues. Naked of cause. And what about my boys? I don't want to speak about it.

 No.20142

>>20141
Just think how pretty the park would look filled with beautiful naked statues ;-)

 No.20143

Oh sorry it's an indoor play-centre! Still think it needs decoration ;-)

 No.20144

This episode got away from me a little and ended up far longer than I intended! Polkan, since this story is my gift to you, I'll let you decide what kind of fun your namesake and Evie will have in the next chapter ;-)

Pt 7

Once they were inside the workshop barn, Polkan gave the siblings a few minutes to have a look around at the other works in progress. “The Joy of Reading” that their mother had seen begun was stood in the corner, polished and beautiful, ready to be put on display. Evie couldn’t help giggle at the very small willies on the two little boys of “The Joy of Friendship” which was currently being polished up by some of Polkan’s assistants. A new statue had just been removed from its mould – it showed three girls, aged around three, five and seven kneeling and looking in delight at a cluster of flowers that seemed to be growing from the bronze base.

“Those flowers were actually made from paper.” Polkan informed his models. “With wooden stalks. You’d never know it ‘though, would you? My team did a very good job of making them lifelike!” The three future statues agreed and expressed surprise at how delicate and beautiful they looked, even in blackened bronze. “I call this one ‘The Joy of Nature’” the artist explained.

“Seems a bit of a shame in some way.” Natalie observed. “A waste.”

“What do you mean?” Polkan asked, worried that his young model was having second thoughts about participating. Technically, once her mother had signed the documents, the stunning tween and her siblings had become his property to do with whatever he wished but an unwilling model would certainly not make for an attractive statue, not the kind he had in mind anyway. His racing, artistic mind began to think of alternative poses for the girl that would not require her cooperation. Something like Joan of Arc, perhaps? Firmly tied to a post? But what could he call that? The joy of… martyrdom? It would definitely need work. “I can assure you all three girls were delighted to give themselves to this piece and therefore gain a kind of immortality as you will!”

“Oh I didn’t mean like that!” Natalie laughed, putting Polkan back at his ease. “I was just thinking it’s a shame they got naked for the statue but the way they’re kneeling and leaning forward, you can barely see anything. The might as well have been wearing swimsuits!”

“Ah I see!” chuckled the artist. “Well the nudity of my subjects is intended to denote an purity and timelessness. That is why the nude has been such a popular subject in art throughout history. As soon as you put a model in clothes you place them in a particular place and time, dated by the changing whims of fashion, and assign them a social order whereas, beneath their clothes, a princess and a street urchin look much the same and the King cannot be distinguished from the dustman! Nakedness is the great leveller, you see. A naked body can belong to anyone of any time or status and ensures that the art will be as relevant in a hundred or even a thousand years as the day it was created!” Natalie nodded slowly, realising how much sense this explanation made. Posing nude, she now understood, was much more about what you did not show than what you did.

“Don’t worry, ‘though!” Polkan grinned at her a little cheekily. “With the pose we’ve discussed for you, there will be no doubt about whether you are closed or not!” Natalie blushed a little but could not help feeling pleased.

Once the three young models had satisfied their curiosity and asked all the questions they wanted to ask about the works that had not yet been revealed to the public, Polkan’s assistants rolled one of the largest wooden plinths onto the stage with its three perspex walls and the siblings adopted the pose they had seen in the sketches, directed carefully by the artist himself both with verbal suggestions and the occasional physical prompt. The pose itself was relatively easy but holding it for the four to six minutes it would take for the quick-drying plaster-like substance to be poured in an harden was a little more challenging. Sam certainly had no issue rising to the occasion and well-practised Natalie was able to take him deep into her throat but, having done so, then having to remain still rather than begin the natural rhythmic sucking was torture for both of them. Evie probably had the easiest job of all although she did have a suggestion of her own, asking if her free hand, the one that was not holding the wooden dildo, could go somewhere other than Polkan initial suggestion. This was an idea to which he readily agreed, much to Evie’s delight, on the condition that she would be able to remain still in her preferred pose.

After what seemed like an age of burning muscles and almost explosive sexual frustration, Polkan confirmed that he was happy with the pose and satisfied that they would be able to hold it for the required length of time.

“The rest of the day is your own.” He told them with a broad smile. “Lunch will be provided back in your accommodation shortly but after that I’m afraid you must limit yourselves to the smoothies in the fridge. I assure you they are very tasty and quite filling. By all means spend the next few hours however you desire but I must ask that you all refrain from sexual activity, including masturbation, after three o’clock this afternoon. Everyone okay with that?” All three agreed, albeit somewhat grudgingly. “Great!” the artist beamed again. “Go have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow morning!”

He had barely finished talking before Sam and Natalie were out the door. Polkan could not help chuckling to himself, wondering if they would even make it back to the living quarters or whether he would find them copulating in the bushes on his way back to his office. He was fairly sure that, even if they had only engaged in oral play and mutual masturbation up until that point, neither brother nor sister would die a virgin the next day!

As he turned to leave, Polkan noticed that Evie was still stood close beside him, looking up a little shyly.

“What’s the matter?” He smiled down at her. “Don’t you want to go and play?”

“I don’t want to be anywhere near those two!” She rolled her eyes. “They’re going to spend the next few hours doing nothing but fucking!” There was something adorable and alluring about the little girl’s frankness. “And I really don’t want to watch that! Can I hang out with you?”

“Sure!” Polkan smiled, thinking what pleasant company the naked little girl might be in his otherwise fairly dull afternoon. “Since you don’t want to go back and join the others, how about I show you my personal apartment above my office and we can get some lunch there instead?” Evie happily agreed and held his hand happily as he led her through the sculpture garden back to the office where she and her siblings had arrived the day before, stopping occasionally to admire or discuss a particular piece or to wave and pose for tourists and other visitors eager to snap a picture of the famous Russian artist and his latest muse.

Eventually, they reached the office and after exchanging greetings and general pleasantries with the young secretary, Polkan summoned the elevator which could only be accessed with a key. The door slide open and he ushered his young guest inside with a pat on her firm bare bottom before following her in.

Evie gasped when the doors opened again and showed her Polkan’s private apartment. It was not his real home, of course, just somewhere for him to stay while he was working on or visiting his unique sculpture garden but it was never the less beautiful and luxurious. The walls were adorned with drapes interspersed with paintings, presumably by Polkan himself, of beautiful, naked children and teenagers in various innocent and more erotic poses. There was a desk littered with papers and sketchbooks, a dumb waiter next to a fridge and, dominating the room, a large, circular bed adorned with any number of throw-cushions and pillows. What caught Evie’s attention most, however, were the various statues around the room with varying levels of detail and seemingly made from different materials.

“What are these?” She asked, curiously, walking to each in turn and touching the faces. None of the poses were especially elaborate – simply boys and girls, individually, either standing or sitting on the floor. Some of the standing figures were posing a little, others stood at attention with their hands behind their backs. The most relaxed seemed to be the seated ones who sat either cross-legged or with one knee bent and the other leg outstretched. One of the least detailed depicted a boy of maybe eleven or twelve stood with his hands coyly covering his genitalia – the only one among the statues to be attempting any kind of modesty.

“These are all my early experiments,” Polkan explained, standing behind the curious little girl with his hands on her shoulders, “before I perfected the technique of preserving youthful beauty that I will be using with you. His name was Tommy,” he explained, identifying the shy boy, “he was happy to help me out but said he didn’t want everyone looking at his bits, as he called them. I said that was a shame since I believe that all bodies are beautiful but I agreed that he could cover himself this way if he preferred, especially since he was never likely to be on public display. Unless, of course,” he added, “I decide to open an exhibition detailing the evolution of my work, but I have no plans to do so at the moment.”

“What did you do to him?” Evie asked, feeling the smooth, glassy surface of the boy’s cheek which reminded her of a tea-cup. Like most porcelain, this statue was white.

“He was coated in a kind of resin,” Polkan explained, “very thin and goes on like paint but dries rock hard and smooth as you can see. No moulds, kins of melting metal required but, as you can see, quite a lot of the precious detail is lost.”

“So he’s still inside there?” Evie’s voice was full of morbid fascination. “How long was he alive as a statue?”

“The coating would have made it impossible for him to take a breath.” the artist explained, “He had the oxygen solution in his lungs the same as you will so he would have lived for up to ten minutes but no longer than that.”

Evie could not help but feel a little sorry for the boy. She knew that she too would die in the making of her effigy but she also knew that she would be burned up before she started to suffocate, dying very quickly with very little suffering. She hoped he hadn’t been too scared while he waited to die – she had tried holding her breath under water at the swimming pool before and her lungs had always started to hurt before she gave up and returned to the surface. She didn’t like to imagine what it must feel like for someone unable to surface, as Tommy had been. At least he had made an important contribution to art history as, without him, the beautiful garden she was to become a part of could never have come to be.

“In time,” Polkan continued, “he rotted away inside but his skeleton is still in there!” He reached out and rocked the statue gently backwards, creating a rattling sound and the model’s skeleton shifted around the hollow interior.

“What about this one?” Evie moved to a girl around her own age who was sat down with one leg outstretched and reaching for her toes as if she was doing ballet stretches.

“Eloise.” Polkan identified her. “Charming little girl, she was. This was the third method I tried. Careful!” He cautioned as Evie reached out to touch the matt black statue, “She’s far more fragile than the others. She was preserved much the same way as Tommy but with a very much thinner substance. A fine carbon dust mixed with resin. You’ll see a far higher level of detail than on Tommy.” He pointed without touching to the girl’s left nipple which was picked out in perfect detail but his young guest was captivated by the beauty of the young dancer’s face. She looked so peaceful and serene. “The trouble with this method is that the finished statue is very delicate. Oh a light brush of the fingers would do her no harm but she would never withstand being displayed in the elements the way you will be.”

Over the next fifteen minutes, the artist accompanied his naked young guest from statue to statue, telling her the names of the models and the methods used to capture their beauty. Finally they reached the one he described as his final prototype – a girl or ten with her long hair in a pony-tail and her hands by her sides, ensuring that every single detail of her lovely body would be preserved for all eternity. Her name had been Charlotte, Polkan explained, and she was the first model to be immortalised by the method he now used to create all the statues for the garden.

“She’s very beautiful!” Evie observed in a voice filled with awe. “I hope I look that pretty in my statue!”

“Oh I’m sure you will!” The artist smiled and stroked her soft, blonde hair. Just then, an electronic ping and a light next to the hatch informed him that the dumb waiter had been sent up with food for the two of them. “Ah lovely!” he exclaimed. “It seems our lunch is here. I’m sure you worked up quite an appetite this morning. Then once we’ve eaten,” he grinned a little wolfishly at his naked young guest, “we can think of a way to pass the next few hours. I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something!”

 No.20159

Polkan? I'm guessing they just watch cartoons and play board games? ;-)

 No.20166

>>20159

Oh, don't worry about them. They have 1/2 sunday with their tablets… Now they are sleeping in their beds. Their mother very obsessive to put them to sleep not later then 21:00. Only with me they can play up to the moment they are falling to sleep.

 No.20167

>>20166
Hehe no I was asking what kind of fun Evie and Bova Polkan should have ;-)

 No.20168

The previous reply was mine…

I live the story. You are speaking about the fact that all the naked people are equal. It's a very important point. Because it makes the story a philosophic connotation, makes it not pornographic at any level. Little girl hanging with a growing man is a curious intrigue here, not twisted sexual profanation.

What a little girl who's hours is countered can do with a man like Polkan. Everything I guess. But maybe Polkan will teach her that sucking a penis is not so horrible. Maybe a movie where beautiful Eloise gives a blowjob to Polkan before to be stoned forever.

 No.20169

>>20168
I realised it was you :-) Glad you appreciated the reflections about nudity in art - I was quite proud of that bit. Is fictional Polkan's appartment somewhere you'd like to stay?

 No.20170

>>20169

Of cause I would like to stay in an apartment like that!

For example, I can invite there some mothers for a good romantic quality time. As a mom is making sex and laughing on all the little stoned boys and girls, I tell her about how I owned them all from their mothers to stone them.

 No.20171

>>20170
It sounds like I have your permission to let those two have whatever fun they want ;-)

 No.20176

>>20171

Yes. But I would like also to read how little girl changes her mind about putting pissing thing into her mouth, if this thing belong to a world famous person.

 No.20178

>>20176
I think something along those lines could be arranged!

 No.20183

Pt 8

Polken pulled a chair out for his young guest at a small table where he often took his meals, when he was not too engrossed in his work and eating at his desk, that was. The naked little girl smiled, sat down and allowed the artist to tuck her chair in. He then retrieved the tray from the dumb waiter and set it in the middle of the table before taking his own seat. The food was shared out and they ate in companionable silence for a few minutes. It was not totally unknown for Polkan to entertain guests like Evie in this room but still rare enough to be a treat for him as much as it was for her.

“You know,” Evie smiled up at the artist after swallowing a bite of her cheese burger, “this feels a bit like we’re on a date!”

“Well I would be proud to be on a date with you!” He told her warmly, “Especially with you wearing such a striking outfit! I’m sure I would be the envy of every man!” This made the little girl giggle quite enchantingly. “Have you been on a real date before?”

“No,” Evie admitted a little sadly, “but I’ve seen them on TV and in movies. Mummy said me and Natalie weren’t allowed boyfriends until we were older. Said we had to concentrate on our talents. Not that that’s going to happen now.” She sighed.

“So Natalie has never had a boyfriend either?” asked Polkan, surprised to hear this about such a stunningly beautiful girl.

“No.” confirmed Evie. “That’s why she does that stuff with Sam!” She made a disgusted face and mimed puking.

“Well I would be delighted to be your boyfriend until tomorrow!” Polkan informed her, pushing his now empty plate aside and reaching out to take her delicate little hand in his. “In fact I would consider it an honour!” Evie looked with delight at the famous artist. She had to admit that he was quite handsome, even for someone old enough to be her dad, and that someone as rich and famous as him should want a nobody like her for a girlfriend felt like quite a thrill!

“I’d love that!” She beamed. “If you really mean it?”

“Of course I do!” Polkan leaned forward and kissed her hand in a charming, chivalrous fashion. “I never say anything I do not mean, especially to beautiful young girls such as yourself!” Evie could not help but blush. “But I must ask,” the artist lowered his voice conspiratorially, “is it the thought of all sexual activity, such as might be considered normal between a boyfriend and girlfriend, that repels you so or simply the idea of performing such acts with your brother?”

“With my brother, mostly!” Evie admitted, “But I still think it’s kinda gross to put a willy in your mouth!” Polkan chuckled.

“Of course I shall not ask anything from you during our relationship that you do not want to give me.” He assured her. “But I hope you will be willing to accept everything I want to do for you?”

“Well, yeah…” Evie looked a little puzzled, “But like what?”

“All it good time, my dear!” Polkan released her hand and stood up. “All in good time! But first I suggest we take a shower. It is a very warm day and we have both built up quite a sweat! Does that sound like a good idea?” Evie nodded quite enthusiastically, a little embarrassed at how keen she was to see this handsome older man in the nude. “Lovely! Well since you are already dressed for the occasion,” he teased, “perhaps you would be good enough to help me out of my clothes?”

 No.20186

This Polkan is so romantic… If I was 10% of it I would have much more women in my life then I have had…

 No.20187

>>20186
He is certainly a charmer, but I suspect being a handsome, world-famous millionairre artist helps his prospects too!

 No.20254

BUMP !!!

 No.20255

>>20254
Sorry! Had some "proper" writing I needed to get done today! Hope to get back to this soon :-)

 No.20270

Pt 9

It did not take Evie long to have the artist out of his clothes and as naked as she was. Other than the occasional very small boy brought into the female changing room by his mother, the only living naked male body she had seen was her brother’s. While he was an objectively handsome boy with a well-toned figure, Bova Polkan was something else entirely. An admirer of and believer in the inherent beauty of the human body, he had always taken pains to keep his own in good condition. He was well-built and muscular without taking it to the grotesque extremes of those who developed their bodies competitively. His erect manhood was almost twice the size of her brother’s but, she realised, that was only to be expected due to their difference in age. She thought of the comically tiny willies on the little boy statues. The artist’s naked body reminded the little girl quite a lot of the Greek and Roman statues she had seen on visits to other museums.

Polkan reached out his hand to his young guest, taking hers in his own, and led her towards the shower. Inside the dark-tiled room which had shower-heads positioned at a variety of angles as well as a large one above, Evie noticed something strange.

“Why are there no controls?” she asked, curiously, “How do you make it work?”

“Ah well it’s a kind of magic!” Polkan winked and knelt down so that he could whisper in her ear. “Go ahead!” He said out loud with a broad grin, “Try it! But you have to say it loud and firm, like you’re giving a command to a dog.” Looking a little sceptical, Evie never the less did as the artist had said.

“Shower on!” She announced in her most commanding voice. Instantly, the pair of them were engulfed in what felt like a tropical rainstorm, lovely hot water coming at them from every direction. “Wow!” Evie grinned excitedly, “This is awesome!”

“I’m very glad you think so!” Polkan chuckled. “Now I think I should get you clean!” He pressed the soap dispenser on the wall and rubbed his hands together to form a thick lather then set to work on Evie’s firm, athletic young body. There was something about the way he touched her – his caress firm yet gentle, and the special attention he paid to the most intimate parts of her body that drove her eight year old senses wild. As the warm jets rinsed the foamy soap from her body, she threw her arms around Polkan’s neck and kissed him deeply, the was she had see people do in films. She could feel his erection pressing into her toned belly and was seized with an intense curiosity.

“I want to wash you now!” She told him breathily, speaking softly into his ear before disentangling herself and stepping back. “Stand up!” she instructed, filling her hands with the foamy soap as he had done. At first she reached up and lathered his broad chest before moving her way down his stomach to the part that really interested her. Using both hands, she rubbed the length of his rock-hard penis with her soapy little hands, provoking a soft moan from the artist. Up and down she ran her hands, fascinated by the way the organ felt and seemed to react to her touch. Before things could reach their natural conclusion, however, Polkan put a hand on her shoulder and took a step backwards. The little girl looked up at him, the water washing away the soap and running over his muscular form, wondering what she had done wrong.

“What’s the matter?” She asked, tears starting to brim in her big, round eyes. “Did I do something wrong? Should I not touch you there? I just thought…”

“Oh my darling!” He knelt down and kissed her tenderly on the forehead, “You can touch me anywhere you like! I just didn’t want things to be over so soon. I know you think what your brother and sister do is gross but I thought you might like to find out why they enjoy it so much!” Evie considered this for all of half a second before agreeing.

“You’re not going to pee in my mouth ‘though, are you?” She asked a little nervously.

“Oh sweetheart,” Polkan chuckled, “I couldn’t if I wanted to right now, I assure you! If all goes well you may feel me squirt something else into your mouth but I assure you it will not be that!”

Now so curious and nervous at the same time that she thought she might actually burst, Evie, guided by the artist’s gentle, caring hands on top of her head, took him in her mouth and began to caress him with her tongue as she might an ice lolly on a hot summer’s day.

“Very good!” Polkan assured her, gently stroking her wet hair, “Don’t be afraid to suck a little and move your head back and forth.” She did as she was told. “That’s it! Perfect! Oh you are such a talented little girl, I doubt your sister could do half as well despite all the practice she has!” Evie could not help but be pleased by this compliment and felt a warm inner glow before a moment of shock as the artist let out a moan and his body shuddered at the same time as she felt her mouth filled with a warm, thick, slightly salty liquid. Instinctively, she swallowed it down and released his manhood, looking up at him with hopeful and expectant eyes.

“Did I do it right?” she asked. “Is that what’s supposed to happen?”

“Oh yes, my dear!” He assured her. “You did everything perfectly! Now it is my turn to return the favour!”

 No.20271

Polkan, don't forget you can message me over at Eka's portal :-)

 No.20301

Pt 9

With judicious use of fingers and tongue, Polkan soon had his young guest crying out in ecstasy. To the artist, there was truly nothing more beautiful in all of creation than the face of an innocent child experiencing sexual delight and he was so pleased that she had suggested an amendment to his design for the statue that she and her siblings would soon be helping him to create. With any luck, his fatal immortalisation process would be able to preserve her with the very expression that he saw now.

Once they were both clean, the artist whispered another instruction for his young guest to call out.

“Shower off!” She commanded forcefully. The water instantly stopped, much to Evie’s delight. The idea of being able to control something like this with her voice was lots of fun and she wondered what other things around the apartment might be controlled in a similar fashion. “Air dry!” She called out as instructed and, from the same jets where the water had been spraying a few moments earlier came gusts of hot air. The little girl danced and twirled around gleefully, something that Polkan found both heartwarmingly beautiful and very arousing. Soon, both were dry, even their hair, and Evie called out the command “End sequence!” bringing the shower experience to a close.

Taking the little girl’s hand once more, Polkan led her over to the bed. He sat down first then helped her up beside him.

“Now,” he smiled, “it is totally up to you what we do next. We could watch a movie or listen to some music or perhaps, if you’d rather, we could…”

“I want to do sex.” She interrupted him abruptly. “Not mouth stuff like we did in the shower, although that was fun!” She blushed a little, slightly embarrassed by her own enthusiasm. “But I want to have proper sex with you now. If you want to, that is?” She asked a little nervously. “Isn’t that what men do with their girlfriends?”

“Well of course I would be delighted.” Polkan took her tiny, delicate hand and kissed it. This is what he had been hoping for and of course Evie was not the first of his models to ask for this final favour from him but he was careful always to let them ask – never to push himself upon them. All the children and teenagers who agreed to become part of his work were already giving him the greatest gift he could imagine. He could not bring himself to ask for one single thing more from them. If they asked it from him, however, that was another matter and he could deny his young subjects nothing. “But you are so very young, still. Very small. And I am a grown man. I am worried that it might hurt for you.”

“In a few hours time I’m going to get burned up into ash!” She reminded him, firmly but without rebuke, “While I’m trapped in a giant piece of stone! I’m pretty sure that’s going to hurt more than you pushing your thing into my pussy.” She looked down at the artist’s manhood which was once again erect. She pushed it down with the tip of her finger and giggled at the way it sprang up again, wobbling. “After all,” she teased, “it’s not like it’s THAT big!” She stuck her tongue out cheekily at her world-famous, rich and handsome boyfriend.

“Oh I see! It’s like that, is it?” Polkan pounced, knocking her onto her back on the soft bed and tickling her around the ribs and belly as she giggled hysterically. “Okay,” he mounted her, the tip of his penis nuzzling at her smooth lips, ready to penetrate her, “are you ready?” She nodded. “You must tell me right away if you want me to stop. Do you promise?” She rolled her eyes at him.

“Yes if I want you to stop, I’ll tell you! Now come on, you might have all the time in the world but I don’t! Get on with it!” Tentatively at first, then more confidently when she showed no signs of distress, Polkan pushed forward and entered the little girl’s virgin passage. The artist was a caring, giving lover and soon had his young friend moaning with delight and more pleasure than she thought it possible to feel. After several minutes, once he could read the signs that her young body was reaching climax, he allowed his own orgasm to come. The lovers climaxed at the same instant and Evie could feel the strange sensation of being filled inside with the same substance that had filled her mouth only a matter of minutes earlier.

Afterwards, they lay cuddled on top of the soft, silken sheets. Polkan caressed her firm buttocks with one hand while playing with her beautiful hair with the other. He could tell that she was on the edge of falling asleep, the new experiences and sensations having taken quite on toll on even her energy levels.

“Promise you’ll never forget me.” She whispered softly, with half closed eyes.

“I promise.” Polkan assured her with a tender kiss on the forehead. With a contented smile on her lips, Evie fell asleep in his arms.

 No.20302

Next line made me laugh

>> Oh you are such a talented little girl, I doubt your sister could do half as well despite all the practice she has


I'm sure Bova Polkan tells it all the little naive girls (and maybe boys) before he turns them to statues.

BTW. what is Bova? There is no name like that in Russia/Russian. Sounds like a not so respectable nickname. Maybe it should be Vova, from Vladimir?

 No.20303

>> He was well-built and muscular without taking it to the grotesque extremes of those who developed their bodies competitively

That is so true!!! We need to introduce this story to the class reading in all the schools! Children and youth need to make sport to make them beauty, healthful and attractive. Not to destroy their beauty with over training. All those girls and young women with to much muscles make me sick.

 No.20304

>>20302
I got the name Bova from the Wiki page on Polkan - I wanted a little background :-) It is the name of Polkan's enemy in folklore and I figured it fitted :-)
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polkan

Oh for sure to a degree he tells his temporary lovers what he thinks they will want to hear but is there any harm in letting them die happy? ;-)

 No.20305

>>20303
And yes, all children should read this story! Might inspire some interesting art projects ;-)

 No.20307

>>20304
I suppose nickname Polkan not to come from folklore but to come from name Polkovnik (Colonel in russian). It is a slang word that means unofficial and in some way respectful mention of their regiment commander in private conversations of the veterans.

 No.20308

>>20307
I do not know why the user known as Polkan chose the name but to give myself a little context when writing the story I relied on the wiki page :-)

 No.20310

Here's some input from a Russian who never were anywhere near the military: Polkan is a dog name. And given that the character on the wiki, although it's the first time I hear about him, is mentioned to be half-dog in some sources, it would seem reasonable to suppose that that's where it came from.

 No.20316

Pt 10

When Evie awoke nearly two hours later she realised she was alone in the bed, but under the sheets now rather than on top. Sitting up, she looked around for Polkan, seeing him sat at his desk, dressed in a silk robe and going through a pile of papers, scribbling occasional notes and signing some of them.

“Bova?” she called out, tentatively, realising that it was the first time she had ever addressed him by his first name. The artist turned around and smiled comfortingly.

“Ah, you’re awake!” He set down his pen and walked back over to the bed. “I didn’t like to wake you. Time is getting on, perhaps you would like me to take you back to your brother and sister so you can spend the rest of the evening together? After all, tomorrow morning will be your last.” The small girl looked away a little nervously, apparently worried to meet his eye. “What’s wrong?” He sat down beside her and stroked her hair.

“Do I have to go back to them?” She asked, very softly and nervously. “They’re only going to be doing stuff together even if they’re not allowed to have any more sex and I’m going to feel really left out. I don’t want to spend my last night lonely. Can I stay with you?”

“Of course you can, my dear!” He leaned forward and kissed her with more passion this time, the kiss of a lover. The naked little girl slipped her hand inside his robe, exploring his thigh and then finding what she was looking for. She glanced over at the clock on the wall.

“It’s after three.” She told him, a little sadly, “Does the rule about no sex go for us too?” Polkan couldn’t help but chuckle a little.

“That rule was to ensure that your brother would be able to achieve and maintain and erection for the process tomorrow.” He explained, “And I don’t suppose for one moment they are going to stick to it but a young man of his age would probably have very little difficulty. So no, it does not apply to us as long as you don’t think you will be too tired in the morning to hold your pose!”

“No,” Evie giggled charmingly, “I don’t think that will be a problem!”

The rest of the evening and the night was spent with interspersed episodes of sleep and love-making and some times just laying cuddled in each other’s arms. The love-making was genuine – far more than simple acts of animal passion. The love that the artist felt for the small girl was sincere, the same love he felt for all his subjects, and Evie, the youngest of three siblings, had never felt so valued and special in her short life.

When morning came, the lovers took another shower together, both adoring the intimate feeling of the other’s hands on their bodies as they caressed each other with the foamy soap. Once they were air-dried, once again at Evie’s command, Polkan dressed in a smart shirt and trousers while Evie, wearing by far the prettiest outfit any girl can ever wear, brushed out her golden hair. She wanted to look perfect in her statue form both for her own pride and to please her beloved Polkan.

The sun was warm and the light breeze pleasant as they walked through the park to collect the older siblings. Polkan’s staff had informed him that they had eventually made it back to their accommodation the day before after a number of al fresco trysts but nobody had checked up on them since then. This being far from the first time he had worked with models their age, Polkan had deliberately allowed enough time for them to get ready before they were needed in the studio. He fully expected to find them still fast asleep.

As they made their way among the existing statues, their polished bronze gleaming in the early morning sunlight, Evie looked at them thoughtfully, imagining what it would be like to be one of them – on display for all the world to see.

“Where are you going to put us?” the naked little girl asked conversationally, looking up at Polkan as she walked by his side, holding his hand. “When we’re a statue, I mean.”

“I was thinking,” he replied, “as it will be quite a large piece and one of my most striking, I will put it close to the entrance of the park, in front of my office. Therefore not only will it be one of the first that visitors see as they come in but I will be able to look at it all the time!” This made Evie’s heart swell with pride and happiness, reassuring her that she meant more to the artist than simply another model to pass some time with. He had promised never to forget her and, if he saw her every time he looked up out of his window, then it would be an easy promise to keep!

Just as he had suspected, when Polkan found Natalie and Sam they were fast asleep in a tangled mess of naked limbs and tousled hair on the bed. Natalie had a firm grip on her sleeping brother’s member which was hard as rock – clearly he was not going to have any issues performing, whether or not they had respected the previous day’s instructions.

“Wakey, wakey, sleepy-heads!” Polkan spoke loudly, leaning over and giving both a gentle shake on their shoulder. “Time to get up!” The siblings both blinked and sat up a little wearily, surprised to see their little sister stood beside the artist and giggling at them. For a moment, Sam thought about grabbing a pillow to hide his erection but that seemed a little pointless under the circumstances. “We’ll give you half an hour,” Polkan told them with a chuckle. “Get showered and dried off and brush your hair, then we’ll go to the studio. Excited for your big day?” Both youngsters smiled and nodded, still more than half asleep. “Come on,” the artist smiled down at Evie, “let’s leave them to it and go for a last little walk together. I will show you some of my other favourites.”

 No.20317

My (nick)name "Polkan" came originally from a half forgotten folklore. Not everyone familiar with the tale itself, but I did read it.

Today Polkan is a name frequently given to a big chained dog, whos propose in the life is to guard and defend the house and all what is inside. He has an angry look and gets only bones to it.
Why did I choose this name? It's a sad story. Back in summer 1991 when I was a school boy I wanted to make a money for myself and with my two older friends took a job in a village close to our town. The third day ended with fist battle my friends did with the local youth. And me ended in the police (then milicia) station. I was detained for 3 days (actually only 1.5: evening, night, whole day, night until 5:00 am). There was a big picture of dog on my t-shirt, so they called me Polkan. I think it was a joke.
When I got home my elder brother gave me strong slaps. But at list he did not said to my parents were I was. It was him who talked with the cops (musora), saying he is my father.
Thet is all

 No.20318

Edward Hyde, please continue. Your story is so good. And you are an extraordinary writer.

 No.20320

>>20317
Ah! Thank you for sharing your story. But I hope I have explained why I chose the name Bova :-) Glad you're enjoying the story :-D

 No.20321

Pt 11

When they returned from their romantic stroll around half an hour later, Evie and Polkan found Natalie and Sam waiting for them – clean and well presented but looking a little nervous. This was understandable after all as they were on their way to their deaths and, however willing his subjects may be, Polkan understood that it was a daunting prospect. Sam’s member hung at ease but, after a whispered instruction from the artist, Evie stepped forward and stroked it with the tips of her delicate fingers, giggling as she did so, causing it to spring to attention and Sam to blush deeply.

“I’m sorry about that.” Polkan apologised, “But it is very important for the art that you be capable of physical arousal and I needed to check. It seems we have no problems in that direction.” Sam nodded silently, hoping that everyone would stop talking about his erection so he could make it go away. Having it in his sister’s mouth for their statue was one thing but he didn’t fancy walking through the park, which by now was quite busy with tourist, with a raging hard-on. There was sure to be enough pointing, giggling and photographing as it was and he did not fancy drawing extra attention to himself of, more specifically, that part of his anatomy.

Evie had especially enjoyed her final walk alone with Polkan. Nothing sexual had taken place beyond a couple of passionate kisses and embraces but the feeling of romance and simply being important to someone – his whole world for those thirty or so minutes, was an experience she treasured more than any previous ones in her life.

Having assured Polkan that they were all ready, the three siblings accompanied him through the garden once more, among the statues that they, or their images at least, would very soon join, to the barn in which the studio was contained. Sam and Natalie walked together, arm in arm for comfort and mutual support, while Evie, of course, held the hand of the closest friend she had ever made.

The artist’s assistants were waiting for them when they arrived. The stage, as it was known, had been prepared as had the vats of the quick-drying plaster-like substance from which the mould would be made. Polkan exchanged words of thanks and final hugs with the older siblings before sharing a tender kiss with Evie. In truth, he could not help feeling sad about what was about to happen to her and part of him wished to keep her with him for longer, if not forever, but promises had been made – not least the promise to Evie to immortalise her beauty in the pose partly of her own choosing. He knew that if he showed sadness or even cried as he felt he wanted to, he would upset her too – an emotion which would show forever on the face of the bronze statue, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. Instead he kept a brave smile in place and assured her once more how beautiful she was and how that beauty would last forever.

Once the goodbyes were all said, the siblings mounted the circular wooden slab which had been rolled onto the stage and adopted the positions they had rehearsed the day before. As predicted, Sam had no trouble rising to the occasion and Evie proudly held aloft the wooden dildo as Polkan gave the instructed to begin the process. A few moments after her siblings were completely submerged, Evie took the opportunity to turn her head slightly and blew an air-kiss to Polkan who mimed catching it and stashing it away close to his heart, assuring her that he would treasure it forever before blowing one back to her. Contented, Evie resumed her position and a smile of sexually aroused delight mixed with the sheer joy of existence spread across her pretty face – the face that, scant seconds later, disappeared under the viscous white liquid.

The unveiling five days later, once the statue had been cast, polished, scanned for its gift-shop replicas and mounted in position, was a great success. There was something so happy and gleeful about the trio that nobody who looked at it could help but smile.

The bronze statue depicted Sam on all fours, looking out at the passers-by with a cheesy grin on his face while, beneath him, on her back, Natalie lay with her bend knees apart, just under his chin, displaying her young, open pussy to anyone who cared to look while she propped herself up on her elbows, three quarters of her brother’s erect penis in her mouth and down her throat. On Sam’s back, legs akimbo, sat Evie looking like a knight riding their trusty steed into battle but instead of a sword on lance in her hand she held a large phallic sex-toy. The fingers of her other hand, that Polkan had suggested she use to grip her brother’s curly hair, were instead inserted deep into her own tight little pussy.

Almost over night, the statue of the Lomax siblings became the most photographed, the most discussed both in artistic circles and indeed on social media, and the most purchased replica in the gift shop with some wealthy art-lovers even requesting the maximum three-quarter scale bronze replicas priced at over a million pounds each. Everyone who saw the statue fell instantly in love with it. Everyone, that is, apart from Mrs Karen Lomax.

THE END

 No.20322

>>20321
I must say, the story was beautifully executed and I have liked it a lot, but it would have been nice to see more detail on the actual process and specially the firing of the kiln (with a bit of a first person point of view from the subjects themselves, perhaps).

 No.20323

>>20322
Thanks :-) As you may have guessed, I have slipped into one of my softer, more romantic moods lol

 No.20327

Have to agree with >>20322 I was looking forward to the childrens' perspective on being immured and then burnt, but that part just got skipped.

 No.20328

>>20327
Ah sorry… I simply couldn't summon that level of cruelty yesterday and wanted to get this story finished. Maybe in a few weeks I'll write one about the girl from the school group who volunteered and detail her whole painful experience :-)

 No.20330

Working on a short sequel now that I hope you will both find more satisfactory ;-)

 No.20331

For all you sadistic fuckers who thought the last one wasn't cruel enough :-P Love you! ;-)



Katie’s Last Moment

Katie was ten years old. She was pretty, popular, did well in school, had hair that was the envy of many of her friends and even teachers and was in pretty great physical shape. Katie was the kind of girl who has everything going for her. And Katie was about to die.

This was the first moment that she really understood that. Like, recognised it in her soul. She had known since the moment she stepped forward to ask about volunteering on her school trip that she would not survive the process but, even when the artist had talked her and her parents through the detail of the process required to turn living children and teens into bronze statues, it has all seemed quite academic as if he was discussing giving her a hair-cut or a new outfit for a special occasion. All she had been focussed on was the idea that he beauty would be preserved forever.

It had been quite a thrill, undressing and standing stark naked in the artist’s office in front of not only this near-total stranger but his secretary and her parents, neither of whom had been allowed to see her in the nude for at least three years. The way everyone had been looking at her and discussing her form was almost too exciting for words! It was only after several minutes of discussing how she should be preserved standing up so that every part of her lovely young body would be visible that anyone had even talked to her as if she was another person in the room and not already a statue.

The artist, Bova Polkan, had suggested the title “The Joy of Dreaming” and suggested she be stood holding a baby doll and looking up towards the sky, as if imagining the day she would one day be a mother. It was then that she had been asked her opinion but, in all honesty, she didn’t care what interpretation would be put on the finished piece as long as she got to show off her beautiful naked body. In truth, the thing that pleased her most was that she would be standing up so visitors could walk all the way around her and admire both her shapely behind and cute, equally shapely vulva, both of which she felt proud of. She had stood in front of her bedroom mirror several time admiring the smooth, puffy lips and dreading the day its peachy prettiness would be spoiled by hair. At least now that was never going to happen!

There had been discussion about what sort of doll she should be holding. Her mother had suggested that it be as realistic as possible but Polkan had expressed concern that, if it looked too lifelike, people might assume that it had been a real baby, as real as the little girl holding it, and that might cast doubt on the guarantee he gave that all his models were willing volunteers as such a young child could clearly not have been made aware of what would happen.

Eventually, it was agreed that the baby doll, made of light wood to burn easily of course, would be featureless – more a suggestion of a baby from the girls’ imagination that a baby itself. This, Polkan pointed out, would also serve to ensure that the cuteness of the baby did not distract from the little girl’s own naked beauty. While Katie had reluctantly put her clothes back on, the contracts had been signed and a date agreed for her conversion. The night before, Polkan had told the family, he must insist that Katie stayed at the luxury on-site accommodation he kept for his models but that they were all welcome – an invitation they readily agreed to.

A little over a week later they had returned to be welcomed once more by the world-famous artist. Although she had been told she didn’t need to, Katie had chosen to go to school as normal in the days in between – she enjoyed having those last few days to spend with her friends and to brag about the beautiful piece of art she would help create. With her parents’ permission, he Head Teacher had even invited her to the front during morning assembly on her last day at school and asked if she would be willing to undress and show the pose she would be adopting for her statue. It had been thrilling enough to strip off in front of the four adults during the consultation but there she was, stark naked in front of all the children and teachers of her school, everyone looking with curiosity and fascination at her exposed young body. It truly was, to her mind, the most exciting thing that she had ever experienced and made her think of the thousands, if not millions of men, women and children who would be looking at her eternal and unchanging naked form in the years to come, not to mention those who would buy postcards or even little replicas of her statue to take home with them. The accommodation Polkan had shown them to was like a luxury holiday villa and the family had enjoyed a wonderful time with the pool and huge home cinema system. While her parents wore nice clothes as befitting a special occasion and swimsuits when they went in the pool, Katie had of course spent the entire time naked.

Even as she was led, alone this time for parents of the models were not allowed to witness their own children going through the process, to the barn-like workshop where her final performance was to take place, she still did not see it as dying. She knew of course that her life as a girl was ending but rather imagined that she was becoming the statue – that this would be a new life of sorts. After all, such words as “immortality” and “eternal” had been used liberally during their consultation, none of which evoked a sense of death or ending.

Katie had endured the uncomfortable process of having her lungs filled with oxygen-rich gel and had then proudly stepped up onto the small wooden platform that had been placed in the middle of the “stage”, as Polkan called it. The artist himself had handed her the featureless wooden doll and she had posed as they had discussed – stood straight, shoulders back proudly, looking up as if towards the clouds and her future with her long, thick brown hair in a ponytail that fell down her back. She held the large doll on one hip as she would a baby, a pose it had been designed for, and smiled as the final wall was slotted into place and the command to begin was given and the quick-drying white substance began to fill the tank.

It was a lot thinner than she expected but then she supposed it had to be to preserve every eyelash, pore and strand of hair. She had been most worried about being able to keep her eyes open but the liquid rose around her then hardened so fast it was not actually too difficult, although the stone-like substance against her eyeball did sting quite horribly.

The darkness was complete and total, far darker than anything she had experienced before, and the feeling of being trapped was almost unbearable. She could not even change the expression on her face. The hard mould pressed in against her from every side and she began to panic. Logic told her she should not be able to breath and, although she knew that the gel in her lungs was for that very purpose, she could not help trying to struggle and kick for the surface as if she was in a swimming pool. She wanted to, that is, but was utterly unable to. She wanted to scream and cry for help but could move neither her mouth nor chest, producing only a strangled, whining sound when she tried.

It was then that the full reality of her situation hit her. She was about to die. There, alone, entombed in total darkness. She wanted to get out. Wanted it to stop. She had believed that she would be immortalised, turned into a eternally-beautiful work of art but that was not what was happening. She realised that now. She was being killed. Utterly. Her body destroyed and a statue created in her image only, using as a mould the space where her beautiful young body had been. Why had she agreed to this? Asked for it even? Why had her parents gone along with it? Why was the artist even allowed to do such a thing and, more over, praised and lauded for it. This was neither peaceful nor beautiful as she had expected, it was cruel and terrifying.

From deep within her white tomb, Katie heard some kind of machinery start up and a vibrating sensation as the block was moved to the kiln. The kiln that would heat the block with the little girl trapped smiling but horrified inside to such a temperature that she would be reduced to nothing but ash.

There was a hissing sound as the kiln was turned on and the stone-like substance around her began to heat up. Katie could feel her skin burning on contact with the hot stone. She tried to scream but produced nothing but a high-pitched squeal from her throat. Through the pain, she wondered if Polkan or any of his assistants could hear her or if they would care if they could? Did the artist genuinely believe that the process was gentle for his models? That it provided a peaceful transition from life to death? Did he know about how intolerable the pain must be for them? Did he choose not to think about it or did he simply not care?

Her eyes were the first to be destroyed. At first it felt as if white-hot needles were being pushed into her exposed eyeballs then there was a sickening popping, squelching sound as they exploded in her skull. If she had been able to smell, Katie would have smelled the harsh, rancid smell of burning hair and flesh but the white stone filled her nostrils, burning her from the inside. The heath continued to increase and the pain Katie felt along with it. She hated the fact that the impression of her face would be preserved with a smile. She hated her parents for signing the forms that allowed this to be done to her. She hated Polkan and all his team for putting her through this process and most of all she hated herself for volunteering.

Surely the human body could not endure this heat and this pain? Katie could feel her blood boiling in her veins and her internal organs exploding within her abdomen. With a final strangled scream she passed into merciful oblivion and, less than a minute later, she was nothing but ash.

The next day, once the mould had cooled, the inside was sprayed out with a high-pressure air-hose to remove any remaining ash then filled with molten bronze. One week after that, the polished statue of the smiling young girl holding a blank canvas of a baby and looking with hope and joy towards her future was unveiled to the art-loving public. As well as the serenity of the pose and the feelings of happiness it evoked in those who looked at it, many people commented on the beautiful figure of the model. A little over three weeks earlier, Katie had been on a school trip to Polkan’s Paradise of Pleasures and volunteered to become one of his art-works. Now she had her wish and her beauty would be preserved for all time in gleaming bronze.

 No.20342

Hey, I didn't say it had to be cruel, just more personal, so we could watch the process from the inside, from the mind of the kids, and not just see it from outside, I wouldn't mind if they enjoyed every moment of it, but oh well… I now feel like I'm to blame for poor Katie's suffering…

 No.20343

>>20342
Hehe don't worry - I'm back to my usual trope of happy meat-girls with my current WIP :-)



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