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The Other Petrification

For Sanmer

By Draconicon

Brooklyn woke with the setting of the sun, and the crackling feeling of the stone coming loose from his shoulders and arms was a familiar relief from all the stillness and soreness that he felt even in the depths of his sleep. The urgency to get to his feet and just crack every single joint in his body was almost overwhelming, but knowing how Goliath and the others tended to get annoyed at the excess noise right after waking up, he managed to hold back. Barely. He still cracked his toes as he got to his feet, at least.

However, when there wasn't the sound of someone complaining, where there was no sound of his brothers and family, he realized something was wrong.

The gargoyle turned on the spot, looking down at the ground. He wasn't at the castle, wasn't at any rookery that he had managed to cut out for himself throughout the city. Instead, he had woken up in some garden, isolated from the rest of the world that he had come to know and understand since finally waking again. He looked at the grassy earth not far from him, and then at the white stone plinth in the center of the fountain holding him up.

...Someone's got bad taste in decoration, he thought. Kidnapping me to put me on this? Man, someone's got weird, weird taste.

Brooklyn shook his head, all but ready to jump down, when the ground around the fountain burst into brilliant light. He held up his hand, barely able to see the sigils of spells and runes that had been carved out of the grass, and realized that he was in more trouble than he thought.

What the hell?

Someone had brought magic into this? That wasn't his thing. He needed to -

Even as he tried to flap his wings, he knew it wouldn't work. Some slime held his feet down to the top of the fountain, keeping him from taking off. He tried to lift his leg, even managed to get his foot a few inches off the stone, but that was all. A straining set of black strands that connected his toes to the plinth thickened, and then yanked, locking his feet in place, keeping him from lifting off or even jumping down.

"Oh hell. That's - let go. Let go!"

Despite his strength, he couldn't pull himself free, and the black stuff was already starting to creep up along his legs. It covered his toes, then the tops of his feet, creeping in thinner, then thicker lines up his calves. Even as he lost his balance, almost stumbling backwards, the anchoring ooze kept him from sliding off the way that he almost wished to. It anchored him there, holding him by the ankles, the calves, all the way up to his knees; all he could do was lean back, and as the black ooze ran up his legs, it even corrected that, forcing him to stand normally.

Brooklyn had no idea what this magic was - that was Goliath's department - but he knew that this was not supposed to happen. Gargoyles were free to roam at night, even though they were trapped as stone during the day. He was...

He wasn't supposed to be trapped.

He swiped at the black goo, but it didn't do anything to free him. Instead, it just spread the ooze to his fingers, coating them in the same black. He gritted his teeth, trying to wipe it off on his belt and loincloth, but that? That was probably his biggest mistake.

It suddenly seeped beneath his clothes, finding his dick. His eyes went wide as it felt almost like a tongue spreading across his cock, attacking it with pleasurable strokes and teasing nudges, little squeezes and tight tugs that hit him hard. He slumped forward ever so slightly, his teeth clenched as he felt each little...each little tease down there.

It didn't take long for the black ooze to reach his thighs, already sending strings of thinner tendrils up to his sac. They were rubbed, then coated, getting the same sort of treatment as his dick. They felt...bigger, somehow, pulling down from their own weight, something that was very foreign to him.

What the hell...what the hell is going on?

He ripped the loincloth off, too curious to care about modesty anymore, and his eyes went wide. The black ooze had covered his cock completely, running from the tip all the way down to the base...

And it was growing.

"Holy shit..."

He couldn't help but stare at his shaft, seeing it swelling bigger, and bigger, and bigger still. It wasn't just that the ooze was covering him and getting more plentiful - though that was definitely happening, he was sure. Somehow, that ooze was making his dick bigger, too, pulling it out and making it more than big enough to fill both his hands, and then some. He shivered, holding back from touching it...but then his hand, his blackened hand, reached for it on its own.

As the black palm touched the black ooze on his cock, he could feel the dark material going up his arm. Wherever it touched, it took away his ability to move just as it had done to his legs. He was helpless against it.

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Even as it spread up his arm and over to the other one across his shoulders, he could feel it spreading down his back, and up along his ass from his legs. Soon, his entire body from the shoulders down was covered in that black ooze, pinning him in place, keeping him from moving in any way save for how it wanted him to.

And it wanted him posed, he realized. It marched him to the edge of the plinth, his toes hanging over the edge, his hands moving to either side of his cock. He almost looked like some of those little cherubs that were cheekily pissing over the edge of a fountain, except his cock was oozing something much more...adult, than that.

His eyes went back down to his dick, looking at the way that the black at the tip of the shaft peeled back, almost like a foreskin, exposing his shaft to the passing breezes. His pre-cum flowed freely, milked out by the constant tugs and teases from the black ooze, making him drip down into the fountain below. The flow never stopped, no matter how embarrassed he felt, either, just one more drop, one more drip every second.

Gotta...do something...

But what?

Just...one step...if I can take...one step...

Or even fall over. If he could hit the water, maybe...

But even that was beyond his power. Even as he threw his shoulders into it, even as he tried to swing his head forward with enough force to overbalance him, the rest of his body corrected for it. His toes curled, sinking into the stone, keeping him from moving anywhere.

And his hands kept stroking.

"Ah...ah..."

Brooklyn was panting against his will, feeling his wings spreading wide to give him a bit of counterbalance, but also to ensure that he had a perfectly exposed body for anyone that came through the garden at a later date. He groaned as his cock was lifted, grown, and lifted again, forced forward so that it was on display, too. The tip of his shaft and his head above the neck were the only things not covered by the ooze, and he had no idea how much longer that was going to be the case.

Gotta...

He couldn't even think clearly anymore. All he could do was give in to the pleasure that was rushing through him at that moment. He moaned, arching his back - no, not arching his back. He just moaned. His body couldn't move. All he could do was enjoy what was being done to him.

The ooze had already coated his ass, forcing his tail up, showing off just how muscular he was on both sides. His cock was bigger than it had any right to be, hanging down from its own weight, dripping into the water constantly. The flow of pre-cum was so extensive that it should have been all but deadly to him, but his balls churned relentlessly, somehow making more to flow through him.

He finally realized what this was for. They were making him into a decoration. Whoever had scrawled the magic out on the ground, whoever had kidnapped him, they were making sure that he would be a decoration at night as well as a petrified thing during the day.

The ooze spread further, rising up over his head, finally sealing him inside. Unlike the petrification of stone, however, he was still conscious. He could still feel all the pleasure. He could still think, still just barely see.

And that, right then, was when the garden began to fill.

Humans of all sorts, though all rich, began to pour in from the metal gate that blocked the garden off from the rest of the world. They passed in with cups of wine and champagne, came through with ties and dresses. They hustled and bustled about him, breaking off into little couples and trios, small groups and large that discussed businesses and infidelities.

It was a party, and he was the centerpiece. His cock continued to drip, and his movements were no longer free. He could only stand there, the ooze pulsing deep inside the shell that it had formed around him, keeping him stimulated and ensuring that his dick was going to keep pulsing and pissing pre-cum no matter how long he stood there. He had pushed out more pre in the last few minutes than he had been milked of in the last few centuries.

If he could have moaned, he would have.

If he could have screamed, he would have.

But instead, he was trapped as a statue, a black statue that had no freedom, no ability to move, barely the ability to think through all the pleasure that it was being forced to enjoy. More and more pulsed through his head, rising up his spine from his cock, his balls, even his ass as some of the ooze held him open back there, showing him off to those that bothered to wander behind him.

Were the humans doing this on purpose? Who had kidnapped him in the first place? Why did they want such a naked, perverted gargoyle at their party?

Brooklyn didn't know, and soon, he was too far gone to be able to think about escape, or figuring out the situation. All that mattered was his throbbing cock, the milking black rubber around it, and the feeling of being stared at on all sides. He stopped trying to squirm, and merely stared straight ahead like a good statue.

The End

Summary: Brooklyn wakes up from his daily petrification, only to suffer a very different type of bondage.

Tags: M/solo, Rubber, Latex, Edging, Teasing, Paralysis, Bondage, Petrification, Gargoyles, Brooklyn, Cock Growth, Pre-Cum,