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Amethyst's Spring Stories 2024

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Petrification

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by Shadowy Matt

_ _

Matt smiled at himself in the mirror, having made sure he looked his best before his girlfriend got home. He wanted to petrify himself – but only temporarily, of course. For how cool would it be for her to come home to find a full, life-size statue of himself, completely in the nude?

If he knew her as well as he thought he did, perhaps he would have realised that she would have found a way to keep him petrified for longer than he wanted – but that was not to end up being anything of Matt's concern. He took himself back to the bedroom and stood tall, setting the device down on the chest of drawers before him, at a good height so he could easily work it. Annoyingly for him, it would leave him frozen the moment he pressed the button, so he would have to have one arm outstretched, which was something of a problem there.

“Ah, well…" He grunted. “It'll have to do."

His hair and skin would all turn the same shade, but he wasn't too sure what colour exactly he would come out as. Not that it would matter, really, as he wouldn't be the one enjoying his form, all nude and petrified and sexy like that.

Matt shivered, lips parting. He ran his fingers back through his blonde hair, a little lighter now that more summer sun had caught it, as if he'd had highlights put in. He wanted to look perfect for her, though nerves bundled and bunched up still in the pit of his stomach.

How would it feel, however, to be locked into a statue-like form for hours? He swallowed hard, overly conscious that he wouldn't even be able to do that once he had been petrified. The sensation of hardness spreading through his body would pull him down, adding an increasing amount of weight, as if he was so heavy he was going to smash straight through the floorboards of even his bedroom.

Of course, that was not possible: it would all be in how he felt, not in any true, physical changes of his body. Those would be irrevocable, solidifying him from head to toe and rendering him helpless.

At least until she un-petrified him, but he would be at her whim and mercy until that moment.

“Ah, to hell with it."

He tried to strike a pose, his hip cocked out jauntily and his other hand resting across his other hip, fingers splayed. His cock bobbed, having swollen to full hardness while he had been deliberating over what pose to make for his girlfriend, though Matt was not to blame for that. It was a good thing he was turned on, for turning into a statue version of himself with a soft-shaped cock, even if it was hard when it was frozen into place, was not all that much of a good thing! At the very least, it was not how Matt wanted to present himself.

So, he held his pose with his hip cocked out a little, one hand gently stroking the base of his cock, as if he was in the process of pulling his hand away. With his free hand, he tapped the button on the petrification machine – and tried to pull away.

His hand remained out, a few inches from the machine, though he couldn't move. It was as if every muscle in his body had gone rigid the moment after he'd tapped that button, though Matt had seen no flash of light or heard a beeping noise – nothing at all that could have told him he was starting the process.

If he'd been able to, he would have moaned, but, as it was, the sound merely tremored in his chest, as if something that could not break free was rising from inside him. Even Matt's tongue was still in his mouth as he stiffened slowly, a dull ache rolling through his body, from his feet up.

Mmph…

_ _

Inwardly, he groaned, though couldn't make a sound; that was just something he was going to have to get used to, one way or another.

His skin felt like it was cracking – like clay soil that had become dry and baked hard under the heat of a summer sun. Everything was dry, the moisture seeping from his body, though Matt would not perish, of course, not when it was only temporary. There were so many wonderful gadgets in the world that allowed bodies to do weird things that he could have surely spent the rest of his life trying each and every last one and never found himself bored.

Matt, however, was not to know that he was trying his very last “sex toy" that day. There was no way for him to know, of course.

A slow, crackling, stony appearance spread up his body, starting at his extremities. His hair felt oddly heavy as everything about him became weighty, as if he was taking up more space in the world, making himself a greater object simply to move. Matt doubted he would even have been able to lift an arm if he'd tried, though he didn't want to.

He wanted to be still and lifeless, his entire body aching as he firmed up, the crackling effect spreading down his arm slowly, covering his wrist and then spreading teasing lines deeper and deeper. The crackling effect was like veins in how it spread, though it was very much not permitted life-giving blood to flow through his body anymore. That blood in itself became slow and sluggish within his body, even though he wanted that too.

It dulled his senses slightly, though it was impossible to tell whether that was due to the petrification or if it was simply how he was perceiving it. There was so much he didn't know about the entire process and his heart would have surged within his chest if it had been at all free to do so.

His fingers were slightly curled and so it was that they would remain exactly like that forevermore. The hairs on his legs, as the petrification took on a blue tint and pushed higher and higher, froze in place, perfectly preserved. Matt grunted silently, though he only had the impression of quivering in place. He hadn't expected such a fine, tiny detail on his body to be preserved like that, although it made sense to. Why would they simply drop off?

His hair was solid, like a crown – and not the kind of crown anyone would ever have wanted to wear, not ever. It made him want to incline his head with the sheer, sudden weight of it, though that was impossible.

Panic curled through him, although he couldn't do anything about it: it was too late to do anything. He was going to be trapped like that at least until his girlfriend came home, grunting inwardly, solidified into his own body.

It was, however, fascinating how his body condensed, the weighty feeling of his body becoming like rock absolutely draining. It was oddly tiring, something he had not honestly anticipated, though Matt couldn't even blink or close his eyes. Not that it mattered, of course, but it was eerie to even have sensations like that cut off from him, as if they were never actually supposed to be a part of his life and basic function at all.

The petrification spread down his arms, reaching his elbows and taking a hold on his biceps, up higher still to capture his triceps. Not that he could have moved them beforehand, after all, but his mind jumped all over the place, trying to take in every little sensation as if they were all going to be snatched from him.

His legs felt rooted, as if he was sinking down and down and down, down all the way into the ground. The blue-grey stone spread up his legs, over his knee, though his thighs hurt as they condensed into stone. Matt would have twisted his head and neck and groaned if he had still had the capacity to do so, yet the petrification of his body was like the worst kind of bondage.

It was not as sexy as he'd thought it would be, though his mind worked too slowly, becoming stone like the rest of his body, bit by bit. He couldn't do anything about it as his cock slowly turned to stone, even if it kind of felt like it had been that way beforehand. His balls no longer had any swing or pliability to them, no softness to them in the slightest, and the petrification pulled up his body increasingly urgently.

Little did he know that his position had knocked him off-balance already, lacking in any form of stability. More weight shifted to his right side, where he had his arm outstretched towards the box, and Matt stiffened further, petrification overcoming his face, freezing his eyeballs in place.

Yet he could still see, even if the ability to blink was taken from him, becoming more neutral in his face as the edges of his expression were softened by the smoother rounds of the stone. There would have been only some who would have been able to identify Matt from the statue he was becoming, the petrification pulling in closer to the centre of his chest. His stomach was frozen in place, organs useless, and the beat of his heart slowing and slowing and slowing.

It had been barely perceptible already but Matt was struck by a strange, prickling sensation, almost as if he wanted to itch. Of course, he couldn't scratch it away, leaving him trapped there, wanting to squirm, even when he knew, logically, the option had been taken from him.

It'll be…okay, he told himself through patient, sludgy thoughts. She will free me.

_ _

And that was the last thought he had as petrification spread through his entire body, seeking out every tiny nuance in his form, locking him in his form. His mind slipped away, even though Matt still believed all that was temporary, the last wisps of breath that had been remaining leaving his lips.

He had not even noticed how his chest solidified, robbing him of the need to breathe. Though he had not felt any pain, only strain and discomfort throughout the entire process.

If Matt had known what was coming, he would have been comforted, at the very least, that he was not in pain. But he was nothing more than a statue, grey with a blue tint, as if there was a strange element of translucency to the statue he had become.

As if in slow-motion, he tipped to the side, falling, yet unaware. He struck the chest of drawers with a solid “thunk," but it was the impact with the bedroom floor that got him. It was carpeted but only thinly and the moment he struck it, with his shoulder first, Matt was gone.

He shattered with a crash that echoed off the walls as parts of his body struck off in all directions. A hand skittered under the bed while his right calf shattered into indiscernible fragments, completely lost to him. A section of his chest still showed his musculature but his face was shattered across the right side with a big crack spreading the left corner of his remaining, semi-formed lips up in a wide, gruesome smile.

Of course, Matt may have liked the form he ended up in: the sudden end to a short rush of pleasure that was never meant to last. Yet he could never say as a sense of stillness fell over the house, knowing that a life had left it. It was only a good thing, at least for Matt, that he had experienced some pleasure through leaving.

His still-hard cock lay in testament to that, his balls left perfectly formed. It would, at the bare minimum, serve as a good dildo for his girlfriend when he was gone.

When she came home, confused as to why there was a pile of jagged rocks in the bedroom, it would be some time before his girlfriend even worked out that he was gone.

Yet Matt would not know.