Trapped in Stone 2. (humiliation)

The next morning, Surrey was incredibly appologetic as she washed the statue thoroughly under warm soap and water. John had spent the night thrust deep into her ass, completely buried from head to toe. He had come an additional 8 times that night, as Surrey moved, rolled over, squeezed her buns or intestinal muscles. “What kind of sicko am I?” he wondered.

As time wore on, Surrain was able to control her desires for the statue, with difficulty, although the first week was an exhausting masturbatory orgy. She eventually got on with her life and her dissertation. John went with her everywhere, either tied on a string around her neck, or sometimes (if she was feeling very wicked) tucked between her ass cheeks as she wore a tight girdle and a dress. John lost track of the degrading situations which would cause him to orgasm. In her shoes, wrapped into her hair as it was made up into a bun, thrust deep into a sweaty armpit, dangling between her legs as she urinated, trapped between the groins of two sweaty bodies as she was fucked by a one-night stand with a huge penis. He loved it. Every day was a new position, a new degredation, and 5 more climaxes.

Eventually, on the night of the next lunar eclipse, John and Surrey were enjoying one last session, with the statue thrust deep, they both climaxed. This time the orgasm was predictable, practiced, and, as ever, addictive.

“I’m going to miss you” Surrey sighed, pulling the statue from her sopping pussy and giving it a long kiss. “I have had the most wonderful, pleasurable, and exhausting time. These four months have been incredible.” She paused for a second. “But maybe this is for the best. Another month and I would have been worn out completely!”

“Hmmm… somehow, I doubt it.” John thought to himself. Even with multiple orgasms a day, somehow he never lost interest, never lost the spark, and was never tired. “Egyptian magic,” he thought simply, “is powerful.”

Surrey got out of bed and went to the window of the room. She had reserved a weekend stay at a bread and breakfast on the coast. She saw the moon directly overhead, and knew it would be about two hours before the eclipse.

“Good night, my friend.” She held John close to her bosom. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

= = = = = = = = = = = = = =

The sun rose over the hills and covered the sandy beach below with long shadows. Early morning joggers padded down the beach at the edge of the ocean.

John rolled over and flopped his arm over his eyes, blocking out the light.

After a second pause, he opened his eyes, looking at his arm.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, “It worked! It worked!” He shouted and sat up with joy. “Surrey! It worked!”

John swung his arms about in gleeful abandon.

“Surrey! Where are you?” John called for her, assuming she was in the bathroom. “Surrey?” He looked around and briefly caught an image of Surrain in the mirror on the wall.

“Surrey?” John turned around quickly, looking for her. “Wait!” He looked at the mirror again. There she was. Staring back. John lifted a hand. He looked at his fingernails.

They were painted, a nice shade of red.

“Oh no!” He bounced out of bed, and, top heavy, he fell to his hands and knees. “Shit!” He got up and ran to the mirror.

There was now no doubt: John’s spirit had been moved from the statue to Surrey’s body. He stroked his face, and, shivering, looked down at his new (or borrowed) breasts. He felt the nipples tingle as he cupped each breasts and felt its heft. John turned and then, with two steps, jumped back in bed. He felt through the covers with nervous anxiety. “Where is it?”

He found it, the statue. The carving had definitely mutated, and now there was Surrey, carved in stone, with the silly grin on her face. The statue was still sporting a huge over-sized penis, but now there were also two huge oversized breasts carved in as well.

John eyes overflowed in tears as he saw her. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry!”

John sat down heavy on the bed and held the statue to his bosoms. After a moment, his tears and frustrations subsided. He looked at the statue again.

The penis was red.

“Oh my!” Johh covered his (her?) mouth in surprise. “You’re excited?” John reached out a finger (with red nail polish) and gently stroked the penis. It quickly became purple.

“Boy, I know what that feels like!” He stroked the penis some more. The purple peaked, and then receded.

Surrey, now trapped in the statue, had already been awake for several hours.When John (“who has stolen my body!” she thought, feeling a bit cheated and frightened) finally woke up, she watched as he eventually came to the realization that they had reversed roles.

What she hadn’t counted on is reacting to John’s pleasing touch so strongly. When he held her between his bosoms, her excitement grew and she felt…. Well, hard! The general urgency and addictive desire felt the same, but she felt the entire hard rod of penis tingling to be stroked. When John realized what was happening and carressed the statue’s hard penis, she momentarily blacked out with the orgasm, and she swore she felt a powerful pulsing emanating from the penis.

The immediate urgency over, John looked at the stone figurine. Surrey looked back (being a statue, she was forced to), and they both considered their state.

“One thing I had always been wondering,” John wondered, out- loud, “was this: What ever happened to my clothes? You know, John’s clothes that night I was trapped by the statue? They were laying beside the bed, and I thought it was strange that the statue should capture both my body and my clothes…”

A pause. Surrey figured it out first, but she couldn’t say anything.

“That’s it!” He shouted, “The English son! Robert Lewis! He must have been trapped in the statue all this time, and we let him out. He must be using my body now! He put my clothes on, quietly left your apartment, and is probably back in England now… Or, he could have taken over my life… or he could be running around the countryside, totally insane.”

“That’s definitely it,” thought Surrey. “But what do we do?”

In answer to her question, John continued “Well, obviously we need to find him. I don’t know how we can force him to give my body back, but we’ll have to do something!”

John, now in Surrey’s body, gave the statue a big, wet kiss and held it close. He looked at it, noticed the carved penis turning bright pink, and then smiled an evil smile.

“But first, since Robert Lewis has already had a 4 month head start, I don’t see any harm in taking a few days of vacation in California.” John smiled a wicked smile. “After all, I have a new feminine body to explore! And I want to do some clothes shopping, some jogging, nightclubs, maybe find a man to fuck, visit a health club… and of course…” John’s smile turned positively wicked, “it’s pay-back time for all those humiliating orgasms which you made me have!”

As he reached for the phone to extend the reservation, Surrey could barely contain herself. “Oh,” she swooned, “this is going to be so much fun!” The statue’s penis turned deep red and peaked.