"You sure this powder is supposed to make the sex better?" Raymond said, holding a bag of powder.
Sean, taking off the sheets of his bed, snags the bag back. "Yup! Tony said it worked great when he fucked Rudy!"
Sean sprinkles the dust all over his bed.
"Yeah exactly! Since when has your brother ever not play a prank on us?"
Ignoring his words, Sean got on his bed, his body covered in the powder. A rush lust and pervertion flows through his body.
"Ahhh Ray, this shit's the real deal" Sean said stroking his cock. "Hurry up and fuck me!"
Prank or not, Raymond wasn't going to pass this up. He climbed onto his boyfriend and started to fuck him vigorously. Slowly the powder got onto Raymond's body. The same hot sensation fills him up as he fucks Sean faster and faster. "Ahhh ahhh" The pair moaned as they have the best sex of their lives. As the pair are wrapped up in their love making, Raymond noticed his body slowing down and becoming more stiff.
"Wha-?" Raymond turned around to see his body turning grey like stone. "Dammit I knew it was a prank!" Raymond said still fucking Sean. Sean's body also begins to turn to stone. "D-don't stop babe!" Sean moaned, "Petrification usually only lasts 24hrs. Let's get a good pose in!"
The two continued to fuck as their bodies turned to stone from the feet up. Raymond fucking Sean faster and faster to try to cum. After tge legs turned to stone their hands and arms start to turn to stone. Raymond fucked Sean faster until his moans stopped, the rest of him turning into stone. "Shit so close!" Raymond said as the last of him turns to stone. "Sorry I couldn't finish" Raymond thought. "Its ok babe this feels so good!" Sean responded, their minds linked together due to the petrification.
The door creaked open as another boy walked in, Tony, Sean's brother."Hehe" Tony smirked, "I didn't think those dumbasses would fall for that.
"Dammit Tony change us back!" Sean said in his mind.
"He can't hear us like this. . . ." Raymond sighed.
Tony then began stripping all his clothes out as he walked towards the two statues. He put his hand around Raymond's waiste and started wiggling him.
"W-what's he doing?" Raymond thought.
Feeling there is some space Tony smirked "Good you two didn't get attached to each other!" He said as he pull Raymond off of Sean and put himself between the two.
"Don't tell me!" Sean thought, seeing Tony pull out of bottle of lube and began to lube up his ass. He then massaged a bit of lube onto Raymond's dick and he proceeded to start sliding Raymond's dick inside of him. "Oh yeah, this lube's amazing, even makes statue dicks feel like flesh." He then positioned Raymond against the headboard as he began moving his ass up and down Raymond's cock. "Ohhh ohhh Ray Ray fuck me harder!" Tony moaned to himself. His cock also began to get hard. Tony looked at the statue of Sean with lust in his eyes. "Oh bro? You're jealous? It's ok I love you too!"
Tony pulled Sean over and lubed up his dick and Sean's open asshole. He begins to fuck his statue brother while riding Raymond's dick.
"Th-this is not funny!" Sean thought
"Ohhhh ohhhh this is actually pretty hot babe" Raymond responded.
Sean tries to deny it but he is enjoying his brother fucking him as he laid there helpless.
As Tony was enjoying his impromptu threesome he started hearing a small crack by his feet. He stared looked at his legs as he also began to turn to stone as well. "Oh shit, they used THIS much powder?" Tony panicked and looked around the room, he spots the antidote bottle sticking out of his pant's pocket. The pants were on the other side of the room, too far for him to reach. "Fuck you idiots!" Tony said fucking Sean faster "If I'm turning to stone, I'm gonna finish!"
"You better not! ahhh~" Sean thought as he finally started to enjoy his brother's cock.
"Ahhh~" Tony moaned as he unleashed his load into Sean. Pumps of cum flew out of his cock and leaked out of his brother's ass as he turns to stone, his face stuck in an orgasm face.
"You BRAT!" Sean thought.
"W-what?! You guys were conscious this whole time?!" Tony panicked.
"Yeah you idiot!" Sean thought. "Fuck I can feel your cum in my cracks!"
"Oh Tony feel free to do this to me whenever~" Raymond thought seductively.
"Shit. . . " Tony thought.
"When we are free I'm gonna-" Sean thought.
Suddenly, a large truck passed by their house. The walls shook as it passed. On the soft bed, the three statues lost their balance and fell to the ground, shattering into pieces. Their bodies scattered across the room bits and pieces of them mixed together.
"Fuck! How long is it gonna take our bodies to turn back to normal now?" Sean thought.
"Well if Rudy finds us, he can use his magic to speed up the process. . .he'll come eventually. . . " Raymond thought "But this is also so hot, my face is on both of your asses~"
A short story showcasing the daily life of a living statue, and its view on things. Click below to read the full story.
A soft breeze… I feel…
Caressing me gently.
The sun light… Creeping in.
Feeling my eyes, bringing me to see.
And see I do, and what I see is myself once again, my reflection right in front of me. I let my eyes roll over myself once more, appreciating my body. My features. And of course, my pedestal. The pedestal my Mistress choose for me, and I'm never getting off it, for I am my Mistress' most prized work of art.
My eyes goes on, rolling over me, over my body, that fire I once felt is still there, deep inside my chest. But now it's under control, for it's a fire only for my Mistress. But still, when my exposed body meets my eyes, the fire threats to burn, to burn away at all my emotions, to make me crave attention, to crave everyone's eyes. And all I can do is keep looking at myself, as I can't move, I can't help it but appreciate myself, my rigid, stone body. That is right, I am my Mistress' statue.
On top of the pedestal I stood, with my feet next to each other and my legs straight, slightly leaning forward, my arms invite the fictional viewer to an imaginary dance. Some days I'm exposed fully, with just my Mistress' jewelry gifts to cover me, but today I had something else entirely. My feet each had boots covering them, with a long shaft, the collar nears my knees, decorated all the way down with laces, holding the tongue in place. The boots were dyed a dark red colour, my Mistress said red is just my colour and I must agree with her. Going up over my body there is my new body suit, also red in colour, it covers from my between legs to my chest, leaving both of them and my tummy to my viewer's imagination. Well, not much really as the suit firmly embraces my body, taking kindly to it's shape, almost betraying it's function as cover by giving out the curves of my chest, my nipples, even my tummy's and vulva. Betraying the secret of my nipple rings, and my red gem above my vulva. Everything is seen but not seen at the same time. My arms are not covered but instead are adorned with various jewelry, all silver in colour forming the illusion of a long sleeve going all the way to the rings in my fingers back to my shoulder and the collar in my neck. On my head lies my silver tiara, now complemented by a new, long ribbon "tied" to my stone hair.
Even though today I'm facing the mirror, there are days my Mistress allows me to face her workshop, and I get to see her work. Today I can only hear and imagine, but I have seen her work on various projects, ranging from her own works on sculptures to even mentoring others at their own works. My thoughts are interrupted by a feeling… A most familiar feeling enveloping my legs… It's my Mistress, her arms are wrapped over me, gently resting herself on top of me. I tried to look down to see her, is she tired?
"Ah, my precious statue, I am sorry for startling you. May I rest for a bit here at your glorious presence?"
She giggles to herself, as I can't really answer her, but of course she can, she always may rest on me always use me for what she needs, I'm hers.
"Thank you, dear… I will… Just a moment…"
And there she stays, gently leaned against me, my stiff legs can take her, it's not as my Mistress is putting any force against me, even now she still handles me with care. But still… I feel her… I feel her against me… Pressed… My boots… All of her feelings… my mind drifts off.
Some time later I begin to see again, this time I see my Mistress in front of me, or rather, in front of the mirror. She seems to be doing some final adjustments to her outfit, perhaps she be going out again, she didn't say what it is, though. But I don't have to know, if my Mistress is happy then so I shall be, and I see the smile on her face, with a small peek through the mirror's reflection I see her smile, I see just how rested she looks, ready to face another day. And I know it's thanks to me, her prized statue, she may always lean on me when she needs a little step back to push forward. But as her gaze fades… So does my presence… But soon, I'll be back into her eyes… Into her gaze… Time doesn't pass when I'm not seen, and soon everything is still. Even my mind and thoughts go… Blank. In a relief from my own existence. Back when I was alive I had always been rather… Active or so to speak. Doing tasks and helping around. I always had my Mistress' priorities as my own. She gave me a life and I was grateful for her, still am, always will be. I always had her in my mind, never a minute to spare. But now, all goes quiet, my mind rests, my existence rests until it's needed again. Her prized statue is here, waiting patiently, waiting even after I could not. Waiting to serve. Waiting to service. Always ready. Existence as a statue is peaceful. One where I am here only when I really am needed, and needed I am. For my Mistress' eyes, for her gaze, to satisfy her, to please her, to serve her, to support her. To be her statue.
My eyes meets my Mistress', she is back to her workshop. With a smile she greets me, and following behind her is someone else. At first I paid them no mind, it could be just someone for a meeting with her, and as all of them do, when they do see me seeing I'm often kept just for my Mistress' eyes, they compliment me. Though I pay them no mind, often they only say words to please my Mistress, for she is a renowned artist and professional, there are always those trying to get into her good side. But something seemed different this time. They were made to sit in a chair in the middle of the workshop, all for me to see, it seems. With a side view of the scene I could see both of them, the person, and my Mistress in front of them. She had her sculpting tools ready, and her work attire. And at once she began. I could hear them. Her words. Her commands. I couldn't make out them but I could hear them. Her words spiralling inside my mind. Holding my attention. My mind was quickly taken by each and every of her spoken commands. All I had to do is obey my Mistress, as I always do, as I always did, pay attention to her, to all she was doing, to everything in her. This feeling of obedience I always had in my heart, and it always swells when I hear her voice. Just as it did when my Mistress turned me. The fateful day I turned into her prized statue. And then another command. I see her working. The person in front of her completely still. They don't move, they don't react. They are still, just like me, obeying obediently. I know what comes next, and before I could even think it, it happened. The person's feet began to turn, to loss it's color, but unlike me it turned white, a perfectly smooth white. And the white went on, climbing the person's body, an inch at time, slowly overtaking the colour of life in their body. I hadn't realised, but they really were naked before me, and I see their legs, now completely white, completely smooth. And soon their tummy, then their torso. Their flat tummy almost shines in it's smoothness, where I close enough I could perhaps see my reflection in it. I try to see it, admiring the person's tummy, as the transformation takes hold of them. Climbing even higher reaching their chest. Then their arms and finally their hands. I take a good look at their hands, their delicate fingers, the gentle form, for a moment I'm taken by it's definitive beauty. I know what this is, it's an artist's hand, and just like my Mistress they too have beautiful hands. Oh, my Mistress' hands, to feel her touch, to feel her fingers on me, caressing me. Before I realised, the person has been completely turned into a marble statue, though I had not seen it, their head and hair was solid and smooth now as well. This statue had a beautiful balance to it, a balance between curves and lines, of voluptuous and flat.
My admiration is cut short when I noticed my Mistress walking around, she brought back a pedestal, not too unlike my own, and with it she began working. I had little attention to the hows of it, admiring the new statue instead, but soon it was on top of the pedestal. Standing in place with it's right hand gently tucked beneath it's hair, and left hand resting near its thigh. A simple pose but perfect for gazing at the statue's beauty. But soon enough my Mistress began wrapping it in a box, and sealed away from my eyes it was. With a smirk she says "it's off to the museum with this one." I see it now, so it was a commission after all. "They were really excited to be a statue as well, but don't worry, your place is right here with me, my beloved statue.". And off she goes, I would be smiling silly and blushing red were I not stone. It always swells my heart with pride and joy to know I am my Mistress' most beloved artwork. But as she goes, so does my mind, slowly blanking, until my beloved Mistress is back again.
Note: Female characters who get transformed into dolls, mannequins, puppets, statues, robots, etc. in one way or another. Agalmatophilia, gorgonization, petrification, crystallization, whatever. Be free to suggest more. Here’s the male list.
Charmaine Diyoza from The 100
Catherine Madison from Buffy the Vampire Slayer (“Witch”)
Tiffany Valentine from Child’s Play franchise
Truly Scrumptious from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Brynn from Dave Made a Maze
Ella Ashen from Dead Silence
Mary Shaw from Dead Silence
Jackie Tyler from Doctor Who (“The Age of Steel”)
Weeping Angels from Doctor Who
Rosemary Bower from Dolls
Enid from Dolls
Isabel from Dolls
Kathy Quinn from Goosebumps 2: Haunted Halloween
Sascha Cass from The Gorgon
Nebula from Guardians of the Galaxy
Bellatrix Lestrange from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - Part 2
Joan Gale from House of Wax
GALI from I’m Alive
Eve from Life-Size
Nami from One Piece (Added 4/13/2026.)
Miss Valentine from One Piece (Added 4/13/2026.)
Nerfertari Vivi from One Piece (Added 4/13/2026.)
hysterical woman from Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief
Maya from Power Rangers Lost Galaxy (“Mean Wheels Mantis”)
Kendrix Morgan from Power Rangers Lost Galaxy (“Mean Wheels Mantis”)
Cassie Chan from Power Rangers Lost in Space (“T.J.’s Identity Crisis”)
Ashley Hammond from Power Rangers Lost in Space (“T.J.’s Identity Crisis”)
Madison Rocca from Power Rangers Mystic Force (“Rock Solid”)
various brides from Power Rangers Wild Force (“Three’s a Crowd”)
Camille Kenney from Puppet Master II
Akasha from Queen of the Damned
Maharet from Queen of the Damned
Columbia from The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Janet Weiss from The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Hilda Spellman from Sabrina the Teenage Witch (“I Fall to Pieces”)
Ariella from Wishmaster
Calico Woman from Wizard’s of Waverly Place (“Alex’s Spring Fling”)
“Dude, no pics at the pool!” he shouted, his bulking physique towering over my average figure. “Fucking creep.”
I headed back to the lockers as I fanned the Polaroid picture I had taken. As soon as I found an empty booth, I got in and started the ritual: spread the mixture of salvia, ash, and Brad’s cum (cordially donated by my good friend Tony, another guy in the swimming team) over his picture, then burn it with a lighter and breathe in the smokes.
As soon as the scent hit my nostrils, my entire body spasmed violently. Then again. And again. With each spams, my muscles swelled larger and larger. I needed to lean on the wall to balance myself as my centre of gravity shifted. When my palm touched the tiled wall, I noticed that it was bigger, thicker, more solid. Solid enough to bully other guys through their college years, that’s for sure.
As the rest of my frame settled, I felt my cock and ass grow to match Brad’s. The sensation was too much for me to handle and I started jerking off viciously. As my changes reached completion, I reached climax. I moaned like nobody was listening, but then heard someone else moaning in the showers.
I slowly opened the door to see who it was...
----------
“Dude, no pics at the pool!” I shouted at Billy, his beady eyes ogling my body as he lowered his Polaroid camera. “Fucking creep.”
He scuttled away into the lockers. I thought of going back into the water but that annoying faggot had completely took me out of the zone. Fuck it, he needs to know. I strode towards the lockers, ready to give him a good beating.
As I entered the lockers, I felt a sudden cold. Like all the heat in my body was slowly leaving me. It was disconcerting and almost painful. I headed to the showers to see if the hot water could help but the sensation only got worse and worse. All my muscles felt tense and stiff like a full-body cramp.
Then I saw it. My toes were grey. Stone grey. I tried to wiggle them but they wouldn’t budge. The change quickly rose up my calves and knees. When it reached my thighs I started to feel an insurmountable pressure in my ballsack, as if I had been jerking off and edging for hours. As the greyness enveloped my groin I felt this pressure travel through my cock and...
I came so hard, I couldn’t help but moan. The pleasure was unlike anything I’d felt. It was still going... and going... and going!
I looked down, still moaning uncontrollably, and saw my cock. My rock-hard cock, literally made of rock, with a jet of crystallised cum attached to the tip. Panic tried to take over me but the waves of pleasure just kept hitting me. As the changes reached my upper chest and shoulders, I gabbed my cock with both my hands to see if I could make it stop cumming, but the sensation on my rocky skin felt so good I started jerking. It didn’t last though, my hands freezing mid-motion.
Finally the changes reached my head. My moans stopped, my mouth froze in place, and my eyes clouded up. Just before I lost my hearing, I heard the door to one of the booths open...
----------
...it was Brad. Or what was left of Brad: a beautiful statue, six foot two, sporting a mighty hard-on. He looked so gorgeous, even in his current state. I walked towards him when I noticed my reflection in one of the mirrors: Brad was looking back at me but, instead of his usual aggressive look, he now seemed friendly and approachable.
I stood beside the statue and placed my hand on his chiselled abs. (Chiselled. Ha.) I could feel it vibrating, alive and conscious. According to the spell, the victim would be trapped in an eternal orgasm. I touched Brad’s member and thought to myself: hmm, that doesn’t seem fitting. I know!
Prod.
Push.
Crash.
And I walked out of the showers, trying not to step on any bits of Brad.
A short story about someone unhappy with their body and their journey of self realization. Click below to read the full story.
Yet again I found myself on those quiet neighbours, walking by what little stores were still open this late at night. For me, this peaceful night was just right as there were not a single person around to look at me, and I couldn't see myself on reflections such as on stores’ windows. Even then I still wore my face mask and my hoodie, covering as much of my body and face I could. The face mask often made people think I'm sick, which is just great as that means people leave me alone for the most of the time.
And just like that I roamed. Every other night I found myself lost in the asleep neighbour alone with my thoughts. “A smile fits you better, sweetheart” is something I often heard, not surprisingly as I had won a few beauty competitions by now, though not out of my own volition as family and friends insisted I “show off my natural beauty”. Exposing my body in such ways never felt right to me, it always felt as if others only wanted me to be “beautiful” for their own ends. Walking down the catwalk always had me feel as a mere object for others’ pleasure. Each time I showed myself I could feel the piercing gaze of the spectators, and of those near me when I am out of my safe zone, their lust deafening me to all my others senses, blinding me to anything but the unwanted attention and desire. An overwhelming feeling. And as years passed my body only kept developing and things only seemed to worsen. That is why the deep night is one of the only safe places for me.
This week was my 20th anniversary, and I was supposed to find myself some form of gift. Others always give me the bare minimum of outfits - you guessed it: so they can see more of me. Last year all I got were various swimsuits and lingerie, and due to how my body grew they barely fitted. My chest has gotten large enough those outfits squeeze me tightly… It hurts and some even tore apart from the constant pressure… And let me not get started on the bottoms part of such outfits… They often carve against my skin trying to find any form of opening to slip up between my legs… All of that together with the constant need to care for nails, hair, skin, body… It sapped my strength to do just anything else, much to my dismay as I always had… Creative ideas… There has always been many things I want to create but never had the will to… Maybe then people would see me not for my sexual appeal but rather for the things I actually do… If only...
My thoughts were interrupted when I saw a poster on some wall about an upcoming art fair. There they were going to present various new artists, and the best part? It was actually tomorrow! This sounded like the perfect excuse to slip away from my ordinary for a good change of pace. So I took the poster and went back to my small apartment with it in hand. Perhaps one of the only good things about this life is I can afford SOME things, that is when my family isn't trying to suck my income dry with the sorry excuse of “they gave me this life and made this dream reality". Right.
For the art fair I dressed as ordinary as I could with my old oversized hoodie and old baggy pants, my long hair tied into a bun and tucked inside the hood. To be honest, I bought those from a casual attire store for males, why is it we are not allowed those much more comfortable outfits rather than those skin-digging atrocities? At first I just strolled aimlessly looking at the different artworks displayed at the stalls, there were some beautiful works of art as well as many great crafts such as outfits and furnitures, but what truly caught my eyes was this statue of a ballerina on a stone pedestal adorned with a bronze plaquette, there was something written on it… Her name? I couldn't read from here. She was so perfectly sculpted I barely believed she was an actual statue made of cold stone and not a living person posing on a pedestal. With one of her legs held high and the lack of any outfits at all, all of her precious details were laid before everyone else's eyes. I knew this was it, I had to learn more about this outstanding sculptor so I seeked the artist and to my surprise it was a tall lady who was behind this work of art. Honestly I don’t know why the surprised, I don’t know what I was expecting to find.
The sculptor lady and I talked about her artwork for a moment, I was utterly surprised to learn it was her first work with statues at all though she worked on other projects in the past. I wanted to book a visit to her workshop but she seemed to be gaining a lot of attention as all of the following month was already booked. I thought to myself for a moment and decided the wait was worth it. It won't be something happening at the exact day of my birthday but it was something to look forward to. Afterwards I stayed at the fair for a little longer admiring the various artworks, and the ballerina statue some more before returning home for the night. Oddly enough each time I looked at the statue I could feel something clicking in my mind… As if the statue… Squirmed? I must be tired from this brand new adventure, there is simply no way the statue could be alive… Could there? I couldn't help it but to keep looking, staring even, admiring the statue. I could feel my eyes magnetically attracted to each and every part of her body. I was not entirely sure what was happening but there was definitely something with that statue.
The following days were spent doing my usual routine. Sneaking out for a breather whenever I had the chance and saving money for the upcoming appointment with the sculptor lady whenever I was not pinned against my "duty" to my family. As well as thinking about that most particular statue and her perfectly sculpted slender body. I somehow found myself often daydreaming- or rather: "night dreaming" about her in various outfits… Outfits handcrafted by… Is this how someone feels when dressing up a mannequin? No, this can't be right? But not only did I imagine the statue dressed up I also imagined the actual outfits, many different outfits, it was as if an inspiration rush had took over my mind as I planned all of them in my thoughts, it's a real shame I couldn't put those ideas in practice just yet. But still I dreamt on. With a body like hers it must be much easier fitting outfits to her… Without such… Disproportions, or so to speak…
With so much in my mind I often found myself scribbling my thoughts down on my journal. Quickly it found all of its pages covered in doodles of my ideas… My… Inspiration… Even if this would lead me nowhere it still felt liberating to have some form of… Past time. Yes, thinking about the marvelous statue and her possible outfits were merely a way to pass time… To occupy myself amidst the living hell that was my daily routine. When my outfits squeezed my body I scribbled about baggy outfits instead. When my garments carved against my skin I doodled breathable clothes. I tinkered with different designs and themes. Office wear. Casual wear. Delicate wear... Anything that, even for just a moment, distract me from the catwalk. Although not all concepts felt right I figured some were still worth my free time… When I least expected it I found myself at the sculptor lady's workshop.
"Welcome dear" She greeted me.
"Shall we have some tea while we chat?"
"Th-hank you…" I responded, feeling a bit shy at first.
I followed her inside her workshop as she went to prepare the tea. I sat by a free table and took a moment to look at my surroundings. As I somewhat expected, her place was quite a mess, with many tools and materials around, I could easily tell she really has been busy with her craft. Around the area there were some pedestals as well, each unique in a little way, each of them waiting for their statues to come. One in particular stood out to me: it was made of stone, and instead of having a name plaquette adorned on it, it had a carving near it's base. It was a very humble pedestal, perhaps for an equally humble statue? Speaking of statues, there was one statue adorning the sculptor lady's workshop. It looked very similar to the statue I saw back at the art fair… Her face… Her body… Everything about her looked exactly the same, just this time she had a different pose… Both of her feet were firmly on her pedestal now and her legs were flexed a little bit, with her arms on front of her it looked like she was ready to embrace her dance partner. I couldn't help but instinctively ask:
"Are they… The same model?"
"Why, yes, dear!" The sculptor lady answered, as she bought with her a tray with tea cups.
"She is my apprentice, and I just love to model her, she always makes for a very beautiful statue, doesn't she?"
"She truly is… I couldn't help but admire her slender beauty during the art fair." I said trying to face away while sipping the tea.
"And she made me proud during the art fair, I really couldn't ask for a better model, and I am sure she couldn't be happier modelling for me like this."
As I heard the sculptor lady talking about her apprentice a wave of… Feelings rushed through my body. With a soft sigh words seemed to come out by themselves, revealing myself to my host…
"What wouldn't I do… To make someone proud for once…"
And with that I explained… I told the sculptor lady about my story, about how my family and relatives abused me for my body, about how I was seen as ungrateful for not submitting wholly to them, about how they kept trying to manipulate my income… And she listened… Patiently and carefully, she did not say a word until I was done… I must admit I was surprised, in a good way. After listening to me she then asked me a question that hit right through my heart…
"What would you rather be doing then, dear?"
And all I could do in response was gather what strength I had to stand up and mutter weakly:
"Clo-…-thes…"
"You want to sew clothes!" The sculptor lady exclaimed.
"That is just too adorable, dear. Oh, you know, why don't you come visit more often? Then you could begin making clothes and try them out on my statues, like mannequins."
Wait, what? Just like that?! It couldn't possibly be this simple… According to my family I'm just an ungrateful child so surely I didn't deserve all of this good attention, so in a fear of rebuke I tried to protest but the sculptor lady reassured me she had a plan to fool them: if I had trouble with my outfits then learning to make my own would be "beneficial" because then I would make outfits I myself approved of… I couldn't really argue with such login so I decided I had no choice but to give it a go. WIth all of that decided, the sculptor lady prepared a letter and instructed me to hand it to my parents and with it in hand she sent me off back home. I was really nervous about all of this, I just knew that my life would certainly change in almost unspeakable ways… And the thought of seeing that statue again… Seeing her slender figure… In contrast to mine…
The following night I was to return to the workshop. This time the sculptor lady greeted me with some books, all on the subject of outfits making. Over tea she studied with me and soon enough I decided I was ready for my first piece. Even if just a simple shirt did not seem very exciting, I still had to begin somewhere. The following nights I kept on visiting her workshop to continue my studies and work on this first project. At first I had trouble handling my tools such as rulers and scissors, it was hard to draw and cut the patterns and to properly cut the clothes. I felt like I was in a constant fight with my own "well developed" body. Walking by the work desks and balcony was constantly awkward as my chest and hips often hit things off them, and with my chest it was hard to properly sit by the desk to work as it. And because of how my body was I barely seemed to fit on chairs and the desk height felt all wrong. It truly was a struggle to just do what seemed like simple tasks. It all frustrated me so much. This body of mine frustrated me so much. Often I thought of giving up and just submitting to the poor life ahead of me but the sculptor lady was always there. She always had something to say to reassure me. Be it with her own stories of difficult situations or with stories of how things would get better. And before I even noticed it my first shirt was completed. It was just a basic piece made out of black clothes, it didn't really look good but we still went with the original plan and I had the statue try it out. As weird as it may sound it definitely felt like the statue looked back at me when I looked at her… Even if her eyes didn't move at all. I was sure my mind were just playing tricks on me, as some twisted form of coping with what was going on but as I touched the statue and had her wear the shirt I made, I was certain she had squirmed… I could even feel as if she were blushing from having something specially made for her, even if it was some utter garbage… Yes, the shirt I made was pretty bad but she was happy, the statue was happy, right…?
The sculptor lady once again sweetened my mood with her well spoke words: "it's just your first piece, dear, yet look how much you already improved! From having trouble dealing with the materials to actually making a piece someone could wear. I'm proud of you, dear." And wow, what effect did her words had on me. Each time I heard those little magical words I felt my body full of energy ready to work again, so I kept coming back to her workshop each night to persist my studies. Though from time to time there was a different statue of the sculptor's lady apprentice in a different pose… How conveniently posed for me to try out different outfits.
It didn't happen overnight, it didn't happen through a few days. It took time but eventually with time my skills did seem to improve. From making that one shirt to making coats, jackets, sweaters and just anything in between. I lost the count of how many nights I spent under the tutelage of the sculptor lady, and I'm sure if it weren't for her constant support I wouldn't be able to pursue this. The life my family forced me to live didn't weight as much on my shoulders as before now that I had a goal… A purpose… Something to look forward too each day. And with time I moved on to new designs… Pants, gloves, scarves, skirts, dresses… I tried out making a bit of everything, and with time I came to realise that certain outfits weren't exactly bad for being revealing or accentuating body parts but rather because they were simply poorly made, they weren't made to fit MY body per say but rather just whatever. Just goes to show how much they really cared about me if they never took the time to take my measurements for proper clothes. Eventually I began making clothes specifically to fit the apprentice's statue, and I felt as I had took a big step towards understanding everything that has been going on with me. As my skill developed I began making new outfits for myself, but what a struggle it was… Not only did I have to struggle against my body because of its… Proportions, as I had previously so far, but did I also realise how hard it was to fit just anything… It wasn't just any outfit that seemed to fit my shape, as often the designs looked stretched out and deformed. As a model I was used to see people of different body shapes, and I knew that outfits could work even with more… Abundant bodies. But still those refused to work on me. But before my frustated could grow too much, the sculptor lady approached me.
At first we simply talked about my difficulties at my craft due to my body, specially when it came to its size discrepancy to everything else, it was almost as I was too big for this world. Or rather: the world was made too small for me. Then she asked me a most perplexing question:
"Would things be different had you been born under a different body?"
I pondered… Everything I do seems to be centered on my body, from how my relationship with my family is to what profession I have to my hobbies. Thinking back had I not be born the way I am I wouldn't be here seaming outfits with my mentor.
"I think… Yes… Had I been born under a different body my life would be different altogether, and who knows what it would be like… However…" I responded to her.
"Yes? What is it? Tell me what is in your mind, dear."
"Well… And so would it be if I was able to change my body from tonight onwards…"
"Is that so?" She giggled as she asked, and before I could answer she continued
"Would you like to reshape your body? To something a bit more… Petite?"
Without really giving it much thought to the consequences of what I was doing, I simply nodded to the sculptor lady in agreement and to my surprise she responded by offering her hand, which I took in mine. She then guided me to a different room in her workshop, one with much open space and a work table and chairs. She pulled one of the chairs to the middle of the room and had me sit down on it. Then she stood in front of me and without further ado she produced a small deep blue coloured crystal pendant out of one of her pockets which she began to swing in front of my face.
I could hear her voice instructing me on what to do:
To take deep, slow breathes as I let my mind wander for a second.
To slow down… Forget my worries for a moment… Let myself relax… Relax under her care… Let my mind… Slip away…
With each breath of mine….
Slowly my body stops moving…
There was no need to move on my own…
My mentor would take care of me…
Pose me as she felt fit…
…
…
I trust her…
…
…
I hear the sound of her fingers snapping me awaken.
In front of me nothing but a wall mirror, and reflected on it I found my own self in it's entirety! From toes to hair I could see each part of me, fully exposed! Just what was going on? That is when I realised my body did go stiff. I couldn't move out of my pose, which thankfully was somewhat humble as I simply had a standing pose with my arms to my sides, and to my surprise I was on top of that one stone pedestal I saw on my first night here, it felt almost like an ironic contrast between my certainly not modest body on top of the humble pedestal. For a brief moment my mind almost panicked but then my mentor's words echoed inside my head as I remembered her commands. My mind slowed down and I took a deep breath as I was reminded I was under her care, there was no need to worry, she knows what she is doing. After my mind fully calmed down the truth sank in: my body had been turned to stone similar as her apprentice's statue! Just that myself had a more clay like appearance.
I was right after all… The statue WAS real and it was her apprentice nonetheless. It's no wonder the statue always felt so real and full of life, she was under the absolute care of the one she trusted the most. And the impression I had the statue was happy to be seen and to receive gifts of clothes… She really was happy, wasn't her? Just… How came she had different poses? A wicked feeling told me I was about to find out.
I felt something tickle inside my brain as I heard the command reshape for me, dear. My eyes immediately shut down and I couldn't see anything anymore. I became aware of my whole body as if it was turned into one single blob of clay as my sense of self turn into one singular perception, feeling my mentor's touch over the entirety of me.
I felt her touch me. A gentle touch. It does not hurt.
Rub me. Her hands running through my clay-like being.
Knead me. Forming me beneath her fingers.
Shape me. I'm all hers.
As I felt her handling me the feeling of my own body came back piece by piece. I felt my arms and legs being pulled back into shape and my face caressed into its frame. I felt as myself becoming smaller, as some of me was pulled out of my body. It did not hurt, rather it felt as a weight was plucked out of my shoulders. Then my mind tickled again as the command take form, dear rushed through my brain. I felt my body stiffen for a moment then regain it's usual feel. My vision came back as I opened my eyes letting the light flow in once again. In front of me again the same mirror and in its reflection another person. Their face was somewhat more robust than mine but still seemed delicate with short shoulder-length bangs. Their shoulders were narrow with gentle arms coming out of them. I could tell their touch was tender just from seeing their soft hands and fingers. Their chest and tummy were a simple smooth surface as opposed to my own. Their legs were slender in figure, and between them there was no vulva to be found but rather a petite penis. From the reflection I could tell they were much shorter than me. I kept staring on at this new person for a moment until the realization came to me: this person was me! I Really was reshaped and took form according to my mentor's wishes.
But was I really…?
Could I…?
I struggled to keep my thoughts…
A rush of euphoria took over my senses…
Suddenly I felt my mentor's touch again, just this time it was just her hand feeling me gently. Each time she touched me I felt my skin take back it's vigorous tone again. From my face down to my toes soon my body was back from stone. As I felt my movement come back to me I felt weak on my legs, without being able to resist I fell on my knees and into her open arms. Curling up into her embrace, I just stayed there feeling her arms around my limb body.
Sobbing.
Unable to express my gratitude to her. But it was okay, I knew I didn't have to say anything just now, just like how I trusted her she trusted me, otherwise she wouldn't go through such lengths just for me.
It took me a good while but I finally regained my composure. I stood up and looked at my mentor with newfound resolve.
"Shall we work towards my new outfit?" I asked her.
"Yes, dear, I'll be with you through all of it."
And thus I rushed back to the drawing table to draw new designs under my new measurements. I didn't even care for the fact I was naked for I did not feel any shame in my body in this state. Rather, I felt joy to feel my body feel so light and nimble. I fit into the drawing table much better under my new shorter height and my body didn't push anything anymore. Soon enough I made a new pair of pants and undies as well as a shirt for myself. I made sure to design them with some breathing space in mind so they fit me nicely, I felt I could dance inside this new outfit, I didn't feel it struggling against my body as I did before. As I had many new ideas I wanted to try on myself I decided I stay over at the workshop working on new designs, I wrote a letter home explaining the situation and went back to my craft. I believe my family disowned me as I never got a reply and nobody ever came visit me. My mentor arranged for a room for me to sleep over at some couch and with time we began to sell some of my works, be them with statues or by themselves. With time I also made new outfits for the both of us, as well to the beloved statue. And in particular without my constant discomfort with my body I was able to better appreciate the outfits I made. From the elegance of dresses to the simplicity of pants and skirts to the audacity of swimsuits, one pieces and two pieces alike, even if I didn't need to cover my top necessarily I still felt I should. I was able to better understand my outfits and redesign them with comfort in mind while keeping their functions. Bottoms didn't carve against my skin anymore, tops better embraced my chest. Arms, shoulders and legs had room to breathe and articulate freely. And any time I wanted a good look at myself my mistress would simply turn me back to stone for hours… Days…. Maybe even weeks. Being frozen in place in different poses always offered the perfect view over whichever body part I was focusing on for the next piece of outfit I had in mind. Sometimes my mistress would even turn me back to my old self as I have learnt to not hate or shame it anymore, it's not my body's fault I had issues, but rather my family's poor understanding of my needs. And so I had decided I would also make outfits for those who also had well developed bodies since what they might be missing to feel comfortable in their bodies is just the properly made outfit. But still, whenever we had visitors for any of our works I would don my petite body, it just didn't feel right to expose myself, even if I felt comfort in my body and in various different outfits, I realised I could wear them just for myself, I didn't need anyone's approval.
Note: Male characters who get transformed into dolls, mannequins, puppets, statues, robots, etc. in one way or another. Agalmatophilia, gorgonization, petrification, crystallization, whatever. Be free to suggest more!
Dr. Capel-Smith from Are You Afraid of the Dark? (“The Tale of the Guardian’s Curse”)
Charles Lee Ray from the Child’s Play franchise
Caractacus Potts from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang
Mr. Tumnus from The Chronicles of Narnia: The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe
Draco from Clash of the Titans 2010
Eusabios from Clash of the Titans 2010
Ixas from Clash of the Titans 2010
Kraken from Clash of the Titans 2010
Edward Ashen from Dead Silence
Jamie Ashen from Dead Silence
John Lumic from Doctor Who (“The Age of Steel”)
Jeremy Baines from Doctor Who (“The Family of Blood”)
David Bower from Dolls
Major McCall from Goosebumps (“Revenge of the Lawn Gnomes”)
Jules Heitz from The Gorgon
Paul Heitz from The Gorgon
Dr. Namaroff from The Gorgon
Nearly Headless Nick from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
Wade Felton from House of Wax
Prince 1 from Jim Henson’s The Storyteller
Prince 2 from Jim Henson’s The Storyteller
Atlas from Jim Henson’s The Storyteller: Greek Myths
Polydectus from Jim Henson’s The Storyteller: Greek Myths
Curtis Mooney from Killer Klowns from Outer Space
Kao from Medusa
Phillip Anderson from A Nightmare on Elm Street 3: Dream Warriors
Zoro Roronoa from One Piece (Added 4/13/2026.)
Gabe Ugliano from Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief
Ollie Akana from Power Rangers Dino Fury (“Lost Signal”)
various from Power Rangers Dino Fury (“Lost Signal”)
Zayto from Power Rangers Dino Fury (“Lost Signal”)
Carlos Vallerte from Power Rangers Lost in Space (“T.J’s Identity Crisis”)
André Toulon from Puppet Master II
various from Return to Oz
Rocky Horror from The Rocky Horror Picture Show
Tommy Milner from Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark
Han Solo from Star Wars Episode V — The Empire Strikes Back
Peter Hale from Teen Wolf (“The Wolves of War”)
Jerry from Tourist Trap
Jerry Etherson from The Twilight Zone (“The Dummy”)
guy who becomes part of stone wall from Wishmaster
Manny Kin from Wizards of Waverly Place (“Alex’s Spring Fling”)
