113. At Least Amy Has Company
Amy tightens her grip on the mirror's handle and, in a last act of desperation, closes her eyes, turns her head, and holds it up to the gorgon that now straddles her.
The gorgon laughs.
“Foolish girl!” With a flick of the gorgon's wrist, the mirror is sent flying. “You think I can be defeated by a mirror? If my reflection does not harm you, why would it harm me?” Amy realizes that this makes total sense and wishes she had thought of it sooner.
“Now, then, what shall I do with you? You realize, of course, that you cannot be afforded a single scrap of dignity. Little girls who make me run, who cut me up, who make me work don't have the honor of simply being turned into a statue as-is.” She grabs Amy's chin in her right hand, studying the face of the trembling girl that now lies in her clutches. Amy keeps her eyes shut tight; her body shudders involuntarily as it hits her that she is now utterly defenseless against this monster. The medusa digs her claws into Amy's cheek, drawing blood that flows down in streams like tears. “You must be made to suffer eternally. And I think I have just the pose. Now, you'll move as I tell you to move, and hold the positions I tell you to hold. One bit of disobedience and I'll tear out your heart and feed it to you!”
Thoroughly beaten, Amy can only nod.
“There's a good girl. Now keep your eyes closed; don't want you turning into a statue prematurely.” The gorgon turns and looks at Amy's position. She grabs Amy's legs and pulls her to the edge of the pedestal, then spreads Amy's legs wide. She bends Amy's right leg, positioning it so that her foot rests on the pedestal with her toes hanging just off the edge. The left leg hangs down lazily off the edge of the pedestal. The gorgon then seizes Amy's left hand and places it in her crotch.
“Spread your lips and finger your clit, dearie!” the medusa spits. Amy shudders as she complies, using her index and ring fingers to spread her labia minora while touching her clitoris with her middle finger. The gorgon then positions herself directly on top of Amy, face-to-face.
“Now, hold my chin with your right hand.” Amy shudders as she touches the gorgon's cold, slimy skin.
“Pick your shoulders up off the ground. Lean forward. Get up nice and close to my face.”
Amy flexes her abdominal muscles and pulls herself upward, still cupping medusa's chin in her right hand. She quakes from a combination of fear and holding herself in this awkward position.
“Open your mouth wide.” Amy complies as a sickening feeling of what is to come washes over her.
“Now, take a look at me.”
Amy hesitates for a moment, then opens her eyes wide. She stares straight into medusa's face. S few seconds later, she finds she no longer has to struggle to hold her pose. Her entire body has been transformed to stone.
“Great. Now, you wait here, I've got a friend I'd like you to meet.” The gorgon hops off the pedestal, then looks back and smirks. “Don't move a muscle.”
A few minutes later the medusa returns, holding a stone statue of a reasonably muscular man under her arms. She plunks it onto the pedestal, then pulls herself up and begins maneuvering it.
The man is on his knees, legs spread, looking upward. His left arm is at his side, his right arm has a death grip on his conspicuously erect penis.
As the gorgon carefully shifts him, she explains. “This fellow is some sort of statue fetishist. I get them occasionally, as you might imagine. This one wandered into my garden, took one look at my collection, and immediately got hard. Then I made my appearance and got him altogether harder.”
Finally the gorgon is satisfied with the statue's position. The statue now straddles Amy on its knees. Amy's hands, which once held the medusa's chin, now cradle the statue's scrotum. The statue's tumescent member is pointed straight at Amy's mouth.
“And now, let's make this tableau complete!” The medusa snaps her fingers and, through magic known only to her, causes water to shoot from the head of the male statue's penis into Amy's mouth. Once there, the water travels through Amy and squirts out of her vagina. The impression given is of Amy lying on her back, leaning forward to fellate the statue while pleasuring herself, and of the couple being captured at the moment of mutual climax, him ejaculating into her mouth, her squirting into the fountain below.
Either that, or he's peeing into her mouth and she's peeing into the fountain. The interpretation, as with so much great art, is left to the viewer.
Amy settles in for an eternity as a lewd fountain. The only cold comfort she can offer herself is that at least she won't have many visitor seeing her in this humiliating position.
Those hopes are dashed when Lord Stephenson throws a gala garden party the next week, at which his newest fountain is the centerpiece.
Amy is in no condition to continue this adventure.