More to come :-)

Pt 1

“Um, Sir?” The nervous young secretary opened the door to Bova Polkan’s office. Russia’s most successful avant garde artist, the popular and charismatic billionaire has come to Great Britain to create what promised to be his greatest work of art - “Polkan’s Paradise of Pleasures”, a sculpture garden dedicated to the beauty of youth and all the pleasures of life. What made his particular project unique among other such installations was the process by which his sculptures were created.

“What is it?” Polkan looked up from the brochure on his desk – a proof copy sent by the printers for the promotional material he planned to send out to potential investors and contributors. “I’m rather busy.”

“Mrs Lomax is here and she wants to speak to you.” Polkan sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Can you tell her I’m in a meeting or something?” He asked, fluttering his eyelashes comically at the young secretary, putting her a little more at her ease. “I really don’t feel like dealing with her today!”

“I don’t know.” The secretary made an anxious face. “She seems pretty pissed!”

“Well tell her…” but the secretary never got to hear what her employer wanted her to tell the angry woman as, at that moment, Karen Lomax stormed past her, shoving her out of the way so firmly that she would have ended up on the floor if the large potted plant had not been there to break her fall.

“What the fuck is that monstrosity?!” Karen slammed her hands, palms down, so hard on Polkan’s desk that his pens and coffee mugs rattled.

“Hello, Mrs Lomax.” Polkan leaned back in his chair and smiled politely. “How delightful to see you again. What can I do for you?”

“You can explain why you turned my beautiful babies into that… that THING out there!”

“You don’t like the new exhibit?” Polkan asked innocently. “It’s proving very popular. From what I can see online it’s quickly becoming one of the most photographed installations in the garden and everyone seems to respond very positively towards it.” He tried his best not to smirk at the increasing fury on the woman’s red face. “People seem to think it really captures the positive side of life with siblings!”

“I gave you my babies in good faith!” the woman screamed in his face, treating him to a shower of spittle as she did so. “And you turn them into THAT!”

“You sold me your children for a good price.” Polkan reminded her. “And I did tell you in advance the name of the piece.”

“You told me it would be called ‘The Joy of Siblings’!”

“As indeed it is. Are you telling me they don’t appear joyful?”

“How could you force my innocent babies to participate in that… that FILTH?!”

“Mrs Lomax.” Polkan leant forward, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. “You have witness the process by which my statues are created. You know that your children needed to hold that pose for up to four minutes. Do you really think they would have been able to do so if they were not happy with it? If they were not enjoying themselves?”

“You turned my babies into pornography!”

“Your children and I collaborated to create art.” He reminded her, firmly. “Art which is proving very popular with the public. You should be very proud of them.” Neither spoke for a few moments. Eventually, Karen Lomax realised that her glare which had reduced so many sales assistants and their managers to quivering jelly was not going to have any effect on this Russian artist.

“Fine!” She stood up straight, trying to salvage a little of her dignity in the face of this defeat. “You’ll be hearing from my lawyer!”

“I shall look forward to it.” Polkan smiled sweetly. “I’m sure someone with his or her professional interests will admire how iron-clad your our contract it. Good day, Mrs Lomax.” Karen seemed for a moment as if she was attempting to shoot lasers from her eyes to obliterate Polkan but, after a few tense seconds, she huffed, turned on her heel and marched out of the office, slamming the door behind her so hard the glass rattled.

“Mel, can you come in here a moment, please?” Polkan spoke into the intercom. The young secretary stuck her head round the door nervously again. “I could use a coffee.” Polkan took out his wallet and handed her a fairly large note. “I think I need one after dealing with her. Get one for yourself too, and a snack if you want one, oh and Mel?” She took the note and smiled at him gratefully, he was certainly not a bad person to be working for, “No hurry. Take your time.”

THREE WEEKS EARLIER

“Thank you for coming by, Mrs Lomax.” Bova Polkan smiled, welcoming the tall, smartly-dressed woman into his office. “As you can see, my garden is still very much a work in progress but the public response so far has been very positive.”

“Oh yes!” Mrs Lomax gushed, “I saw two or three of your sculptures on the way in and I must say that they were stunning. After I read about your project I just knew that my babies would be perfect for you.” Polkan sat down behind his desk and invited her to take a seat. “I enrolled them all in drama and dance classes from the age of four so they’re all in great physical shape and natural performers!”

“I’m sure they are.” Polkan smiled. “Obviously we have lots of applicants for this very unique form of immortality but I’m always excited to hear from new contenders and I think I have just the project in mind for your children. Did you bring the photographs I asked for?”

“I certainly did!” Karen Lomax proudly pulled a large manilla envelope from her purse and handed it to him. Inside were five A4 glossy prints, three of which were close-ups of her children’s faces and the remaining two showed the three siblings lined up naked against an outside wall, front and back views. On the back of the head-shots were the names, ages and some general stats about the children.

Polkan browsed the head-shots then paid particular interest to the full-body nudes as these would give him the best idea of what he might be working with. The children were stood in relaxed poses and all flashing well-practised smiles at the camera.

In the middle was a girl of twelve with long dark hair, trim figure and just the first hint of breasts protruding proudly from her chest. She stood with one hand by her side and the other on her hip which had a distinctly feminine curve. A small patch of dark pubic hair adorned her mound but otherwise her genitalia still looked like that of a little girl.

To her right stood a boy of fourteen. His hair was dark like his sisters but curly, with a certain cultivated unruliness which made him look as if he belonged in a boy-band. He was reasonably well-endowed for his age and sported far more hair than his sister but it had not yet spread to the rest of his body. his figure was toned like a dancer. He was stood with his hands behind his back, looking a little shy but generally relaxed.

On the left was the smallest sibling – a girl of eight. Her hair was lighter than the older two, closer to that of her mother’s dirty blonde. She was grinning broadly at the camera, hands by her side and flat chest thrust forwards. No signs of puberty were yet evident on her body which, like her siblings’ , was toned and athletic. Polkan took a brief glance at the rear view picture but it was much as he expected.

“You have a very beautiful family!” Polkan smiled warmly. “I’m sure I can create a truly stunning work with them! Are you familiar with my process?”

“I am.” Karen nodded. “I read your article.”

“Ah, splendid!” Polkan slipped the photographs into the top left-hand drawer of his desk. “And your children also understand how my sculptures are created?”

“They do!” Karen assured him. “They think it sounds like fun!”

“Well that’s marvellous!” Polkan slid his chair back and stood up. “I actually have three new works in production this morning, all at different stages. Perhaps you would like to come and see so you can witness the whole process for yourself?”

Mrs Lomax happily agreed and Polkan led her out of the office and through the park towards the studio where the works were created. Along the way, he pointed out a few of his favourite works.

“This one is called the Joy of Surprises.” He pointed to a bronze sculpture of a naked little girl, around four or five years old, kneeling in front of a newly-opened gift box and squealing in delight at what was inside.

“But the box is empty?” Karen observed, peering in with curiosity. “What was the surprise supposed to be?”

“That’s rather the point.” explained Polkan. “The idea is that the viewer looks at the delight on her face and imagines whatever gift would provoke such feelings in them. Perhaps it is a puppy? Or a special toy? Or maybe just a photo of a loved-one they’ve not seen in a very long time. It’s all down to interpretation.” They walked a little further, past other statues, until they saw one depicting a young couple, maybe fifteen years old, sharing a passionate kiss. The girl’s hand had a firm grip on the boy’s erect penis. “This one is called the Joy of Love.” Polkan informed his guest. “It works on two levels because the pair are clearly lovers yet my subjects were actually twin siblings so it depicts at least two kinds of love at once. Ah!” He smiled as they reached the studio that, from the outside, looked like a rustic barn. “Here we are, where the magic happens!”

A sign on the door indicated that this building was not open to the public and the door was firmly locked. This was no issue for Polkan, of course. He tapped the lock code into the combination pad beside the door and a metallic click indicated that the door was unlocked. He pushed it open and ushered his guest inside.

Although she had not been entirely sure what to expect from a studio where such unconventional sculptures were created, Karen Lomax was certain it had not been this! The inside of the rustic barn more closely resembled a car factory with large vats and industrial machinery. The workers all wore high-vis vests and protective eyewear.

“Oh hey, Mr Polkan!” A man carrying a clipboard who Karen took to be the foreman waved as they came in. “I was just about to call you and ask you to come down. The subjects are ready to pose The Joy of Reading.”

“Ah splendid!” Polkan clasped his hands together in genuine delight. “How’s the Joy of Friendship coming along?”

“Fired and being cleaned, sir.” The foreman reported. “Another ten minutes or so and we should be ready to cast. The Joy of Togetherness is being polished at the moment if you wanted to see it?”

“Oh yes, that would be great!” Polkan smiled. “Mrs Lomax here is considering selling me her three lovely children so I’ve invited her to see the whole process. Let the subjects know I’m here, would you please?”

“Sure thing, Sir.” The Foreman nodded and spoke into his radio.

“Well Mrs Lomax, it looks as if you’re about to get a sneak preview of one of my newest works!” He led her past a rack of wooden discs, tapered at the edges, varying in size from two to five feet across, to the corner where two workers, a man and a woman, were carefully polishing a bronze sculpture depicting two girls around ten years old, naked apart from the flowers in their hair, holding hands with their heads turned to face each other and posed as if they were skipping. The scene brought to mind happy childhood frolics idyllic meadows. Although they were both cast in identical bronze, Mrs Lomax was fairly sure from the girls’ hair and features that one had been black and the other Caucasian.

“It’s very beautiful!” She gushed. “So sweet! What is the one you’re going to be starting today?”

“Bova!” A door opened and two young girls, aged around ten and six, rushed out from a side-room and practically drowned Polkan with hugs and cuddles.

“Hey girls!” He knelt down to kiss each of the affectionately on the cheek. “Are we all ready to make some beautiful art?” Both girls were naked, of course, like all the sculpture subjects. The ten year old had the body and poise of a ballet dancer, with long, straight black hair which was tied back in a pony-tail reaching almost to her bottom and topped with a big, floppy blue bow. Her chest was flat apart from two marble-sized buds behind her pink nipples and she had no body hair. The smaller girl was appealingly chubby and her lighter hair was tied in bunches either side of her head. In response to the question, they both nodded enthusiastically and made the kind of excited squeals only prepubescent girls can make!

“Let’s go get the set ready, shall we?” Polkan suggested and, with an arm around each girl’s shoulders, guided them to a metal platform surrounded on three sides with thick glass sheets mounted in corner posts. Mrs Lomax followed, curious to see how the start of the process worked.

The workers brought out one of the larger wooden discs and placed in on the metal floor to form the base of the finished sculpture. They then set a very picturesque tree stump slightly to the right. Karen expected to see the girls mount the platform then and there and assume their poses but first a worker came over with what looked like a plastic barrel in one hand and the rounded head of a thin hose in the other.

“Okay, who’s first?” The man asked with an affable smile.

“I will!” The older girl put up her hand before stepping forwards.

“Okay, tilt your head back for me as far as it will go,” the man instructed, “and open your mouth.” The girl did as she was told and the man started to feed the hose down her throat. She gagged and spluttered a little but Polkan stood behind her, giving her shoulders a comforting massage, and she managed to tolerate it being pushed a little further. Once it was in, the worker pushed a button on the barrel.

“What’s going on?” Mrs Lomax asked.

“It’s actually a technique used by deep-sea divers.” Polkan explained, “Her lungs are being filled with oxygenated gel so she can go up to fifteen minutes without breathing. Stops the subjects’ faces distorting before the plaster dries as the body tends to go into auto-pilot if starved of oxygen. It was an issue we found with some of our early test-runs. Mrs Lomax nodded. The explanation made perfect sense. Once the first girl’s lungs were filled, her younger co-star received the same treatment. The smaller girl found it a little harder to take the hose down her oesophagus but she managed and soon she too was prepared.

“Right!” Polkan grinned, “Time to get started!”