This episode got away from me a little and ended up far longer than I intended! Polkan, since this story is my gift to you, I'll let you decide what kind of fun your namesake and Evie will have in the next chapter ;-)

Pt 7

Once they were inside the workshop barn, Polkan gave the siblings a few minutes to have a look around at the other works in progress. “The Joy of Reading” that their mother had seen begun was stood in the corner, polished and beautiful, ready to be put on display. Evie couldn’t help giggle at the very small willies on the two little boys of “The Joy of Friendship” which was currently being polished up by some of Polkan’s assistants. A new statue had just been removed from its mould – it showed three girls, aged around three, five and seven kneeling and looking in delight at a cluster of flowers that seemed to be growing from the bronze base.

“Those flowers were actually made from paper.” Polkan informed his models. “With wooden stalks. You’d never know it ‘though, would you? My team did a very good job of making them lifelike!” The three future statues agreed and expressed surprise at how delicate and beautiful they looked, even in blackened bronze. “I call this one ‘The Joy of Nature’” the artist explained.

“Seems a bit of a shame in some way.” Natalie observed. “A waste.”

“What do you mean?” Polkan asked, worried that his young model was having second thoughts about participating. Technically, once her mother had signed the documents, the stunning tween and her siblings had become his property to do with whatever he wished but an unwilling model would certainly not make for an attractive statue, not the kind he had in mind anyway. His racing, artistic mind began to think of alternative poses for the girl that would not require her cooperation. Something like Joan of Arc, perhaps? Firmly tied to a post? But what could he call that? The joy of… martyrdom? It would definitely need work. “I can assure you all three girls were delighted to give themselves to this piece and therefore gain a kind of immortality as you will!”

“Oh I didn’t mean like that!” Natalie laughed, putting Polkan back at his ease. “I was just thinking it’s a shame they got naked for the statue but the way they’re kneeling and leaning forward, you can barely see anything. The might as well have been wearing swimsuits!”

“Ah I see!” chuckled the artist. “Well the nudity of my subjects is intended to denote an purity and timelessness. That is why the nude has been such a popular subject in art throughout history. As soon as you put a model in clothes you place them in a particular place and time, dated by the changing whims of fashion, and assign them a social order whereas, beneath their clothes, a princess and a street urchin look much the same and the King cannot be distinguished from the dustman! Nakedness is the great leveller, you see. A naked body can belong to anyone of any time or status and ensures that the art will be as relevant in a hundred or even a thousand years as the day it was created!” Natalie nodded slowly, realising how much sense this explanation made. Posing nude, she now understood, was much more about what you did not show than what you did.

“Don’t worry, ‘though!” Polkan grinned at her a little cheekily. “With the pose we’ve discussed for you, there will be no doubt about whether you are closed or not!” Natalie blushed a little but could not help feeling pleased.

Once the three young models had satisfied their curiosity and asked all the questions they wanted to ask about the works that had not yet been revealed to the public, Polkan’s assistants rolled one of the largest wooden plinths onto the stage with its three perspex walls and the siblings adopted the pose they had seen in the sketches, directed carefully by the artist himself both with verbal suggestions and the occasional physical prompt. The pose itself was relatively easy but holding it for the four to six minutes it would take for the quick-drying plaster-like substance to be poured in an harden was a little more challenging. Sam certainly had no issue rising to the occasion and well-practised Natalie was able to take him deep into her throat but, having done so, then having to remain still rather than begin the natural rhythmic sucking was torture for both of them. Evie probably had the easiest job of all although she did have a suggestion of her own, asking if her free hand, the one that was not holding the wooden dildo, could go somewhere other than Polkan initial suggestion. This was an idea to which he readily agreed, much to Evie’s delight, on the condition that she would be able to remain still in her preferred pose.

After what seemed like an age of burning muscles and almost explosive sexual frustration, Polkan confirmed that he was happy with the pose and satisfied that they would be able to hold it for the required length of time.

“The rest of the day is your own.” He told them with a broad smile. “Lunch will be provided back in your accommodation shortly but after that I’m afraid you must limit yourselves to the smoothies in the fridge. I assure you they are very tasty and quite filling. By all means spend the next few hours however you desire but I must ask that you all refrain from sexual activity, including masturbation, after three o’clock this afternoon. Everyone okay with that?” All three agreed, albeit somewhat grudgingly. “Great!” the artist beamed again. “Go have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow morning!”

He had barely finished talking before Sam and Natalie were out the door. Polkan could not help chuckling to himself, wondering if they would even make it back to the living quarters or whether he would find them copulating in the bushes on his way back to his office. He was fairly sure that, even if they had only engaged in oral play and mutual masturbation up until that point, neither brother nor sister would die a virgin the next day!

As he turned to leave, Polkan noticed that Evie was still stood close beside him, looking up a little shyly.

“What’s the matter?” He smiled down at her. “Don’t you want to go and play?”

“I don’t want to be anywhere near those two!” She rolled her eyes. “They’re going to spend the next few hours doing nothing but fucking!” There was something adorable and alluring about the little girl’s frankness. “And I really don’t want to watch that! Can I hang out with you?”

“Sure!” Polkan smiled, thinking what pleasant company the naked little girl might be in his otherwise fairly dull afternoon. “Since you don’t want to go back and join the others, how about I show you my personal apartment above my office and we can get some lunch there instead?” Evie happily agreed and held his hand happily as he led her through the sculpture garden back to the office where she and her siblings had arrived the day before, stopping occasionally to admire or discuss a particular piece or to wave and pose for tourists and other visitors eager to snap a picture of the famous Russian artist and his latest muse.

Eventually, they reached the office and after exchanging greetings and general pleasantries with the young secretary, Polkan summoned the elevator which could only be accessed with a key. The door slide open and he ushered his young guest inside with a pat on her firm bare bottom before following her in.

Evie gasped when the doors opened again and showed her Polkan’s private apartment. It was not his real home, of course, just somewhere for him to stay while he was working on or visiting his unique sculpture garden but it was never the less beautiful and luxurious. The walls were adorned with drapes interspersed with paintings, presumably by Polkan himself, of beautiful, naked children and teenagers in various innocent and more erotic poses. There was a desk littered with papers and sketchbooks, a dumb waiter next to a fridge and, dominating the room, a large, circular bed adorned with any number of throw-cushions and pillows. What caught Evie’s attention most, however, were the various statues around the room with varying levels of detail and seemingly made from different materials.

“What are these?” She asked, curiously, walking to each in turn and touching the faces. None of the poses were especially elaborate – simply boys and girls, individually, either standing or sitting on the floor. Some of the standing figures were posing a little, others stood at attention with their hands behind their backs. The most relaxed seemed to be the seated ones who sat either cross-legged or with one knee bent and the other leg outstretched. One of the least detailed depicted a boy of maybe eleven or twelve stood with his hands coyly covering his genitalia – the only one among the statues to be attempting any kind of modesty.

“These are all my early experiments,” Polkan explained, standing behind the curious little girl with his hands on her shoulders, “before I perfected the technique of preserving youthful beauty that I will be using with you. His name was Tommy,” he explained, identifying the shy boy, “he was happy to help me out but said he didn’t want everyone looking at his bits, as he called them. I said that was a shame since I believe that all bodies are beautiful but I agreed that he could cover himself this way if he preferred, especially since he was never likely to be on public display. Unless, of course,” he added, “I decide to open an exhibition detailing the evolution of my work, but I have no plans to do so at the moment.”

“What did you do to him?” Evie asked, feeling the smooth, glassy surface of the boy’s cheek which reminded her of a tea-cup. Like most porcelain, this statue was white.

“He was coated in a kind of resin,” Polkan explained, “very thin and goes on like paint but dries rock hard and smooth as you can see. No moulds, kins of melting metal required but, as you can see, quite a lot of the precious detail is lost.”

“So he’s still inside there?” Evie’s voice was full of morbid fascination. “How long was he alive as a statue?”

“The coating would have made it impossible for him to take a breath.” the artist explained, “He had the oxygen solution in his lungs the same as you will so he would have lived for up to ten minutes but no longer than that.”

Evie could not help but feel a little sorry for the boy. She knew that she too would die in the making of her effigy but she also knew that she would be burned up before she started to suffocate, dying very quickly with very little suffering. She hoped he hadn’t been too scared while he waited to die – she had tried holding her breath under water at the swimming pool before and her lungs had always started to hurt before she gave up and returned to the surface. She didn’t like to imagine what it must feel like for someone unable to surface, as Tommy had been. At least he had made an important contribution to art history as, without him, the beautiful garden she was to become a part of could never have come to be.

“In time,” Polkan continued, “he rotted away inside but his skeleton is still in there!” He reached out and rocked the statue gently backwards, creating a rattling sound and the model’s skeleton shifted around the hollow interior.

“What about this one?” Evie moved to a girl around her own age who was sat down with one leg outstretched and reaching for her toes as if she was doing ballet stretches.

“Eloise.” Polkan identified her. “Charming little girl, she was. This was the third method I tried. Careful!” He cautioned as Evie reached out to touch the matt black statue, “She’s far more fragile than the others. She was preserved much the same way as Tommy but with a very much thinner substance. A fine carbon dust mixed with resin. You’ll see a far higher level of detail than on Tommy.” He pointed without touching to the girl’s left nipple which was picked out in perfect detail but his young guest was captivated by the beauty of the young dancer’s face. She looked so peaceful and serene. “The trouble with this method is that the finished statue is very delicate. Oh a light brush of the fingers would do her no harm but she would never withstand being displayed in the elements the way you will be.”

Over the next fifteen minutes, the artist accompanied his naked young guest from statue to statue, telling her the names of the models and the methods used to capture their beauty. Finally they reached the one he described as his final prototype – a girl or ten with her long hair in a pony-tail and her hands by her sides, ensuring that every single detail of her lovely body would be preserved for all eternity. Her name had been Charlotte, Polkan explained, and she was the first model to be immortalised by the method he now used to create all the statues for the garden.

“She’s very beautiful!” Evie observed in a voice filled with awe. “I hope I look that pretty in my statue!”

“Oh I’m sure you will!” The artist smiled and stroked her soft, blonde hair. Just then, an electronic ping and a light next to the hatch informed him that the dumb waiter had been sent up with food for the two of them. “Ah lovely!” he exclaimed. “It seems our lunch is here. I’m sure you worked up quite an appetite this morning. Then once we’ve eaten,” he grinned a little wolfishly at his naked young guest, “we can think of a way to pass the next few hours. I’m sure we’ll be able to come up with something!”