For all you sadistic fuckers who thought the last one wasn't cruel enough :-P Love you! ;-)



Katie’s Last Moment

Katie was ten years old. She was pretty, popular, did well in school, had hair that was the envy of many of her friends and even teachers and was in pretty great physical shape. Katie was the kind of girl who has everything going for her. And Katie was about to die.

This was the first moment that she really understood that. Like, recognised it in her soul. She had known since the moment she stepped forward to ask about volunteering on her school trip that she would not survive the process but, even when the artist had talked her and her parents through the detail of the process required to turn living children and teens into bronze statues, it has all seemed quite academic as if he was discussing giving her a hair-cut or a new outfit for a special occasion. All she had been focussed on was the idea that he beauty would be preserved forever.

It had been quite a thrill, undressing and standing stark naked in the artist’s office in front of not only this near-total stranger but his secretary and her parents, neither of whom had been allowed to see her in the nude for at least three years. The way everyone had been looking at her and discussing her form was almost too exciting for words! It was only after several minutes of discussing how she should be preserved standing up so that every part of her lovely young body would be visible that anyone had even talked to her as if she was another person in the room and not already a statue.

The artist, Bova Polkan, had suggested the title “The Joy of Dreaming” and suggested she be stood holding a baby doll and looking up towards the sky, as if imagining the day she would one day be a mother. It was then that she had been asked her opinion but, in all honesty, she didn’t care what interpretation would be put on the finished piece as long as she got to show off her beautiful naked body. In truth, the thing that pleased her most was that she would be standing up so visitors could walk all the way around her and admire both her shapely behind and cute, equally shapely vulva, both of which she felt proud of. She had stood in front of her bedroom mirror several time admiring the smooth, puffy lips and dreading the day its peachy prettiness would be spoiled by hair. At least now that was never going to happen!

There had been discussion about what sort of doll she should be holding. Her mother had suggested that it be as realistic as possible but Polkan had expressed concern that, if it looked too lifelike, people might assume that it had been a real baby, as real as the little girl holding it, and that might cast doubt on the guarantee he gave that all his models were willing volunteers as such a young child could clearly not have been made aware of what would happen.

Eventually, it was agreed that the baby doll, made of light wood to burn easily of course, would be featureless – more a suggestion of a baby from the girls’ imagination that a baby itself. This, Polkan pointed out, would also serve to ensure that the cuteness of the baby did not distract from the little girl’s own naked beauty. While Katie had reluctantly put her clothes back on, the contracts had been signed and a date agreed for her conversion. The night before, Polkan had told the family, he must insist that Katie stayed at the luxury on-site accommodation he kept for his models but that they were all welcome – an invitation they readily agreed to.

A little over a week later they had returned to be welcomed once more by the world-famous artist. Although she had been told she didn’t need to, Katie had chosen to go to school as normal in the days in between – she enjoyed having those last few days to spend with her friends and to brag about the beautiful piece of art she would help create. With her parents’ permission, he Head Teacher had even invited her to the front during morning assembly on her last day at school and asked if she would be willing to undress and show the pose she would be adopting for her statue. It had been thrilling enough to strip off in front of the four adults during the consultation but there she was, stark naked in front of all the children and teachers of her school, everyone looking with curiosity and fascination at her exposed young body. It truly was, to her mind, the most exciting thing that she had ever experienced and made her think of the thousands, if not millions of men, women and children who would be looking at her eternal and unchanging naked form in the years to come, not to mention those who would buy postcards or even little replicas of her statue to take home with them. The accommodation Polkan had shown them to was like a luxury holiday villa and the family had enjoyed a wonderful time with the pool and huge home cinema system. While her parents wore nice clothes as befitting a special occasion and swimsuits when they went in the pool, Katie had of course spent the entire time naked.

Even as she was led, alone this time for parents of the models were not allowed to witness their own children going through the process, to the barn-like workshop where her final performance was to take place, she still did not see it as dying. She knew of course that her life as a girl was ending but rather imagined that she was becoming the statue – that this would be a new life of sorts. After all, such words as “immortality” and “eternal” had been used liberally during their consultation, none of which evoked a sense of death or ending.

Katie had endured the uncomfortable process of having her lungs filled with oxygen-rich gel and had then proudly stepped up onto the small wooden platform that had been placed in the middle of the “stage”, as Polkan called it. The artist himself had handed her the featureless wooden doll and she had posed as they had discussed – stood straight, shoulders back proudly, looking up as if towards the clouds and her future with her long, thick brown hair in a ponytail that fell down her back. She held the large doll on one hip as she would a baby, a pose it had been designed for, and smiled as the final wall was slotted into place and the command to begin was given and the quick-drying white substance began to fill the tank.

It was a lot thinner than she expected but then she supposed it had to be to preserve every eyelash, pore and strand of hair. She had been most worried about being able to keep her eyes open but the liquid rose around her then hardened so fast it was not actually too difficult, although the stone-like substance against her eyeball did sting quite horribly.

The darkness was complete and total, far darker than anything she had experienced before, and the feeling of being trapped was almost unbearable. She could not even change the expression on her face. The hard mould pressed in against her from every side and she began to panic. Logic told her she should not be able to breath and, although she knew that the gel in her lungs was for that very purpose, she could not help trying to struggle and kick for the surface as if she was in a swimming pool. She wanted to, that is, but was utterly unable to. She wanted to scream and cry for help but could move neither her mouth nor chest, producing only a strangled, whining sound when she tried.

It was then that the full reality of her situation hit her. She was about to die. There, alone, entombed in total darkness. She wanted to get out. Wanted it to stop. She had believed that she would be immortalised, turned into a eternally-beautiful work of art but that was not what was happening. She realised that now. She was being killed. Utterly. Her body destroyed and a statue created in her image only, using as a mould the space where her beautiful young body had been. Why had she agreed to this? Asked for it even? Why had her parents gone along with it? Why was the artist even allowed to do such a thing and, more over, praised and lauded for it. This was neither peaceful nor beautiful as she had expected, it was cruel and terrifying.

From deep within her white tomb, Katie heard some kind of machinery start up and a vibrating sensation as the block was moved to the kiln. The kiln that would heat the block with the little girl trapped smiling but horrified inside to such a temperature that she would be reduced to nothing but ash.

There was a hissing sound as the kiln was turned on and the stone-like substance around her began to heat up. Katie could feel her skin burning on contact with the hot stone. She tried to scream but produced nothing but a high-pitched squeal from her throat. Through the pain, she wondered if Polkan or any of his assistants could hear her or if they would care if they could? Did the artist genuinely believe that the process was gentle for his models? That it provided a peaceful transition from life to death? Did he know about how intolerable the pain must be for them? Did he choose not to think about it or did he simply not care?

Her eyes were the first to be destroyed. At first it felt as if white-hot needles were being pushed into her exposed eyeballs then there was a sickening popping, squelching sound as they exploded in her skull. If she had been able to smell, Katie would have smelled the harsh, rancid smell of burning hair and flesh but the white stone filled her nostrils, burning her from the inside. The heath continued to increase and the pain Katie felt along with it. She hated the fact that the impression of her face would be preserved with a smile. She hated her parents for signing the forms that allowed this to be done to her. She hated Polkan and all his team for putting her through this process and most of all she hated herself for volunteering.

Surely the human body could not endure this heat and this pain? Katie could feel her blood boiling in her veins and her internal organs exploding within her abdomen. With a final strangled scream she passed into merciful oblivion and, less than a minute later, she was nothing but ash.

The next day, once the mould had cooled, the inside was sprayed out with a high-pressure air-hose to remove any remaining ash then filled with molten bronze. One week after that, the polished statue of the smiling young girl holding a blank canvas of a baby and looking with hope and joy towards her future was unveiled to the art-loving public. As well as the serenity of the pose and the feelings of happiness it evoked in those who looked at it, many people commented on the beautiful figure of the model. A little over three weeks earlier, Katie had been on a school trip to Polkan’s Paradise of Pleasures and volunteered to become one of his art-works. Now she had her wish and her beauty would be preserved for all time in gleaming bronze.