Page 11 of Tantalized By the Cursed Statue
Nathaniel lets in a sharp gasp. What if he can’t help the man after all? What if he can’t break his stupid curse, and the statue stays frozen in the worst moment of his life?
Great, now he’s crying.
And as his tears roll down his face, they fall onto the dick and turn it into flesh.
He stares down at it.
Then he lets out a manic laugh, which is really the only sane reaction a person can have to finding out that their tears turn dicks real.
As Nathaniel’s tears fall, the cock becomes warm and velvety and lifelike, and it even smells good. Masculine and salty. Holding it up to his face, Nathaniel can’t help but give the tip of it a little lick.
And then it twitches. It spasms in his hands, and a warm feeling crawls over Nathaniel’s skin. He can’t help but give it another lick. A bead of precum appears at the tip.
Nathaniel licks that off too, his face burning. Because he knows the statue can feel all of it, every lick and suck.
Does this mean it fits now? He parts his thighs, lines it up, and…
Ouch. No.
It’s still too big to fit. Fuck!!!
But as he gazes down at the warm, taut flesh, he has an idea.
If his tears turn the dick real, then maybe…
Grabbing his water bottle and shoving it against his face, he begins to push, prod, and twist at his own body, trying to find the most painful parts of himself.
It’s not long before he finds out that his nipples are really sensitive. Pinching them makes his cock throb painfully against the bars of the chastity cage, which is actually really helpful.
He squeezes his nipples between his fingertips, collecting the tears in the water bottle. But it’s not enough. His hand travels lower.
He squeezes his balls, grunts in pain. His caged cock kicks against its prison, and even though he’s crying, the pressure of it feels strangely good. Especially when he imagines the statue tying him down and playing with his nipples and balls, pinching them inside his stony grasp, teasing him and making him churn with need.
It hurts to squeeze his balls, the kind of hurt that has him spasming inside his cage, but it’s still not enough. So he plunks the stone cock down on the floor and sits on it, trying to push the tip of it inside. The fact that hecan’t get it insidereally makes him cry, hard gasping sobs with snot running down his nose, and he shouts with victory as more tears spill into his water bottle. He rocks back and forth, trying to find an angle that will acceptit, but it’s not happening. As much as he wants to take it in full, every tiny shove deeper makes him grimace withnopeandtoo much.
Resigned, he lifts himself off the tip of the gigantic stone phallus.
His face is nice and wet with tears, and he scrapes the mouth of the water bottle over his hot skin to collect every bit of moisture. Then he goes to the tap to fill it up the rest of the way.
Nathaniel is going to drench this massive stone man with his tears, and then he’s going to save him.
Chapter 7: Halloween Night
That is how Nathaniel finds himself in a dark graveyard at two in the morning on Halloween Night, dousing a gigantic statue with his watery tears.
At some point he realizes he’s shouting just to drown out his own fear.
“Do you like that?” Nathaniel cries out as he splashes him with his water bottle, panicked at his own daring. “Those are my tears! They turned your dick real, so now you’re going to turn into a big freaky man, right?”
In the low glow of his cell phone flashlight, it’s too dark to see if his tears are doing anything.
“I’ll bet you’re really angry at me!” Nathaniel taunts. “I squeezed my balls really hard to make myself cry, you know. I guess I’m a big stupid brat, because I can’t even admit to myself how much I liked it. Or that the only thing that would make it hotter would be ifyoudid it to me! Once you’re alive, you’re going to have to Dom the heck out of me, and you’d better make me really sorry!”
But the statue only stares down at him with those cold marble eyes. And as much as Nathaniel wants to imagine that his chiseled body is turning warm and beginning to move, as the minutes pass, it gets harder to fool himself.
Those strong arms stay frozen at his sides, and the thick fingers don’t even twitch.
Nathaniel sighs, his shoulders slumping. He has no more tears to give him, his water bottle is empty.
