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The Medusan free porn video
The Medusan
By Diann
The club was crowded that night, but through all the smoke and the press
of bodies I saw her walk in. To me it was almost as if a spotlight shone
down upon her. I must admit that I was smitten right then and there. She
was a breath of fresh air to the smoke-filled environs, and even though her
body was quickly hidden amongst the throng of people, what I saw made
me smile. Her raven colored hair was done up in a "controlled frenzy" type
of style, with no makeup that I can see from my vantage (poor as it was).
She wore a black denim jumper that reminded me of overalls, with a
dazzling white tee shirt underneath it. I couldn't see her feet, but I
wouldn't have been surprised to see her wearing Doc Martens (I saw later in
the evening that she was wearing some high heels in black patent leather
with a dainty strap across her ankle). The dress looked like she was
working in it earlier ... it was stained a slate gray in numerous places, by
what might have been chalk or dried paint or something.
I tried to push my way through the crowd toward a more central location by
the bar. It took me ten minutes or so to get there, then I just leaned in and
signaled for the bartender to refill my rum and coke. I've been here plenty
of times to know his name even if he doesn't know mine from Adam. He
acknowledged me and I started to twist into a more comfortable position
when my eyes suddenly locked onto hers only a couple feet away.
After a stunned moment of us staring into each other's eyes, I tried to make
myself heard above the din of the crowd and the DJ with his tunes. "Can I
get you a drink?" I shouted. It took a few tries before she got the message
and nodded, pointing to my own drink. I handed it to her and waved to
Rich for another one before he went too far away.
I grabbed my replacement drink and took her hand into mine. There was
warmth there I never felt before with any of my previous girlfriends when I
had held their hand. I was guessing that it was the club atmosphere that
generated it, but it felt like we had an instant bonding. I led her through
the human labyrinth to a spot that was somewhat secluded (being out of sight
from the stage should qualify). We tried to make some small talk for a
while as our drinks were being drained, but it soon proved futile, so I
motioned that we might go outside and talk for a while.
We finished our drinks and went for a walk down the street. We made it as
far as the bus shelter a couple blocks away before she had to rest; the heels
were killing her feet. So we sat on the bench and talked. I found out her
name is Melissa, and that she's an artist; she paints, sculpts, writes, plays
the clarinet (badly, she says), as well as the piano (equally as badly). She,
like me, doesn't go out to the loud nightclubs very often, but she said she
needed a change of pace. Since this one was the closest to her house, she
got her best clothes on and went.
As for me, I'm definitely a homebody as well. But living with my mother
at thirty years old can occasionally drive anyone insane; I felt the need to
just get away. Don't get me wrong, I love her dearly, but there are times
when I need to get away from catering to her needs, even though she does
need help since she's wheelchair bound. Luckily, one of the neighbors
volunteered to watch her tonight and I headed out to be with "kids my own
age" as the neighbor put it.
As we were talking I glanced at my watch to find it was already two in the
morning, and the club closed at one. Laughing at the fact that we were just
talking for three hours, I carried her on my back on the return walk to the
club. About fifty yards away from it I could tell the parking lot was locked
up for the night as well. We walked back to her place ... well; I carried her
part of the way.
As a joke I carried her over the threshold into her house, she gave me the
nickel tour - pointing out where I could sleep (her bedroom), and where
everything was (even though the main house was sparsely furnished, it was
quite beautiful). She even took me into her basement, where her studio
was. I saw what could only be described as a combination wood shop and
paint supply store - power tools were scattered at various points, as well as
some unfinished canvases and containers of paint in every color on the
market, not to mention brushes stored alongside files, chisels and welding
equipment. I could tell she was serious about her work as an artist.
Her sweet voice slowly came through the haze that had enveloped me as I
looked at her work, on display off to one side of the basement. Several
statues were on makeshift pedestals by the back entrance. Paintings were
anywhere that there was enough free space to dry in. I finally understood
that she wanted to go to bed, and I nodded an acknowledgement as she
tugged lightly on my arm to get going.
We went upstairs arm in arm, and before we entered her room, she hugged
me tight. "I'm so glad I found you, I have the feeling that tonight I'll be
inspired." Then she kissed me as I swept her off her feet and we went to
bed. I was so tired I went straight to sleep despite her and my own efforts
to become engaged sexually for awhile.
The next thing I knew, I had a pain in my wrists that woke me up. I opened
my eyes to see a leather thong tightly bound me to a hook that was attached
to a crane-type of device. I looked down as best as I could. I guessed I was
a good 3 feet over the bed when the bed slid into the wall, revealing the
work area of the basement. I heard the whir of machinery starting up, and
the crane lowered me through the floor. My feet found purchase on what
seemed to be a plastic bucket. I got my balance as the rope that lowered
me gave a little slack for a few seconds, then Melissa stepped out from her
alcove under the stairs, where the crane controls must be.
Gone was the cute little jumper, she was wearing some serious "Farmer
John" overalls and some combat boots. She had a smile that would
frighten the cat that ate the canary pasted on her face. "Jon," she begins.
"I'm very disappointed in you. You completely ignored all those signals I
was sending out. I wanted - no, needed - to get laid last night, and I
would've rewarded you too. Did you ever see the commercials for that
health food store where a muscleman 'broke the mold' because of the
products they sold, well I do something like it ... I form the mold and
reshape you. Don't bother saying anything, by now you can't talk anyway."
I did try to say something here and she was right, then I noticed that I
couldn't move my legs or bend at the waist. She takes a knife and frees my
hands, lowering my arms to my sides and she continues. "You see, I have
the power of a medusa - you're turning into a nice chunk of stone for me to
work with. I can turn you back eventually, but you'll be whatever I design
you to be." She pauses for effect, then "That is, of course, IF I'm feeling
like it."
Less than a minute later, my world goes black as my eyes are transformed
into granite; all the sounds around me die the same stony death as my ears
turn to stone as well. I'm still conscious of my surroundings through my
sense of touch, but that doesn't do too much, especially since it's most
likely dulled because I'm now totally made of stone. After a time, I fall
asleep.
I regain consciousness as I feel a chipping at my stomach. It feels like a
spoon just scooped out a small chunk of flesh. Then I feel a rubbing at that
same spot, like a small piece of sponge. The chipping sensation happens
again in a different area, again followed by the rubbing at the same spot.
This chipping/rubbing sensation touches literally every part of my petrified
body over the course of many consciousness/sleep cycles.
After waking up from a dreamless sleep, I notice a change in the sensations
I'm feeling. I feel a draft of air, and I instinctively stretch out my feet
and I can feel them shifting on whatever I've been perched all this time. I
don't feel anything underneath my feet, so I must be laying on my side, but I
can't distinguish that yet, so it seems like I'm suspended from my wrists
again, though I can't feel them yet either.
After falling asleep again, I'm awakened by a tickling sensation on the
soles of my feet. I tried to scream out but I couldn't, but I did succeed in
kicking at the source of the tickling. Then I try to rub my legs together and
see what happened to me while I was out. I feel ... smooth. Smooth as silk,
like a baby's bottom -- take your pick, I can't be sure of anything beside a
lack of hair. I can feel roughly up to my knees right now. I can feel hands
stroking my legs; the warmth reminds me of Melissa's touch when we were
holding hands. I feel her roll me onto my back, because I feel a mattress at
my heels as I'm slid totally on to it. A couple minutes later she lifts my
entire leg upward a little bit. Then she laid it back on the bed again.
A short time later I felt the aching in my lungs for oxygen again and I take
a long, deep breath of fresh air. As I tried to catch my breath, a sweet,
flowery scent drifted into my awareness. It reminded me of the perfume
Melissa was wearing that fateful night. I try to reach out and feel for her,
but I still couldn't move my arms yet. But I did become aware that they
were no longer at my side at least. I didn't know how long it would be until
everything came back to me, so I decided to take a nap.
"Jonnie, wake up honey." I hear as consciousness returned. I open my
eyes to the harsh light of her bedroom and I squeeze my eyes shut again.
"Come on dear. I wanted to apologize for the way I treated you. I'm sorry
sugar." Melissa whispers seductively into my ear. I bring up my hand to
shield my retinas from the searing brightness of the light. I open my eyes a
crack, to see she turned off the light in the room, bathing me in the light
streaming in from the hall instead. It helps especially when Melissa
interposes herself, shielding my eyes until they adjust. She reaches out and
lifts me into her embrace, pressing her ample bosom against me. I feel our
chests pressed tightly together, yet we're unusually far apart by my
judgement. I look down to see what it could be and my eyes widen in
shock as I see cleavage outside of her clothing ... on ME!
"Wha-" I start to say. I stop when I hear what I could only describe as a
sexy soprano as opposed to my usual bass voice coming out.
"What did I do to you?" she prompts, and I shake my head in an
affirmative. As my head is going up and down, my longer hair flops
forward into my face, obscuring my vision. I push it out of the way with a
very feminine looking hand, with long, sculpted nails that were as yet
unpainted. She takes a deep breath and continues "Well, you didn't want to
make love to me as a woman, so I turned you into a block of stone. I left
you alone for many weeks; then I decided to try making love to a woman,
and I was inspired to create. I crafted my masterpiece out of your block of
stone. You looked so gorgeous I just had to bring you back to life and try it
out."
"Talk about a Frankenstein's Monster" I say with that sweet voice. I might
eventually get used to it, but for now it's creeping me out. She just smiles
sweetly at me. She stands up and I see she's wearing that coverall type of
dress I loved so much when I met her. Then it hits me like a brick wall
being dropped on top of me as I realize I can probably fill that out as well
as she does, even though I have no ideas about sizing for women's clothes.
I dread it almost as much as the prospect thrills me, wearing a dress that is.
She walks out of the bedroom, motioning for me to stay where I was. She
comes back a few minutes later with a glass of wine. "I put a little
something extra in it to make you sleep." She says as she hands the glass
over into my delicate hands. "You'll wake up tomorrow morning,
hopefully on your way back to a more normal schedule. We'll talk more
then." She sits down on the edge of the bed and waits until I drink the
wine. She takes the glass from me as I lay back and try to get comfortable.
I'm still squirming to get comfortable with my new breasts as sleep
overtook me a few minutes later.
I awoke to a gentle caressing of my breasts and a warm moistness being
generated between my legs. I opened my eyes to see Melissa looking
lustfully into mine. She moves her face over mine and she kisses my lips.
"Good morning young lady" she says to me.
Despite being uncomfortable with that term applying to me, I accepted it
with a nod and returned her kiss for a few moments. When we pulled apart
for a breath, I whispered in a husky tone of voice "Hello yourself 'Young
Lady.'"
"How you feeling now hon? You were tossing and turning all night."
"Just trying to get used to everything. It was my first night sleeping with
these," I said as I ran my fingers over my boobs. Even though they didn't
look too big when I was reclined, as I sat up, they gathered up into their
regular shape, like a pair of teardrops on my chest, with the outward side
drawn into a slight point where my nipples were.
Melissa smiled at me while I made that unintentionally sexy move with my
hands, then kissed me on the cheek. "You'll get used to them dear, don't
worry too much about it. Why don't you grab a robe and join me for
breakfast in the kitchen. After all, you haven't eaten in about two months
or so." She stood and grabbed a pink robe from a hook on the back of the
door. The robe was barely that in any case, it came to about midway down
her upper leg and looked all satiny. It almost literally exuded sex, not that
it was a bad thing but in my current state of confusion I didn't think I'd
take advantage of it.
I got out of bed unsteadily, I crossed the few steps to the door on wobbly
feet and grabbed the robe hanging there, it was a baby blue version of the
one Melissa was wearing. I put it on and cinched the sash at the waist. I
liked the way that the fabric felt against my skin, even though I was still
very self-conscious about it at the same time.
I started toward the kitchen with the same wobbling gait, but as I walked, I
was slowly finding my stride as it were. By the time I reached the doorway
to the kitchen I was walking more or less on steady feet, though not
necessarily confident ones. She was looking my way as I entered. I gave
her a bleary smile as I began to search the cabinets for a bowl and some
cereal. After looking in all the cabinets and not finding any cereal, I
looked questioningly at her; she shrugged apologetically and offered me a
couple pieces of toast.
I put the bowl back and sat down somewhat clumsily (which brought out a
slight giggle from Melissa). I took the proffered toast and absently spread
some jelly on it before I looked up at her. She was studying me, almost like
she was a scientist observing the effects of a drug on her lab rats. "Just
what are you staring at 'young lady'?" I asked in a mock-serious tone of
voice, it almost reminded me of my mother's voice, though it was just a bit
off.
She smiled, then shook her head slightly, stirring up the cascading curls she
had adopted since we met at the club. "Just trying to see how you're
adapting to the new and improved you Jonnie. You seem to be handling it
okay. Anything I can help you with?"
I shook my head no; "Not yet. I'm still wondering how you did it. Are you
some kind of witch or sorceress or something like that?"
"Not at all. I am what would be defined as a supernatural being, well,
partly at least. Have you ever studied any Greek mythology?" She asked,
her voice seemed to be a bit hesitant about continuing.
I nodded once, "I had a fascination with it as a kid and read a little about
it all. Why?"
"Well, I'm of pure Greek ancestry first of all. My family told me of the
ancient legends as I was growing up, particularly the few involving the
gorgons, specifically Medusa."
"I remember, the woman with the hair of snakes who could turn a person to
stone." I piped in.
She nodded, "Before she was beheaded, she did have relations with
humans and had what appeared to be regular appearing children. She sent
them off into the world and they were adopted by the many wealthy
families of the time, but all of them knew their origins. It turned out that
their powers were a bit different than the original's powers were. They
could will the power on or off, thus sparing quite a few senseless people.
Over the past three thousand years, they became one family, intermarrying
between the various families that adopted them. This intermarrying and
slight inbreeding refined the powers more until my generation, where we
can turn people to stone, but also revive them. We now call ourselves
'Medusans,' and I haven't yet met all of them that are still surviving, nor
have I met all of them in the States alone yet. From last reports, we number
about three thousand around the globe."
"Okay," I said, "but why did you do this to me? I didn't do anything wrong
to you."
"I suppose you would perceive it that way. But when I brought you home I
had the impression we were going to make love that night. When you
spurned my advances, I got angry and turned you to stone. Then that anger
was channeled into inspiration, which I just followed until you were almost
finished." She paused and caught her breath, she looked like she was close
to tears as she continued; "My passions had started me along that path. I
realized too late that it was wrong for me to do this to you, it would be even
more wrong to leave you as a statue, or kill you by smashing you into
gravel, so I tried to make you the most beautiful woman I could dream of. I
do apologize for everything, and the only way I can see to make up for it is
to support you as long as you need it. For what it's worth, I do love you."
She was openly crying by this time and the only thing I could do was hold
her and comfort her, cooing softly into her ear as her tears turned to
occasional sobs, then finally we parted and I took my napkin and dabbed
away her remaining tears.
After that, she and I became the quintessential lesbian couple, both of us
dolled up and hitting the clubs. She even got me an engagement and
wedding ring set to keep the guys at bay. I was slowly learning how to
cope with and enjoy life as a woman, though I never did become attracted
to men as I had almost dreaded when I first accepted my fate. Eventually,
she told me that I was formally adopted into her family, and that my
various identification documents were on their way (I had been using a
fake ID to get into the clubs, and we occasionally had to replace it as they
were confiscated from time to time).
I also found out through experimenting that I had Melissa's ability to turn
people to stone and revive them again. With me, however, the transition
happened instantly as opposed to Melissa's slower transition. Melissa
joked that it might have been that I was a block of stone for two months,
but it might actually be true. Since I have no artistic talent, I use my
ability to get away from men who try to overpower me (which has happened a
number of times), thinking I was easy because of the way I was dressed
despite my saying I wasn't interested.
Now I'm officially a Greek citizen, and have access to the vast funds that
the Medusan family controls. I'm still living with Melissa, and she's my
sponsor for American citizenship (I have a green card and everything, nice
and legal). I even have a job (of sorts) to keep my visa valid ... I procure
artist supplies for Melissa.
So, in conclusion I give a friendly warning ... If you go to a pretty girl's
place, make sure you're willing to do whatever she wants, you never know
what she can do to you. Also, remember that when a girl says no, she
means no, unless you want to be part of a large statuary collection
somewhere in Greece.
Lynne
- 08.09.2020
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