Pygmalion
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Pygmalion's Chisel free porn video
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This work of fiction (pack of lies) is copyrighted by the author.
Permission is hereby granted to re-post it to any FREE site provided the
title, text, and author's name are unchanged.
The names and/or descriptions of all persons, locations, firms and events
are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance, or perceived
resemblance, to actual persons, locations, firms, or events is purely
coincidental and unintentional. Honest!
Anyone wishing to employ the device herein described is welcome to do so
provided they adhere to the rules, some of which are stated in the tale
and listed, along with all others, in the appendix.
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Pygmalion's Chisel
By
Watsit Tuya
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Prologue: The story of Pygmalion
(Written by Thomas Bullfinch)
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"Pygmalion...was a sculptor, and had made with wonderful skill a statue
of ivory, so beautiful that no living woman came anywhere near it. It was
indeed the perfect semblance of a maiden that seemed to be alive, and
only prevented from moving by modesty.
...Pygmalion admired his own work, and at last fell in love with the
counterfeit creation....
The festival of Aphrodite was at hand....When Pygmalion had performed his
part in the solemnities, he stood before the altar and timidly said, "Ye
gods, who can do all things, give me, I pray you, for my wife" - he dared
not say "my ivory virgin," but said instead - "one like my ivory virgin."
Aphrodite, who was present at the festival, heard him and knew the
thought he would have uttered; and, as an omen of her favour, caused the
flame on the altar to shoot up thrice in a fiery point into the air. When
he returned home, he went to see his statue, and leaning over the couch,
gave a kiss to the mouth. It seemed to be warm. He pressed its lips
again, he laid his hand upon the limbs; the ivory felt soft to his touch
and yielded to his fingers....
While he stands astonished and glad, though doubting, and fears he may be
mistaken, again and again with a lover's ardor he touches the object of
his hopes...Then at last the votary of Aphrodite found words to thank the
goddess, and pressed his lips upon lips as real as his own. The virgin
felt the kisses and blushed, and opening her timid eyes to the light,
fixed them at the same moment on her lover. Aphrodite blessed the
nuptials she had formed...."
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Prologue Part II:
Pygmalion's Chisel; Aphrodite's Bequest
(Author: Unknown)
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"...and taking up the chisel, with which Pygmalion had commenced the
forming of the virgin, transformed it into a silver ring. This ring did
the goddess place upon the third finger of her left hand, where it
remained until the twilight of the age of the Olympian gods. As her
parting gift to those who truly love, she sent it into the mortal realm
so any who are worthy might, as had Pygmalion, lend form and substance to
love and beauty."
________________________________________________________________________
Sometimes, I wished I was still single. Right after that came the self-
loathing. Wishing I was single was my cowardly way of wishing my son
hadn't been born.
Our doctor had expressed misgivings during the pregnancy but, as it
progressed with no serious complications, was confident that any
difficulties with the delivery would be manageable. What actually
happened was, in the words of one of the nurses, 'as close to a
catastrophe as I've ever seen'. We were later told it was little short of
a miracle that neither Jake nor his mother died.
They told us there 'could' be 'some' brain damage, which was confirmed
with testing over several months. Jake was almost two but his mental age
was judged to be only about six months. We'd been told he might attain
the mental acumen and motor skills of a seven or eight year old by the
time he was grown. That prospect didn't exactly fill my heart with
anticipation.
My reverie was disrupted by the chime from the bell tower in the park,
letting me know my lunch break was over. I had just dumped my trash when
a glimmer in the grass caught my eye. Thinking it was a gum wrapper, I
picked it up and found it was a silver ring.
The ring had a heavy, plain band with a flat square on its upper side
within which was a relief of two sturdy hands holding a hammer and
chisel. I examined it closely but saw nothing that might serve to
identify either artisan or owner. I dropped it into my pocket, thinking I
would turn it in to the lost and found at my company, but there was no
one at the security desk and I had to get back to work.
I was nearly home before the ring crossed my mind again. While filling my
tank, I took it from my pocket and tried once more to locate some marking
to help identify the owner. I figured it had to be worth something to
someone. The relief showed veins standing out in the forearms and hands
and, by moving it in the light, I could see what looked like the play of
muscles under the skin. That level of artistry didn't come cheap, even
for a piece that was otherwise unadorned. Putting it back I shut off the
pump, paid for my gas, and resumed my journey.
Once home I sat in the driveway, preparing myself. Seeing the curtain in
the window over the kitchen sink move, I knew Paula was aware of my
arrival. She spent her days looking after Jake until I came home to help
out. It didn't seem like much of a life for her but she never really
complained.
On an impulse, I dug out the ring and put it on. There was a brief
dizziness followed by a vision of a large room. At the far end was a man
leaning over a couch, kissing a young woman. Just to the left was another
woman who was almost, but not quite, translucent. The second woman was so
beautiful, looking directly at her was nearly painful. As I took in the
scene I 'recognized' the people. The man was Pygmalion and the young
woman was the image of his ideal woman, given life by Aphrodite. The
almost-translucent woman was the goddess who, as I watched, picked up one
of the sculptor's tools and turned it into the ring I now wore.
As the scene faded, the ring 'told' me I could use it to physically
change a person, if I adhered to its requirements. The most important of
them were that I had to truly love the one upon whom the ring was to be
used, it had to be done to benefit the subject, and the subject had to
fully understand, and freely consent to, the outcome.
The thing that really got me going was that the subject would be in
perfect health, in all respects, once transformed. I was certain this was
the means to end our suffering. Jake, Paula, and I could be the family we
should have been from the start. Excited with the possibilities, I went
inside.
Paula noticed and asked what had me smiling. I nearly told her, but
didn't want to get her hopes up. After all, the vision could have just
been me grasping at straws. Instead, I told her there was a rumor at work
that the company was going to expand and a lot of people, including me,
would be getting promotions.
"Again? Wasn't that floating around last year?"
"Yeah, but this time I heard it from Burton in financial..."
"Well, I hope it's true, but don't you believe it 'til it happens."
The rumor existed, though I placed less stock in it than she did. Burton
may have been in financial, but was gullible as anyone. I'd only used it
to deflect her inquiry without resorting to lying, which is something I
don't do well.
"You're right, honey. I'll wait and see."
"We'll wait and see, Ben. Regardless, it's good to see you smile. You
should do more of that."
Thinking of the ring, I promised to smile at least once a week. She gave
me a light slap on the shoulder, then asked me to check on Jake and watch
the pot roast while she cleaned up and caught a quick nap.
In Jake's room, I stood over the crib and looked at my son. He was asleep
and might have been dreaming. Resisting the urge to shake him awake and
tell him his dream would be coming true, I checked his diaper.
He was dry as a Prohibition rally and the roast needed about another
thirty minutes, so I went into the den and grabbed my sketch pad. I'd
discovered a talent for drawing when I was about nine, but all attempts
to teach me to draw went for naught. It was just a release for me. Over
the years, I must've used up fifty pads and discarded all but a handful
of my creations. Now, my pastime would have a purpose.
I had to fashion an image as a template for the transformation. The face
needed to bear at least a passing resemblance to the intended subject's,
though the form could be altered as much, or little, as necessary to
reflect their and/or my desires. However, the ring would only change them
from human to human. That meant all elements of the image had to be
human, or no transformation would occur.
If color was applied to any part of the image the transformation would
include it, provided the color was natural for a human. If there was
anything else physical they or I wanted to change, I just had to think of
the image as having that attribute. I could not change their personality,
identity, or social status. The ring would not create an entirely new
person. That power is reserved to deities, a job for which I was entirely
unsuited.
Being quite content with Jake's complexion and hair, and big brown eyes,
I decided to just draw him as he was, though more alert and robust. Right
about then I realized what I intended to do wouldn't work.
Certainly I loved Jake and wanted, more than anything, to help him. The
stumbling block was that, even healthy, he wouldn't have been able to
'fully understand, and freely consent'. Dejected, I tossed the pad onto
the shelf.
My misery lasted about twenty seconds because it occurred to me there was
another approach to this. Digging out one of our picture albums, I found
a photo of Paula in a bathing suit at a beach party my parents threw
about a month before she and I got married. She was in a pinup pose with
a beach ball on her hip, winking at the camera and looking sexy as I'd
ever seen. Of course, I was deeply in love so my opinion was hopelessly
biased.
Actually, Paula was quite pretty but insecure about her figure, mostly
because of her shoulders, waist, and hips. 'Too wide, too thick, and too
narrow' was the summation of her woes. I had gotten her to agree to
attend the party by assuring her we would leave if she felt
uncomfortable. She spent a couple of days locating a bathing suit that
concealed as many of her 'flaws' as possible and was the hit of the
party. Dad even joked about taking her from me, which earned him a finger
wag from Mom.
Okay, I loved Paula, and using the ring would definitely benefit her. The
only potential snag was that she would probably try to have me committed
when I told her my intention.
"Nothing ventured..."
Using the picture as a guide, I drew her as a pinup girl. First, I made
an outline in the same pose, but with more of an hourglass shape. Her
shoulders became more narrow and rounded, the lines flowing to a slender
waist that flared into hips that matched the shoulders' breadth. I
shortened her torso and made her legs correspondingly longer. My main
weakness as an artist was hands and feet. The ones I drew tended to be
somewhat disproportianate. The image didn't have to be minutely detailed
but had to show the whole figure so I drew in hands and feet, taking
pains to get the sizes right.
"Hmm, not bad."
Like a lot of women, Paula was dissatisfied with her breasts. Personally,
I'd always subscribed to the view that more than a handful is a waste,
but I have pretty big hands. Since this was for her I made her breasts
fuller and slightly more prominent. Glancing at the clock, I saw there
were still ten minutes until the roast would be done.
Paula's face had always struck me as almost ideal but, after a moment of
study, I decided to make some minor changes. Her nose got a wee bit
smaller, her jaw a little narrower, and her lips a touch plumper.
Crowning my creation with a mane a glamour model would envy, I looked her
over and wondered what this babe ever saw in a slob like me. Just as I
finished, the oven's timer went off and Paula called me to supper.
"Hey, hon. How's Jake?"
"Good as gold. How was the nap?"
"Short, but restful. What'cha got?"
I laid the pad on top of the 'fridge.
"Oh, it can wait."
She shrugged an 'OK' and we sat down to eat. Afterward, we cleaned up the
kitchen, then she headed to the back to check on Jake.
"Before you do that, let me show you something."
Retrieving the pad, I showed her the drawing.
"Wow. Who is she?"
"Look at the face."
"OK, the face looks like me...sorta, but where did...?"
"A picture of you at the beach party my parents threw, right before we
got married."
"Uh, I seem to recall wearing a bathing suit."
"Artistic license. It got in the way of your beauty."
She rolled her eyes a little at that.
"Is there a point, 'cause Jake should be waking up any minute..."
I decided to plunge ahead.
"This is you...as you could be."
"Get real. I couldn't come close to looking like that without tons of
surgery...or some kind of..."
"...magic?"
Seeing the ring, she gave a small chuckle.
"A magic ring? Really, Ben."
That brought home how foolish I was being. If, that morning, someone had
told me I would seriously believe in something like this, I would have
asked for a shot of whatever they were drinking. I firmly believed magic
was true only in fairy tales and cheesy movies, not the real world. Yet,
I had been within a hair of asking Paula to let me change her into the
embodiment of a drawing in hopes that our son would be healed in the
process.
"You're right. I don't know what came over..."
"Wait. You really think...?"
"Maybe...I-I don't know."
By now I was close to tears, so she moved closer, put her arms around me,
and laid her head on my shoulder. After a minute, she raised her face and
looked me in the eye.
"Tell me everything."
So I did, including the vision and learning what the ring would do, from
the moment I found it up to doing the drawing. When I wound down she sat
with her chin cupped in one hand, looking toward the stove. After a
couple of minutes, I broke what had become a truly uncomfortable silence.
"Paula?"
"The...vision was what convinced you?"
"No. It was the ring..."
"...'telling' you how it works."
"Not in words. The knowledge was just...there."
"If it works, it'll only change me physically?"
She put a lot of emphasis on 'If'.
I explained that the transformation, 'If' it happened, would create an
external reality in which the woman in the drawing was Paula Diane
Landham, nee Russo; my wife and Jake's mother. Her personality and
identity would remain intact. We'd remember everything we both knew about
her before, though no one else would.
She mulled it over a few seconds.
"You wanted to use it on Jake..."
"...but I can't..."
"...because he can't agree to it. You think this will...?"
"If I've done it right...maybe. We'll only get one shot at this, so I'm
hoping..."
"We'll hope together. Let's do it."
I started to put the ring on my right hand but, remembering the vision of
Aphrodite putting it on her left ring finger, slipped off my wedding band
and handed it to Paula. She grasped it in her left hand as I slipped the
Chisel on my third finger. Picking up the pad, I touched the ring to the
drawing and we both watched as it was...sucked in, not even leaving
indentations in the paper.
Once the image had been absorbed by the ring, I extended my hand to
Paula.
"It has to be your choice."
She nodded and extended her right hand. For a split second, I was afraid
she would change her mind. Her finger hovered for about one heartbeat,
then she drew a deep breath and closed the last half inch.
The process probably took no more than a minute. Paula's appearance
shifted like a time-lapse film of a flower going from bud to blossom. Her
face softened and smoothed as her features changed to match my drawing.
At the same time, her hair became thicker, shinier, and longer as her
frame narrowed and legs lengthened. As that was occurring, every square
inch of her skin became utterly flawless, her waist shrank, and her
breasts assumed their new proportions.
I hadn't noticed, but she was frozen in place while undergoing the
transformation. Once it was over, she looked at me and smiled.
"It worked?"
"And how! Honey...you're as beautiful out..."
"Jake! Did...?"
"I think so, but...let's see."
I'm sure we both knew, but had to see for ourselves. Peeking into his
room, the first thing that registered was that the crib was gone.
Instead, there was a set of twin beds in an L in the corner under the
window. Jake was in the one against the far wall, just waking from his
nap. Upon seeing us, he clambered to the floor.
"Daddy! Mommy!"
Trying to hold back tears of joy, and with a lump in my throat the size
of Gibraltar, I scooped him up.
"Hey there, Big Guy. Miss me?"
His reply was a grin, a nod, and a hug. After giving me a good squeeze,
he reached for Paula.
"Mommy."
I could see she was ready to have a good long 'cry for happy', but she
held it until he had his arms around her neck. After she got herself more
under control, she checked to see if he had sprung a leak during his nap.
"All dry. Goodness, you're getting to be such a big boy. Need potty?"
He nodded an affirmative so, after she set him down and helped him out of
his training pants, he made a beeline for his bathroom.
"Call when you're finished. Daddy and I'll be right here."
We sat on the spare bed. After a moment, she turned to me.
"Everything's changed."
"Not quite. Just things relating to Philip Daniel Russo."
It was probably the first time I had spoken Paula's full birth name since
learning of it.
"No one remembers..."
"We do. You, because he's part of your identity, and me, because...I
erased him. As far as everyone else is concerned, Philip never existed."
"So now, I've always been female..."
"...and healthy as a horse."
"That means my sister..."
"...bless her twenty-four karat heart..."
"...wasn't my surrogate and didn't nearly die giving us a child."
An amazed look came over her.
"Ben! I remember..."
"...being pregnant? Giving birth?"
"All of it. From 'Good news' to 'Congratulations'. But, I also remember
Tina being the one... "
"Me, too. We both have two sets of memories for everything to do with
Jake..."
"...and Philip. My two sets go all the way back to Day One."
"Well, concentrate on the 'Paula' memories. Those are the only ones
anyone else has."
We paused, expecting our son to call for assistance.
"One thing I don't get..."
"Why didn't I think of this first, instead of just trying to change
Jake?"
"Yeah. You must've known I wanted, more than anything, to be truly
female."
"Because, as far as I was concerned, you were a woman. Even after you
told me about being born male, I could never think of you as anything
else."
She gave a wry smile and a small shake of her head.
"I don't know whether to kiss you or slug you for that."
Just then, Jake let us know he was finished. After cleaning him up we set
up his high chair in the living room and watched TV, and him, while he
dined. It was Paula who noticed the Chisel was no longer on my finger,
replaced by the wedding band I had given her to hold.
"Ben, the ring..."
I looked and shrugged.
"It's work is done, so it left. Kind of like the Lone Ranger."
"That's appropriate."
I gave her my best mildly puzzled look.
"Well, it is a silver ring."
We both chuckled at that and Jake joined in, though I doubt he really got
the joke.
Two year old boys have a lot of energy but little stamina, so he faded
out before ten. As we were putting him to bed, Paula looked around the
room. Her eyes went to the extra bed.
"Must be kind of lonely, being an only child."
I put my arms around her from behind and drew her to me.
"Empty bed here, empty room down the hall..."
"Can we afford it? Even with the big promotion you'll get when the
company expands?"
I turned her around, gave a light swat to her shapely bottom, and leaned
my forehead against hers.
"We can afford anything we really want. We may not always have the latest
and best of everything..."
"...except kids. Each new one will be 'the latest' and they'll all be
'the best'. What d'ya say to that?"
"OK, but no more than a dozen...or two."
We stopped at five, including Jake. Bringing up two boys and three girls
can take a lot out of you.
It's been almost twenty-two years since then. At first, we sort of felt
our way along in dealing with family and friends. I think we both were
waiting for someone to comment on Paula's or Jake's transformation. Of
course, they never did.
Knowing our memories of the event would become fuzzy, I wrote it all down
the next day and put the manuscript in a box of old family pictures. It
was Paula's idea to put it on the Internet, after changing names 'to
protect the innocent'. Certainly, there must be others who've encountered
the Chisel. After all, it's been around over two millenia, so it isn't
likely we're the only ones, and the Web is a great place to tell stories
like this.
Anyone?
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Appendix: Pygmalion's Chisel
General Notes
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Appearance:
The Chisel appears as a silver ring. If a man is the intended wielder, it
will be a heavy, plain band with a flat square on its upper side within
which is a relief of two sturdy hands holding a hammer and chisel. The
relief shows veins standing out on the forearms and hands. Moving it in
the light, one will see what appears to be the play of muscles under the
skin
For a woman the ring's band is narrower and the square correspondingly
smaller. The hands in the relief are more delicate with slender forearms.
The veins in hands and forearms, though visible, are much less prominent
than in the man's version. Moving it in the light produces the same
illusion of movement of muscles under the skin.
-------------
Powers:
The Chisel can effect a physical change in any suitable human subject.
The change can only be to another human form.
The subject's health will become perfect in all respects.
-------------
Limitations:
The wielder cannot be the subject.
The identity, personality, or social status of the subject cannot be
altered.
The wielder must truly love the subject and have the benefit of the
subject as their primary reason for using the Chisel.
The subject must fully understand, and freely consent to, the outcome. If
the wielder is not completely honest regarding their purpose, no
transformation will occur.
The Chisel must be employed within one lunar cycle after coming into the
wielder's possession. After that time it, and all knowledge of its
existence within the wielder's circle of acquaintance, will vanish.
-------------
Method of Use:
The wielder must fashion an image as a template for the transformation.
The image can be done by any method in any medium, or combination of
media, provided it is palpable. An image created on a computer, for
example, must be printed out before it can be used. A pre-existing image,
such as a photograph or figurine, can be used if the wielder alters it in
some way, thus putting their personal touch on it.. The image does not
have to be exactingly detailed but all elements must be recognizably
human.
The image must be of the whole figure. Leaving off any part renders it
useless.
The image can be either nude or clothed, as long as the clothing does not
obscure the lines of the body.
If color is applied to any part of the image it will become part of the
template. The color, or colors, employed must be natural to humans,
otherwise the image will be unuseable.
The wielder can affect physical factors other than form and color by what
they think of the image as it is being fashioned.
The wielder must wear the ring while acquiring and transferring the
image. The hand or digit upon which they place it is their choice.
-------------
Miscellaneous:
The wielder is selected by the Chisel. Once in their possession it cannot
be taken, given away, or discarded. Once employed, or after a lunar cycle
has passed, it will leave them. Knowledge of the Chisel will remain only
if it is used.
Once the transformation has been accomplished, only the wielder and
subject will remember both the former and current realities. The subject
remembers because events that transpired in the former reality helped
shape their personality. For the wielder, it is their reward...or
punishment.
*************************************************************************
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