The girl had finally become self-aware.
She knew what she was and she knew why she existed, but knowing these things didn’t make things any easier for her. Up until a few days before, she had been a statue, a hunk of marble cut into the shape of a woman.
But her creator’s ex-wife had sought to get back at the man she had married and so she had devised a devious plan and with the help of her boyfriend, a practitioner in the black arts, she had brought the statue to life and so the girl had come into being.
She had been created to torment her creator. She would let anyone use her body, anyone that is, except for her creator. So, as her creator looked longingly at her, the girl continued to shun the man.
She now knew that her life was destined to be a short one. Her creator was hosting an art show that very evening and at the stroke of midnight, she would turn back to stone. There would be no reprieve and her creator would suffer once again when she was gone.
The only chance that the girl had to break the curse and to continue to live past midnight was to become a real person and the only way to do that was to break the hold that her animator had on her. She had to become an independent person. She had to do what she had been told not to do, and that meant she had to fuck the man who had created her.
The girl found Giuseppe in his studio supervising the preparations for the art show that evening. “Can I talk with you,” she asked hesitantly.
The man knew what the girl thought of him. He’d already been shunned by her often enough to know what she thought and he really didn’t want to take that pain again. “I’m kind of busy,” he told her.
“Please,” the girl pleaded. “I need to talk to you.”
It really wasn’t an excuse. The sculptor really was busy, but then he looked at his most prized possession and his heart melted. He sighed even as he knew he would regret it. “Come on,” he said, “we can talk in my office.”
They walked in silence to the man’s office and then they were inside and the man closed the door behind them. “Okay,” he told her, “we’re here. What’s on your mind?”
The girl was suddenly nervous. She didn’t know what to say. She looked at the man who had carved her form and finally, she started to speak. “First of all,” she told the man, “I want to tell you I’m sorry. I know I’ve treated you horribly, and even if it wasn’t my fault, I … I … I just wanted you to know that … that I’m sorry.”
An apology was the last thing Giuseppe Fiorillo had expected to hear. “You mean that,” he asked hopefully.
The girl nodded glumly. She felt really low about what she had done, but she was about to finally make things right. “I said and did some really terrible things. It wasn’t my fault, but I wanted you to know I was sorry.”
“Whose fault was it?”
The girl explained to the artist how his ex-wife and her black arts boyfriend had animated her and had imposed a personna on her that would make her do terrible things to him. She explained how the animation would end and how she would turn back to stone at midnight. She was sobbing softly as she finished her explanations.
The artist listened patiently and the girl wondered if he’d even believe her. The story was so farfetched that she wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t, but if he didn’t believe her then he wouldn’t help her and she would cease to exist at midnight. The man seemed to think about her words. He finally exhaled a long, slow sigh. “I’m glad you told me. That sounds like something Isabella would do,” he said. “Is there anything we can do to stop it from happening?”
“Yes, there is,” the girl said. She stepped closer to the man who had created her. “You can make me cum.”
Isabella was looking at the clothes in her closet. She knew her ex-husband was having a party that evening and even though she had not been invited, she was bound and determined to be there. She wanted to be there to watch when her ex-husband’s world came crashing down around him.
Her boyfriend rushed into the room. “There’s something wrong,” he said.
“What is it,” Isabella asked.
“The girl is aware of who she is.”
“Girl? What girl? You mean the statue. You think she’s a girl?” Isabella just snorted at her boyfriend. “She’s not a girl. She’s just a piece of rock, and so what if she knows what she is. Big deal. In a few hours, she’s just going to be another hunk of rock.”
The man shook his head. “You don’t understand. If she becomes fully self aware, there could be trouble.”
“Trouble? Yeah, right! What can she do? She’s just a piece of rock.”
“You don’t understand. If Giuseppe fucks her and if he cums inside her, he can give her true life. She will not turn to stone. She will be alive. If Giuseppe cums inside her before–“
“I have to fuck you in the ass.”
The woman just laughed at that. “Nice try,” she told her boyfriend.
“I’m serious,” he told her.
“I’ll bet you are,” the woman told him, “but if you want to get in my ass, you’re going to have to come up with a better story than that.”
“But it’s the truth,” the man protested.
“Sure it is. Sure it is.”
The girl couldn’t help moaning as Giuseppe’s hands fondled her perfectly carved tits. His touch was so tender and caring. She loved it. She wanted him to touch her again.
His hands squeezed her tits and his thumbs played with her nipples and the girl moaned again. “Oh geez,” she moaned, “that feels so good.”
“You like that,” Giuseppe asked.
“You know I do. I want you to, I want you to–“
“I want you to kiss me,” the girl murmurred.
The artist pulled the girl to him and the girl closed her eyes as the man kissed her once, and then again.
The girl’s eyes fluttered open. “Oh wow,” the girl murmurred lustily. “I love the way you do that.” She looked at Giuseppe almost as if she were seeing him for the very first time. “I want you to fuck me,” she told the man.
The man kissed her again and the girl moaned. “You’re sure.”
“I’m sure,” the girl moaned again. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life. I want you to fuck me.”
The man’s hands continued to caress the girl’s body and then he was pushing her down on the bed. The girl moaned softly as her legs opened for the man and then her hands went to her breasts and she kneaded her tits even as the man slipped in between her legs.
The girl felt the man’s cock tickle her pussy and she squeezed her tits even as she looked up at the man. “Fuck me,” she pleaded. “Fuck me,” and then the girl just groaned as she felt the man push his cock inside her eager body.
“You’re sure we have to do this,” Isabella was telling her boyfriend.
“Of course, I’m sure,” her boyfriend growled. “It’s the only way. Now get down on your hands and knees.”
“You better not be shitting me,” Isabella said, “or I’m going to be really pissed at you.
“I’m not shitting you. Now get down there on your hands and knees.”
Reluctantly, Isabella got down on her hands and knees. She still wasn’t sure about this. There was this niggling thought somewhere in the back of her mind that her boyfriend was laughing at her, and that was what bugged her most.
She felt her boyfriend’s hands on her ass and then she felt him stroking a hand between her cheeks. She could feel him pressing a finger against her butt hole and she couldn’t help feeling this was a really bad idea.
She felt the man press his cock between her cheeks then she felt him press it against her hole. This was a really bad idea, she told herself yet again, and then she moaned as she felt the head of that cock push its way past her anal opening.
/>The girl moaned as she felt the artist’s cock push its way even deeper between her legs. She could feel the man’s cock strum against the walls of her pussy and it felt so good. Her hands squeezed her tits and she moaned agai
n. “Come on,” she pleaded, “fuck me.”
She could feel the man pushing even deeper inside her and then he was pulling his cock back only to plunge it inside her hungry, little pussy yet again. Her fingers played with her nipples as she looked up at the man and then she was moaning as the man drove his cock into that pussy yet again.
If the last few days had been a living hell for Giuseppe, this was what made it all better. He loved to hear the girl moan as he pushed his cock inside her pussy. She was all that mattered to him. All he wanted was to give her pleasure.
The girl moaned again. “Your cock feels so good,” she moaned. “It’s better than any cock I’ve ever had before. I was a fool to look anywhere else.”
“It wasn’t you,” the man said as he pushed his cock into that tight, little cunt yet again. “It was my ex-wife that did it to you.”
“But I should have known better,” the girl said and then she moaned yet again. “Your cock is the only one for me.”
Giuseppe loved hearing the girl say that and he pushed his cock inside her yet again and the girl moaned. “You’re going to make me cum,” she told the man. “You’re going to make me cum. Oh please do it. Please make me cum. Please!”
The girl just screamed as the artist’s cock finally pushed her over the edge. He could feel her pussy tightening around his embedded shaft and then she just kept screaming as her pussy came again.
As the girl finally retreated from those orgasmic highs, she looked at the man. “You didn’t cum, did you?”
The man shook his head. “‘Fraid not,” he told her.
“Then I’m still doomed. I’ll turn to stone at midnight if the curse isn’t broken.”
“If the curse isn’t broken,” the man repeated.
The girl stared at him and then a smile slowly spread across her face. “That’s right,” she told him. “We still have lots more time. You made me cum, and now, now, I’m going to make you cum, too.”
Isabella groaned as she took that cock in her ass. “Are you sure we have to do this,” she asked yet again.
Her boyfriend gave her ass a hard slap. “Shut up,” he told her even as he shoved his cock in the girl’s butt. “It’s necessary. Take my word for it.”
The girl was sitting astride Giuseppe’s body and she had his cock in her hand. “So you want to cum inside me,” the girl said coyly. “Well, I think we can make that happen, don’t you?”
Giuseppe just nodded as the girl continued to stroke his cock and then she was bringing her pussy forward and she was rubbing the head of his cock against her cunt.
“Unnhhh, yeah,” the girl groaned, “that’s what I want.” She looked the artist in the eye. “And I’ll bet you want it, too.”
Giuseppe just nodded eagerly.
The girl wedged the man’s cock against her cunt and then she looked the man in the eyes. She gave his cock a squeeze and then she pushed her pussy down on the man’s cock.
Giuseppe groaned as he felt his cock slide deep inside the girl’s cunt.
The girl had her hands on the man’s shoulders even as she pulled her pussy up and almost off the man’s cock and then she was plunging it down again, grinding her pussy against the man’s cock. “Yeah, you like that,” she said. “You like that pussy.”
The man just groaned as that cunt took his cock.
The girl groaned again as she moved her cunt up and down on that cock. “Come on,” she told the man. “Give me what I need. I want to feel it. I want to feel you cum inside me.”
The man groaned again. He could feel it happening.
The girl moaned. She knew it was happening, too. “Come on,” she told him. “Come on.”
Giuseppe grunted as he felt his cock cum.
The girl could feel the cock swelling inside her. She heard the man grunt and then she felt the man shoot his cum deep inside her cunt, and even as she felt it, she felt her cunt cum, too. Her cunt was squeezing that cock.
She loved it. She loved that cock. There was nothing better than the cock in her cunt.
Isabella looked up with a start as she felt something she had never felt before. “Something’s happening,” she cried anxiously. “What’s happening?”
Her boyfriend could feel the cum welling up inside him. Just a few moments longer and he would be cumming in the woman’s ass, but he knew what was happening. “It’s too late,” he told the woman.
“What’s too late,” Isabella asked. “What’s happening?”
The man felt his cum start to shoot but even as he started to shoot his load in Isabella’s butt, he already knew it was too late.
The art show was an overwhelming success. The major critics were there and they all seemed very impressed.
The girl was there, too. She never was in the way but she never moved that far away from the man.
It was close to midnight when Madelaine Ishkariny came up to the artist. She was a writer for “Art World” magazine. “Giuseppe, darling, I couldn’t help noticing this new piece. Everyone’s been admiring it, but there is no name on it. Whatever do you call it?”
Giuseppe turned and looked at the piece in question. There was no doubt which piece the critic was referring to. It was a woman on her hands and knees with a man pushing up behind her. The two of them were naked. The man had his hands on the woman’s hips and it was clear he was pushing himself inside her. The woman had a startled look on her face and those in the know said that she looked remarkably like the artist’s ex-wife.
The artist cleared his throat. “I’m thinking of calling it ‘Woman Gets What She Deserves.'”
“What a remarkable title,” said the art writer. “And so life-like, too.”
The artist cleared his throat again. “Ahem, yes. Yes indeed.”
The clock struck midnight and the chimes rang off the hours and when the final gong sounded, the girl at his side snuggled closer to the artist and she smiled. She was still alive, and the woman who had made her that way, she and her boyfriend, they were the ones up on the pedestal for everyone to see.
Giuseppe was right, the girl thought. The title was perfect. Isabella really had gotten what she deserved.