Heart of Stone – 4

The girl was disturbed by what Miriam had said to her. She knew what Miriam wanted and she knew what Miriam thought. Miriam thought that she was a pawn being used by someone else for that person’s pleasure. Miriam thought that she had to be with Giuseppe, and what most worried the girl was that Miriam just might be right.

The girl didn’t remember coming into being but everyone seemed to think that Giuseppe had carved her out of solid marble. If that were true, then she ought to have some feelings for the man.

Actually, she corrected herself. That wasn’t exactly true. She did have feelings towards him but it was almost an indifference. She had a vague feeling that she didn’t want to be around him and that she didn’t want him to touch her. She didn’t mind having anyone else touch her, and in fact, she craved those touches, but for the man who had made her, the man who she should want, for him, she seemed to be pushing her away.

And then there was the thought of how she had become animated. Statues did not just come to life. So, if that was what happened, there had to be some reason behind it. Something had to have caused it to happen. Maybe Miriam was right, the girl thought again. Maybe, this was some sort of trick being perpetrated by Giuseppe’s ex-wife. Maybe, she was a pawn in someone else’s bigger scheme and that really disturbed her.

She needed help. She needed someone who could guide her, but she had no idea where to look or what to do. The problem, she knew, was that all she really wanted to do was fuck. Maybe that was all she had ever been meant to do.

Some people might call it coincidence. Others might call it fate, and still others might call it karma or destiny or a hundred other names but whatever one called it, it was about to lend a helping hand.

The girl had been walking down the street lost in her thoughts and nearly oblivious to the people around her when she heard someone let out a sharp whistle. “Girl, would you look at you,” she heard a woman say.

She turned to look around her, looking for the source of the voice, but she didn’t see anyone until she noticed an Indian woman coming towards her.

Only, the woman didn’t look like the girl would have expected an Indian woman to look. Instead of a sari, she was wearing a tight, red dress. Instead of the accoutrements that come with the Indian culture, she was dressed like a Westerner. But she was from India, the girl was certain of that. She had dark skin and a dazzling smile and the deepest, darkest eyes that the girl had ever seen.

The woman whistled again. “Girl, would you look at you. Your shakras are all out of alignment.”

“My what,” the girl asked.

“Your shakras.” The woman took another look at her and she shook her head and she extended her hand. “My name is Deepa, and you are one messed up girl.”

“I don’t understand,” said the girl.

“Your shakra is your life force,” the girl said, “and as I said, your’s is a mess. Listen, if you would come with me, I think I can fix you up.”

“I don’t know,” the girl replied hesitantly.

“If you don’t get your shakras back in alignment, then you will never be at peace.”

The girl seemed to come to a decision. “All right,” she said. “All right, let’s do it.”

The young Indian woman led the girl back to her apartment. “Don’t you worry,” she told the girl, “we’ll get you fixed right up.”

“You’ve done this before,” the girl asked.

Deepa smiled at her. “Yes, I’ve done this before. Now, why don’t you lie down and let me take care of you.”

The girl did as she was told and soon Deepa approached her, carrying a tray laden with towels. “What are you going to do,” the girl asked.

“Your shakras are out of alignment so we need to realign them. To do that, we must reach into the very core of your being. But first, we must prepare your body for the realignment.”

Deepa took the towels from the tray one by one and she draped them over the girl’s face and body. The towels were wet and hot and to the girl, it seemed as if the heat from them seemed to seap into the very fiber of her being.

“And now we will begin,” the girl heard Deepa say.

The girl gasped as she felt those fingers strum against her cunt and then she gasped again as she felt something long and hard stroke her between her legs. Whatever it was was only stroking its way along the folds of her cunt but it had not entered her yet.

“We will use this to reach the core of your being,” Deepa said, and even as she said it, she changed the angle of travel of the thing between the girl’s legs.

The girl could feel the thing pushing against her pussy. She could feel her pussy resist and then she felt her pussy relent.

The girl groaned. Whatever it was that was pushing against her was impossibly large. Too large, she thought. Too large to fit, and yet, it was pushing against her, pushing deeper inside her, pushing the walls of her pussy apart, making her pussy make way for it.

Whatever it was was thick. Whatever it was was studded. Whatever it was was stimulating the walls of her cunt.

The girl felt whatever it was retreat a bit but it didn’t pull all the way back and then the young Indian woman was pushing it in again, pushing it deeper and harder inside the young girl’s cunt.

The young Indian woman pulled the thing back only to twist it and plunge it inside the girl’s cunt yet again.

The girl groaned as the thing entered her again.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you,” said the young Indian woman. “You like that cock, don’t you.”

The girl bit down on her lip as she groaned again. “Yeah, I like it,” she moaned.

“I’ll bet you do,” the woman said even as she plunged the cock into the girl’s pussy yet again.

The girl groaned as her pussy took that synthetic cock yet again. So big, she thought, so fucking big.

“Yeah, you like this,” Deepa told the girl, “but now that I have your attention, it’s time to start realigning your shakras.”

The young Indian room continued to work that cock in and out of the young girl’s cunt and the girl continued to moan. She moaned again. It felt so fucking good.

The young Indian woman was turning the girl over and still she was working the cock in and out of her cunt and still the girl moaned. The young Indian woman pressed a dildo up against the young girl’s ass and then her hand stroked the girl’s butt. “No, I’m going to give it to you good.”

The girl moaned as she felt that cock pressed up against her ass. She still had the big one lodged deep inside her cunt and now this second one was insinuating itself inside her ass.

“Now, to put those shakras in alignment,” the young Indian woman exclaimed and with that, she pushed the other cock deep inside the young girl’s butt.

The girl moaned as her ass took that cock and then she moaned again as her ass took even more of that cock.

“Do you feel it,” the young Indian asked. “Do you feel your shakras coming into alignment?”

The girl could only moan in response.

“Perhaps not,” said the young Indian girl. “Perhaps you need even more,” and with that, she twisted and screwed the dildo even deeper into the young girl’s ass.

The girl could only moan pathetically as her tortured bottom took more and more of that dildo. There was the one in her pussy and the one in her ass. She felt so full of cock, so incredibly full, and there was something else, too.

“You can feel it, can’t you,” the Indian girl told her. “You can feel your shakras aligning. I can see it in your aura. It’s working. It’s working.”

The girl just moaned again. Her pussy and her ass just felt so full. She hadn’t even realized that the other woman had undressed herself but then there she was moving around her body and sitting herself in front of
her.

Deepa lifted the young girl’s head and then she was leading the young woman between her legs. “That’s it,” she told the girl. “You just lie there and lick my pussy.”

Self
realization came on the girl as she continued to lick the cunt in front of her. She knew who she was. She knew what had happened to her. She might have found it hard to believe that only days before she had been a statue that was carved out of cold, hard marble, and that now she was a red-hot girl, but she knew it was true.

And as she licked that pussy, she knew even more. She knew she had been brought to life by her maker’s ex-wife and she knew why. She had been brought to life to torment the man. As much as she knew anything, she knew that.

But she was alive now. She had free will. She didn’t have to do what she had been programmed to do. She didn’t have to live by someone else’s rules. She was a living human being. She could make her own rules.

The young Indian woman in front of her was moaning. Even as she licked that young Indian’s cunt, the girl could feel the cocks in her cunt and her ass and she knew she was close. She was going to cum. She was going to cum any moment now, but more than anything, she wanted to make the girl in front of her cum, too.

“You can feel it,” said the young Indian woman. “You can feel the self realization coming upon you. You will cum when you make me cum, and when you do, you will know who you are.”

The girl didn’t care about that. All that mattered to her was making the girl in front of her cum. Her tongue strobed its way over the girl’s cunt and stroked the girl’s clit. She needed to make her cum.

Deepa moaned again even as she pulled the other girl’s mouth even deeper and harder against her cunt. “That’s it,” she moaned. “That’s it. Make me cum. Make me cum.”

The girl’s tongue continued to lash the other girl’s pussy and her clit and the woman continued to moan. She was going to cum, that much was certain. She was going to cum.

And then the young Indian woman gasped as her pussy succumbed to the girl’s mouth and even as she started to cum, so too did the girl with her tongue on her clit.

Suddenly, it was as if a dam broke for the girl who had at one time been carved out of stone.

She knew everything. Giuseppe Fiorillo would be hosting an art show the following day. It would be the biggest moment of his career and at the stroke of midnight during that show, the girl knew that she would again return to stone. On that day that should have been the biggest and best of his life, the man who had carved her would be deprived of the woman he loved.

And as the girl continued to taste the cum of the girl in front of her, she knew one more thing. There was a way to break the curse. If she could become a person in her own right, if she could make a decision that was not preordained by the animator, then there was a chance that she could transfer her burden from her to the people who had brought her to life.

It was a long shot, but it was the only shot she had.

to be continued …

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