Julie woke up, groggy and wondering where she was. The last thing she remembered, she and her roommate Kirsten had just gotten into Julie's car to drive home from a movie, and Kirsten remarked that she smelled something funny. Now Julie was here. The room she was in was about 8 feet square, with 3 featureless walls. The fourth wall had a small niche in which was a basin about 2 feet square.
Several bags of cement mix were stacked in the corner near the basin. In the center of the room was a large metal x-frame, to which Kirsten was attached, naked. Kirsten was an attractive brunette in her early twenties, with full, pert breasts. Apparently she also kept herself shaved down below, or someone had shaved her while they were unconscious. That last thought, of whoever handled them naked, made Julie shudder.
Julie was blonde and also quite attractive, if only a little less so than Kirsten. Julie was also naked, with the exception of what seemed like a tight metal thong around her waist and between her legs. It seemed like some sort of chastity belt from the middle ages.
She spent a couple minutes trying to see if she could remove the metal belt with no success. It cinched around her waist too tightly, and she couldn't even slip her fingers under it to pull. It didn't seem to be hurting her, so she took a look at Kirsten. Julie managed to bring Kirsten around with only minimal effort.
"What happened? Where are we? Get me off this thing!" Kirsten got more panicked with each moment, until she was struggling furiously with her bonds. Metal bands encircled her wrists, thighs, ankles, and neck. Julie tried to open or loosen the bands but to no avail, they were securely locked. "I can't get them open," Julie started to say, when a voice boomed from the ceiling,
"Excessive motion or attempts to escape will be punished severely." The voice sounded like one of those distorted voices they use to disguise people's real voices on TV. At that moment, Kirsten began to twitch uncontrollably from the electric current running through her restraints. After a few moments the currents died down, leaving Kirsten panting for breath and whimpering in pain.
"Failure to obey will result in punishment. Doing what you are told will result in a reward," stated the voice. "Now, girl who is able to move, I will call you Sculptress. Girl strapped to frame, Art. Sculptress, pick up a bag of cement mix and empty it into the basin. Now."
Julie just stood there dumbfounded. Sculptress? Art? Huh? What was their captor talking about? Her eyes narrowed. She wasn't going to play whatever sick game this was! "No!" she stated. Suddenly Kirsten started twitching from shocks again, only this time they didn't die down. Kirsten began to shriek with each heaving breath. She twitched and writing in her restraints, her face a rictus of pain.
"The punishment will continue until you comply, Sculptress," stated the voice calmly. Seeing she had no choice, Julie picked up a bag of cement. It was quite heavy and she had to use both hands to lift it. Loose particles of cement sprinkled down her front. As soon as she picked it up, the shocks stopped.
Kirsten slumped down again, crying. Julie managed to tear a hole in one corner of the bag, and dump most of the dry mix into the basin. The rest got all over her. She was surprised to feel a light tingle in her crotch, under the metal belt. It felt a little bit good. Was this her "reward" for compliance? Once she was done emptying the bag into the basin, water began to pour into the basin from a small tube in the niche. After a couple minutes, the flow stopped. "Now mix the cement, Sculptress," stated the voice.
"With what?" asked Julie, looking around for tools and finding none. If there were tools, maybe she could use them to escape!
"Use your hands. Now,” stated the voice. Julie briefly considered mixing the cement with her hands. Surely he would let her wash it off, and she didn't want Kirsten to get shocked again. Kirsten was watching Julie, hoping not to get punished again. Julie plunged her hands into the basin. The water that was used was cool, and if Julie closed her eyes she could pretend she was mixing mud. But it wasn't mud. She pulled her fingers through the mixture, kneading and mixing with her hands, almost like flour in water.
The depth of the basin meant she had to put most of her arms into it to reach bottom. As she mixed the cement, she felt a growing warmth in her groin. It began to feel better and better the more she mixed. After about 10 minutes, she had the cement mixed. It was a gooey, thick mass that clung like gray mud to her arms when she withdrew them. "Now cover your friend completely with the cement," said the voice.
"What? No!" cried Julie, aghast at the idea of imprisoning Kirsten in cement. Suddenly Kirsten started to flail around from shocks again. Julie railed against the wall, pounding on it. "Stop it! Stop shocking her!" she cried, but there was no change. Her cement covered fists left gray splotches on the otherwise featureless wall. But no matter how much she pleaded, or maybe because of it, the torture continued. Soon she began to smell a burning smell coming from Kirsten, who had become hoarse from screaming. "Okay, okay," relented Julie as she reached to smear cement on her friend. The shocks stopped immediately, and the warmth in her crotch resumed with renewed intensity. Kirsten hung motionless, croaking out, "please."
Julie decided that if she had to cover her friend in cement, at least it was better than Kirsten dying. She began by smoothing a layer up Kirsten's left leg. She slowly coated the calf, and then did the calf of the right leg. Julie then coated the lower thighs of each leg. Switching to Kirsten's arms. She covered each gently from wrist to shoulder with a thin layer of cement. Julie worked cement in between each of Kirsten's toes, covering her feet.
Next Julie did the hands, leaving Kirsten's arms as cement laden as her own. Now Kirsten was covered in cement from shoulder to fingertip, and mid thigh to feet. As Julie did this she began to get more and more sexually excited. She knew it was the belt, but it felt so good to cover her friend with cement. Julie started the torso with less apprehension. The frame was small and thin, and Kirsten back was easily coated with a thin layer. Next Kirsten's midriff was coated, leaving only her breasts, crotch and head free of cement.
Julie hesitated at this point. She really didn't want to coat her friends face, and really didn't want to touch Kirsten's breasts or sex. When Julie stopped, the pleasure also died down. Suddenly she was afraid the shocks would start again. She dove to the task of covering Kirsten's breasts, trying not to think about where she was touching another woman. The pleasure came back, stronger than before. Kirsten's nipples were hard from the cool cement as it slowly was spread across her beautiful bosom. When Julie knelt to begin on Kirsten's crotch, Kirsten groaned, "Julie, no, let him shock me. Please don't cover me with cement down there." But Julie didn't care at this point. She was getting on the verge of orgasm and knew she wouldn't get it until her friend was completely covered.
Julie covered Kirsten's upper thighs with the thick gray goo, the turned to her firm buttocks. After covering those, she started to sensually rub the cement between Kirsten's legs, covering her pussy and asshole. Julie parted Kirsten's pussy lips, making sure to thoroughly coat the inner lips and clitoris as well. Julie had grown glassy eyed and was panting from the extreme levels of pleasure the belt was producing. She didn't care that she had just given her roommate cement underwear; in fact, she didn't even think of Kirsten as a roommate, or even a person, but as Art. And Julie couldn't come until Art was finished. Julie grabbed a new handful of cement and moved to cover Kirsten's face. "Please not my face, Julie. Please stop this. Let him kill me with the shocks," pled poor Kirsten.
But her pleas fell on deaf ears. Julie heard nothing- Art doesn't talk. Must be her imagination. Julie worked cement into her sculpture's hair, making sure each strand was coated well. She covered the back of the neck, then the mouth and nose. The mouth seemed to fall open sometimes, so she made sure to coat the interior of it just in case. Kirsten's tongue and teeth became a dull gritty gray. Lastly, she covered up Kirsten's eyes, sealing them shut with caked cement.
Kirsten let out a tear, which left a small clean trail down her face, a trail that was quickly obliterated by Julie's finger following it down. As soon as Julie covered the last bit of skin, she exploded into an unbelievable orgasm. Recovering from her orgasm a few moments later, Julie came back to her senses. She looked up at her friend, covered completely in cement. Kirsten was beautiful on the frame, each feature highlighted by a thin layer of slowly drying cement. "What have I done?" she thought, looking for anything to scrape the cement from her friend. Julie smelled something funny, which was her last thought before collapsing into unconsciousness.
Kirsten's unconscious form was taken from the room, where she was posed and various tubing was installed. A feeding tube was inserted into one nostril, with a breathing tube in the other. Small tubes were also attached to her anus, urethra, and vagina to allow her bodily functions to continue. She was kept unconscious in her pose until the cement hardened and cured, after which she was relocated to a gallery showcasing other lovely girls from around the world who shared her fate.
She would wake up into a world devoid of any sensation, devoid of sight, sound, taste, or smell, her only physical contact the ever-present cement hugging her like a second skin. Her only sense of the passage of time came from her daily feeding, and that just from the warmth and fullness in her belly. The only action she was capable of was a muted whimper, sound barely escaping through her sealed mouth. Visitors in the gallery would come and stare at her beautiful naked form, marveling at how well her nipples and clit stood out in their stony prison. Kirsten prayed for a quick death, not knowing most of the girls in the collection lasted years.
Julie woke up back in her car at the movie theater. Her tape player was going, speaking in a voice she could barely hear at all, and she certainly could make out no words. She went to adjust the volume, but found her cement-covered arms hardened to the steering wheel. Suddenly it all came back to her, and she started crying, tape forgotten. Her hysterics caught the attention of passerby, and she was taken to the hospital.
After they had removed the cement casts from her arms, and she had spent endless hours telling and retelling her story to the police, they finally let her go home. On the way home, she was walking in the road next to a freshly poured sidewalk, when she felt the strong need to push a passerby in! As the hapless bystander fell into the cement face first, Julie felt a rush in her groin. She ran home, pursued by the shouts of angry workers, where she could barely tear her clothes of fast enough to masturbate. "What happened to me? Why did I do that? Why did I enjoy it?" she thought.
Little did she know that the forgotten tape in her car had implanted hypnotic suggestions that she be sexually excited at covering people in cement. She also didn't know that she had signed her hospital release form as Sculptress.