The Precious Touch

by Gildsoul

Copyright 2000 by Gildsoul

So begins my first foray into writing, fantasy writing at that, here begins the taleÖ



 
Part 1


Carl Williams anxiously paced back and forth, a tight knot in the pit of his stomach, the precise ticking sound of a grandfather clock and the irregular tap of his impatient footsteps the only sound in the lavishly furnished sitting room. Waiting for to arrival this very evening of an extraordinary item. Minutes before he received a phone call from the guardhouse at the front gate, Mr Kenison, his head of security had arrived in an unmarked van, now winding up the long driveway through grounds of his estate. The low rumble of the van backing up to the rear entrance of his mansion stopped his nervous pacing. Every step leading to this moment raising apprehension.

He began rubbing his forehead from the tension headache starting to grip his temples. Taking out a bottle of aspirin from his desk drawer he gulped down several pills with a quick swallow of astringent quinine water, then stood waitingÖ

If everything was going to plan, a group of hand picked workmen under the supervision of Mr. Kenison had opened a lone crate, removing from itís interior a small chest. The security chief would hand the chest to James, his head butler. The butler would dismiss Mr Kenison and the workmen, then carry the chest though the long corridors and hallways of the gigantic mansion delivering it to him personally.

There was a knock at the door, then his butlerís authoritative British accentuated voice. "Master Williams, the object has been delivered, may I enter, sir?"

Carl quickly forced himself to look composed, then replied in a calm voice, "Yes, James, you may enter."

The roomís massive oak double doors swung open, the butler took a few steps inside and bowed slightly, the ornate chest cradled in both arms. Carl had the butler place the chest on the desk, then dismissed him. James closed the doors leading to the hallway with a muffled thud, his footsteps fading echoes on the marble floor outside. Alone at last, house servants in their quarters, security guards patrolling the grounds outside, solitary, with a prize whose acquisition his vast wealth and power had just barely been able accomplish!

He stood at the desk, the tarnished bronze chest before him, taking a deep breath he unlatched the catch with a dry creaking, then paused for a second. Then slowly opening the ancient chest with trembling hands, gradually, oh so gradually, rusted hinges making a low mournful mumble, breath held at bay. There, nestled in deep purple velvet, a crystal vial, containing a clear bluish liquid, swirling within the fluid were small whorls like tiny sparkling gems. Carl picked up the small container; at last, the vial of Preciousness, an object even more powerful than the fabled philosophers stone!

Placed on the desk previously was a time worn scroll, he began to read aloud the words inked upon the parchment. The incantations within contained the secret to using the magical elixir, for without the writings the elixir was useless. Chanting the Noachian verse he had memorized, the vial began to glow, a sign that it the solution within was coming alive. Then to the second and final step.

He removed the crystal stopper from the vialís neck, raised the small bottle to his lips and drank the phosphorescent liquid. As he felt the liquid permeate his very flesh, an incredible burning pain like molten iron seared his insides, clutching his chest he started to panic, had he had erred, was it a deadly poison he had just ingested? He raised his quaking hands before him, skin glowing with a reddish luminescence; bluish electric sparks crackling from fingertips, heat consuming him from within. Terrifying words filled his mind, "spontaneous human combustion", were the legends true, was he about to die horribly, immolated by magical flame, reduced to a heap of ashes? As an anguished scream started to crawl out of his contorted lips the agony suddenly vanished, followed by a feeling of vigor and energy so incredible that the previous torment might of never been!

From the empty vial a thin wisp of vapor uncoiled before him, materializing into a ghostly form of a thin elderly woman wearing a ceremonial robe, the spectral figure smiled, curtsied and spoke. " I am Ariel, a spirit oracle always at your beck and call, just think the name "Ariel" and I will appear to answer all your questions. Thou are granted these powers for evermore, eternal youth, health, physical invulnerability, teleportation, telepathy, time travel and most important of all, the precious touch. But first you must be taught to use your magical powers."

Laughing with glee Carl burst out, "Then let us begin!"

Arial nodded. "First I will instruct thee on teleportation, look at any place in the room and will yourself there, your magic will do the rest."

Shrugging his shoulders he glanced across the room and imagined himself standing there, nothing happened.

"Concentrate, you must "believe" that you are there and you will be there." Her gentile voice whispering in his ears.

Trying again, concentrating more intently, suddenly he was standing in the corner across the room! Again he willed himself to another part of the room and he was there, popping in and out, appearing in several different places throughout the estate. In one teleportation he startled a maid dusting furniture in another room, disappeared, going for an instant to the moonlit grounds outside, frightening a nearby owl into flight, then rematerialized back were he started from.

"You are a fast learner!" Crossing her arms with a satisfied look she continued. "Usually it takes a bit longer to master teleportation. You seems to have a knack for the other power, telepathy, notice that my lips are not moving?"

Carl realized how right she was; her lips had never moved; yet he could hear her voice clearly! "Marvelous!" he thought, "Direct mind to mind communication! Did you receive that Ariel?"

Her smile turned to a wide grin, her pleasant voice filling his thoughts "Of course. The next power is the most important of all, the Precious Touch. It allows the bearer of the power to transform objects into any precious substance and with time into any precious form."

Carl interjected, "Like King Midas and the golden touch?"

Ariel laughed, "The golden touch is but a poor relative of the precious touch, Midas could only turn things to purest gold, couldnít turn the power off and whatever touched was gold permanently." She continued. " You has the power to turn anything into any substance you desire with the slightest touch, will the power on and off and even restore what you have transformed." Ariel turned towards the large table nearby, pointing at a porcelain vase sitting on top.

"Think the "gold" in your mind while touching the vase."

He tapped the edge of the vase all the while thinking gold, instantly the vase was gold, there was no flash of light, no wave of transformation traveling from were his finger contacted it, in an eyeblink it was just gold! He picked up the vase, enjoying the heavy weight and lustrous feel, then setting the vase down with a dull clank, a look of pure joy on his face.

"Now touch the table, but donít think of gold,"

He laid his hands on the table, there was no change, the table remained polished wood!

"By having to think of a substance while deliberately touching an object allows one to turn the power on and off at will. Touch the table again but think of a different precious substance."

He thought of silver and an instant later the massive walnut table was solid silver, rapping it with his fist produced a sweet metallic clang, it was pure silver!

Ariel smiled " Touch the table again all the while thinking the word restore."

An instant later the silver table turned back to wood. Then touched it again thinking the word "gold" and the table was golden like the vase.

"Very good, now I want you to touch that potted plant in the corner and think of glass.

An instant later the plant, the soil within the pot and the pot itself was a clear glass sculpture sparkling in the light.

" Now take a fireplace poker and smash the plant to pieces, go on, trust me."

Carl got a long iron poker from the hearth and walked over to the glass plant, several careful swings later the ornamental plant was a pile of broken shards.

"Touch any fragment of the glass and think of the plant being restored."

Upon doing so, the shards instantaneously disappeared and rematerialized exactly in the same spot as an unbroken glass object. Gasping he examined the crystal plant, there were no signs of cracks, no sign that moments before it had been an unrecognizable mess of fragments.

"Touch the plant again with a restore command and watchÖ"

He gently touched a clear rigid leaf; suddenly the plant was no longer glass but living greenery again!

"Even if an object you have transformed is destroyed you can restore it by touching the even slightest remains and invoking the spell, you can restore it without touching it as well, but that takes a lot more concentration and time. Any transformed object can be shattered, burned, melted, dissolved, eaten and annihilated and still be restored by you at any time. Itís a power well thought out by the wizards who created it, wishing it to be safe to the bearer and all else."

"They were geniuses!" Carl exclaimed, "Instruct me while I practice my new found abilities. My first question are there substances that I canít transform something into?"

"Any substance, noble metals are precious but there are all sorts of precious substances depending on your viewpoint, for instance the ordinary glass that you turned the plant into, would not such an exquisite crystal sculpture fetch a handsome price? Diamond, ruby, emerald, sapphire, all sorts of gemstones are precious. Marble, bronze, brass, porcelain fines wood, ivory or ebony are precious substances. For the thirsty water is precious, or for the starving food, even common soil is precious to the farmer for you can grow crops with it. The power allows you unlimited transformation into any substance you desire."

By then the pair had exited the drawing room and entered the large greenhouse in the courtyard. Walking up to a 8 foot tall sapling, he turned it to pure gold, suddenly there was a metallic creaking of bending metal, the branches of the golden tree drooping downward. He restored the tree; itís wooden branches instantly jumping back in place.

Ariel spoke. "Purest gold is too weak for such a large object, pure gold is softer and heavier than lead, the branches couldnít bear their own weight. The gold used in jewelry and useful objects are alloyed with stronger metals such as silver, copper or tin to strengthen them. Touch it again, but think 14K gold, the magic will turn it into a gold alloy with the correct strength."

Carl did so, the words 14K gold in his thoughts, again the tree was gold, this time the branches bending so slightly as to be unnoticeable.

The rest of the evening was spent trying other substances, besides precious metals and glass, soon the greenhouse was a forest of plants and trees made of diamond, ruby, sapphire, emerald and other precious materials. Vegetation had been turned to brass, bronze, aluminum and other metal alloys, different plastics, marble, granite even trees turned to rock candy, peppermint and other hard confections. Around three o'clock in the morning exhaustion forced him to retire to a long restful sleep.

He awoke well after noon, refreshed by his peaceful slumber, showered and shaved, idly turning the bathtub to gold and the sink to platinum. Then eating a wonderful brunch on a gold dinner table with gold tableware as he sat on a golden chair. With the sumptuous meal he drank several servings of white wine out of a golden goblet. Usually he had only one glass but in his celebrate mood had quite a few getting a bit drunk in the process. Standing up from the chair, staggering slightly, he strode out of the dining room with tipsy confidence. He knew this was going to be a great day, time for more experiments and just plain all out fun. He should of remembered the rule about drinking and driving causing accidents, wizards and other magic users had a similar rule that drinking and wandering about with supernatural powers at oneís command lead to accidents as well.

Carl walked along the rooms and corridors, transforming all sorts of furniture and bric brac into different substances, favoring precious metal such as gold or platinum, sometimes trying others materials whenever his whim felt like it. An early accident was a housecat sitting near a door, purring at his approach, expecting a friendly pat upon the head. An instant later the surprised and very contented cat was solid brass. Carl didnít notice at all, alcohol blurring his perceptions as he wandered on in a drunken haze. Later a maid found the feline statue and assumed that it was an ornamental doorstop, using the brazen kitty to prop open a door.

Catherine, a very attractive and petite 5 foot 3 inch tall French maid stood at attention when she saw Carl walking down the hallway. The drunkenness had been slowly wearing off and he was weaving less often. He had been idly touching objects along the wall turning them into porcelain; a potted plant became fine china, next a small table with a flower arrangement. He absent-mindedly touched the next "object" along the wall. The "object" was the maid, who instantly became a porcelain statue.

Carl stopped and turned back towards the maid, his mouth silently forming the word "OOPS!" as he realized what he had accidentally done. He had to admit that she was very beautiful as a life-sized china doll, of course he would have to turn her back, but it could wait a minute while he admired the precious touchís handiwork. Her porcelain skin was smooth and glossy, tiny highlights reflecting from her shinny surface. Her black miniskirt uniform had every crease and fold caught in seamless china resembling dark obsidian. He lightly rapped Catherineís shoulder; the hollow clinking sound of fine porcelain her only reply. Deciding to view her from a few feet away he stepping back, stumbled and bumped the statue causing it to fall over. There was a loud crash and the sound of shattering pottery as the beautiful porcelain doll smashed to pieces. The lovely maid became thousands of jagged ceramic shards scattered across the floor. Carl quickly came out of his alcoholic daze, horrified at her awful fate, then sighed with relief, remembering that she was in no real danger and could be restored without harm.

Kneeling down he picked up one of the fragile shards. He noticed that Catherine was not solid porcelain but hollow just like an actual china figurine. The piece he had picked up was about 4 inches long and appeared to be section of her arm. The slender fragment was a thin translucent white material, outer surface colored with a glossy flesh tone glaze. She really was glazed porcelain, as if for all intents and porpoises molded by a potter out of wet clay and fired to hardness in a white-hot kiln. He dropped the piece back atop the pile of debris and picked up a section of her face, a broken clayware mask, with a painted eye, part of a cheek and half of pursed lips. Placing pressure on the thin jagged shell, flexing both hands, it snapped in two with a frail crack.

The largest portion was a hollow piece of elegant shoe with several inches of ankle ending in a jagged end. On the bottom of the shoeís sole was a small white unglazed spot with a small round hole in the center. Just like all porcelain figures, the hole allowed hot air to escape and relieve pressure while the porcelain was being fired.

Then he spotted something that brought a roar of laughter! In perfect lettering on the shoes underside were printed the words "Made in France" well; Catherine was from France, the printing was accurate!

Holding the shoe, he thought the word "restore". Suddenly it was if time flowed backwards, shards flying up off the floor, out of his hand, reassembling into a whole statue in an upright position, without the slightest sign that it had been mere fragments moments before. He grabbed the statue by both shoulders to steady it so it wouldnít fall over again and thought the word "restore" a second time and she became a living flesh and blood woman again.

"That wass wunderful!" was her first utterance.

"What, did you say?" Carl barked.

"I felt you touch me and I suddenzy couldnít move or speak, I felt hard all oovver, but it feltíz so gooood, theníz I fall over and broke to piecesíz, it didznít hurt, in fact if kind of felt nice lyingíz zhere in piecesíz, evenz whenz you broke my face in two, it waz a strange dream, no?"

"You were aware all the time?" Amazed at the revelation.

"Yesíz, but I must of been dreaming, I mustíz of dozed off for a moment."

He dismissed the maid, thinking about the new possibilities that the accident had created. He called Ariel back into existence.

"I just accidentally turned a servant to porcelain, shattered her and then restored her." He said. "After I restored her she remembered the entire experience, how can that be?"

Ariel answered with her usual calm voice. "That is because everyone is an immortal spirit inhabiting their body, the propose of having a living body at oneís command is that it allows one to interact with the physical world. Otherwise one would be a helpless wandering ghost as some poor souls unfortunately end up after the death of their corporal form, if they are unable to reincarnate or ascend to the next spiritual plane."

"Then why didnít she detach from the fragments and fly off to the netherworld as a ghost, her body was destroyed?" Carl wondered.

"Because the existence of the restoration spell, there is the possibility that the transformed, even if that inanimate form is destroyed can be brought back, thus they stay connected to the form no matter what state it is in." Ariel continued. "Eventually after a long time, say a few millennia they might eventually set themselves free, if they wish."

Carl had another question. "Not only was she fully aware, she claimed to feel no pain, in fact claimed that it was very pleasurable, even while a pile of fragments?"

Ariel smiled, "Having a living body is a precious thing, pain is a danger signal to the soul warning that the body may be damaged or even killed, and must be avoided. When oneís body is turned into an inanimate object that can be restored there is no longer any danger. Thus all pain or suffering no longer exists, as well as all negative emotions. They can still feel, but only pleasant sensations, even if they are damaged or destroyed itís all feels wonderful no matter what is done to them. Sadness, fear, anger, loneliness, boredom or hate; all negative emotions are impossible, a nirvana of blissful happiness, joy and other positive feelings are the only emotions they are capable of."

She continued, "The soul exists in multiple dimensions, thus even if oneís form is broken and the pieces separated by distance they can still feel each physical part no matter how far apart. Thatís why she could still feel while innumerable disconnected fragments, she could be turned to wood and burned to ashes, or metal and melted down, alloyed with other metals, even made into new objects and still be in joyful blissfulness forever..."

"Yes" He interrupted, "I get the idea, you can go now." Ariel tended give long-winded explanations.

An hour later Carl called Catherine back to the drawing room.

"I cameíz as ordered sir." The cute maid stood at attention, awaiting orders.

"I want to do a little experiment with you, do you want to experience that wonderful feeling again, but for a bit longer?"

"Oh yesíz sir, it wasíz so magnifique!" She crossed her arms and hugged herself, expression of pleasure upon her face and body language an affirmative.

Carl had her go over to a small pedestal along the wall; the pedestal was a round plastic disk 2 inches thick and about 2 1/2 feet in diameter placed there minutes before by workmen. He had the maid stand upon the disk and hold a sexy pose with one outstretched arm holding level a smaller 8-inch diameter plastic disk. With a chalk pencil he carefully traced out the outlines of her shoes on the disk. Having Catherine step off the pedestal, pulling out a tube of silicone glue from his pocket he placed several small dabs of glue in the chalk outlines. After finishing, the maid stepped back on the pedestal as instructed, placing her feet back exactly in the chalk outlines, duplicating the previous pose. Carl then placed several dabs of glue on the palm and fingertips of her outstretched arm then replaced the smaller disk on her upturned hand. After wiping away the chalk marks around her dainty feet, he carefully positioned her extended arm so the disk she was holding was next to a sofa and perfectly level.

Catherine giggled, it was a strange set of orders, but that was part of the job of being a servant.

"Catherine, I want you to smile a little, there thatís it, hold the pose, and..."

Carl lightly touched her and thought the word "glass"; again she became an inanimate object, instead of porcelain, transparent crystal. As he had hoped, the pedestal, plate in her hand and the glue joining them to her had also been transformed into glass. And since the layers of glue were glass as well it meant that the separate articles of maid, pedestal and disk were one object, as if the statue had been carved or cast in one large piece. Placing his hands on the statueís shoulders he cautiously tried to wobble her back and forth, she was rock steady and rock hard, the broad pedestal made sure that there wouldnít be any repeat of her previous shattering experience. The glass disk perched on her outstretched limb occupied the same exact spot beside the sofa that the top of an end table had previously occupied.

Carl telepathically communicated his thoughts to Catherineís mind. "Catherine" he espered, "can you hear me?"

"Oh yesz, I canz hear you, Oh it feels soooo gooood! Iímz so happy, thank you, donít stop whateverz yourz donez, ohhhh, ummm..." Her thoughts were full of jubilant emotion, he could feel just a tiny portion of the delight that she was experiencing.

He began to carefully examine her beautiful glass figure; every detail was captured in gleaming crystal, room lighting and hundreds of the pinpoint lights from chandeliers glistening across her flawless transparent surface. Her pert short hairstyle was a splendid celebration of glasswork, curls frozen abstractions, individual strands of hair fused into lustrous contours of seamless elegance. It framed her stunning face, a flawless mask of polished elegance, her sensuous lips frozen into steel hard clarity.

The scanty maidís uniform had become a thin mantle of water clear glass, every curve and fold of cloth stiffened into smooth hardness around her trim figure. The individual threads of fabric were gone, united into curtains of refractive splendor as if large glass sheets had been heated to softness and draped over a naked crystal figure. Underneath the layer of glass costume, lingerie had become an insubstantial layer of crystal loveliness as thin as a wineglass brim. Bra slender straps of glass over glass shoulders, holding crystal-clear cups molded around magnificent lens of breasts. Panties metamorphosed into delicate crystalware around sparkling thighs, pleasure between her radiant legs displayed in vitreous clarity. Polished transparent skirt suspended over joyous crystal waist and hips, no longer hidden under opaque fabric. Crystal attire displaying her glorious solid glass body in its naked splendor.

Gently rubbing her smooth arms and shoulders, aroused by contact with her cold impenetrable surface, he began kissing her neck and upper shoulders, excited by the coolness of her glass surface, the silky smoothness of polished crystal a sensual delight. Still massaging her sparkling arms and shoulders, he moved his lips up to the space just under her chin, his mouth nestled along her jawline, kisses slowly following a pathway up to her precious jewelike lips. Kissing her gently upon her unyielding lips, feeling the same electric intensity as kissing a live woman, but with an exotic difference unlike anything in his experience. Licking the edges of her crystal lips, the hard smooth skin sending a tingle through the tip of his tongue. It was incredible; he was having foreplay with a statue!

"OHHH, it feels soo good, donít stop!!!" Catherineís thoughts a musical voice in his love fevered mind."

He began to caress her bosom with his warm lips, moving both hands to her slender glass torso, fondling the chill glassy surface of this exquisite crystal being. Like exhaling on a mirror, his warm breath fogged the glass wherever it touched, leaving brief patches of mist slowly evaporating into nothingness. Perceiving a faint hint of her sensations in his mind, even the parts of her body covered by the rigid shell of her dress could still feel the caress of his hands, the very touch of his lips through layers of inflexible glass costume.

Lowering further, he hugged her slim coke bottle of a waist, lips gently nuzzling the frozen folds of unyielding glass garment sheathing her. A coke bottle waist, the analogy fit, a soft drink bottle and her both made of glass, instead of cola he tasted her psychic aura like a delicious beverage.

Kneeling, he lowered his attentions to the area below her waist. Flicking his finger he tapped the edge the clear inflexible skirt, a musical clinking singing from the glass sculpture. He noticed that within the transparent skirt coruscating glass ruffles were nestled in hardened stratum, tracing the edges of the formally pliant cloth. Placing his fingers on the brim of the skirt, fingertips following the defined edges with delighted attention. Lowering his hands he began to stroke her legs, feeling the cool hard exterior of her graceful sculpted thighs, the image of his hands distorted and lengthened by refraction though the solid glass of her body. Moving his grasp higher in a slow massage, he noticed his sexual arousal climbed faster the closer he moved to her thighs. Passionate emotions were radiating from Catherine, a mix of erotic sensations, emotional thrill and a ceaseless mind bending orgasm. It became easier to hear her thoughts as her hyper orgasm ascended towards Olympic heights.

"Oh yes, oh yesz, yeszz, donít stop, Ohhh, Ohhhh, Yessszzz..." Her silent thoughts roaring though his mind as if real shrieks of carnal joy from of wild lovemaking were echoing from a bedroom. She could sense the physical contact of his hands on her flinty exterior as waves of incredible pleasure, pushing her ever higher into glorious sexual intensity.

Slowly elevating one hand higher along the smooth, sparkling glass of her left leg until it was inside the skirt, he saw that there was an open space wide enough for his hand between her steel hard legs and equally hard skirt and ruffles. Extending his hand upward in this glorious space his fingertips brushed the cool adamantine surface of her paper thin glass panty. Underneath the layer of tempered windowpane her clitoris nestled like precious diamond, sparkling with rainbow glints, bush a frozen rock hard ripple flattened under the radiant glass lingerie encircling her gleaming bottom. Brushing his fingers across her transparent crotch, the sweet sounding squeaking that glass makes from hard rubbing was sensual music to his ears. As he pressed his fingertips against the delicate shell of glass lingerie covering her most private parts an increasing swell of sexual arousal washed over him. Her pleasure was separated from his direct touch by the diminutive thickness of her glass undergarment only a mere fraction of an inch thick. A glass shell as insubstantial as the delicate edge of a fragile wineglass, so thin that the pressure of his fingers flexed its surface slightly. So close, oh, so close, to caressing the glittering gemstone of pleasure with his gentle hands. Catherine had climbed to an orgasmic climax, her mental exclamations of pleasure thundering in his intellect with overpowering strength.

"OHHHH, YESSSSSS, OHHHH, YESSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!" Catherineís mental wail of ultimate bliss was beyond anything that a mere flesh and blood body could endure for but an instant. Now as flint hard glass, untiring, immortal and free of the weakness of the flesh, the climax went on and on, glass body locking her forever atop a pinnacle of orgasm beyond human stamina. Carl reached a mental climax and came down; mind as flaccid and spent as the aftermath of physical climax, she remained locked in her carnal zenith.

Carl pulled away and lay down on the sofa next to her, no longer in direct physical contact, the psychic clamor of Catherineís endless orgasm faded; itís remnants like a summer storm rumbling in the distance. Touching her, he had experienced only a tiny portion of the raging sexual hurricane reverberating permanently inside her lovely crystal form. The brief encounter left him drained, feeling the same exhaustion as the aftermath of an all night sexual marathon. He was sleepy and contented, what had transpired for him had been psychic sexual intercourse almost as intense as bodily copulation. He thought, "I just made love to a glass sculpture!"

Too tired to get up and get a cigarette, too fatigued to even offer Catherine a cigarette, chuckling at the idea. She could no longer smoke, much less inhale, movement, throat and lungs had ceased to exist, her entire body impenetrable glass without the slightest void. He fell into a blissful sleep, comforted by the subtle mental caress of Catherineís perpetual rapture, dreams filled with heavenly visions of the stunning transparent sculpture standing alongside.

Hours later he awoke, gradually coming to full awareness from deep slumber, he sat up, stretching and yawning. Morning brightness streamed through arched windows facing the inner courtyard, the room painted with thousands of rainbow streaks and flashes of light. Catherineís beautiful body was immersed in a shaft of sunlight; prismatic reflections from her glittering form filled the room in a dazzling display of light and color.

He got up for a moment to get a bottle of brandy and drinking glass from the wet bar, poured a small amount of spirits then placed the bottle upon the glass disk on her immovable outstretched arm. As he sat the crystal tumbler upon the level glass surface there was the glassy click of hard glass touching. She made a lovely article of furniture; congratulating himself for thinking of having her hold the disk exactly where the end table had been.

He stayed upon the sofa for almost an hour watching the scintillating light show cast off of the gleaming statue. After the slowly ascending sunís rays had migrated off her he left for a shower, shave, fresh clothes and breakfast, returning shortly, he reached out to Catherineís mind.

"OHHH, I can FEELZ the light goingz thruz mee, master, OHHHH, itz feels sooo GOOOOD!!!!!!!" Her telepathic voice filled with wondrous exultation.

"Do you know what has happened to you?" Carl queried her.

"Yesízz, somehow you turnedíz me into glass, Iímz a statue, and itz feeelllz soooo gooooood!!!" She replied.

"How do you know that?" A surprised Carl asked.

"I canz zee my reflection in zee mirrors alonz the wall, Iím sooo beautiful, I could look at myself forever, Ohhhhhh..."

"You can see?" He had suspected.

"Yeszz, I can see, fell and hear everythingz, oohhh, itz felt sooo good what you did to me last night, thankz you, ohhhh..."

"I felt good to me as well, but Iím going to have to restore you, youíre a nice end table, but funís over, time for you to get back to work." Carlton said firmly.

"But I amíz working, as an end table andíz work of art! Please donít change me back, leave me thisz way forever, PLEASE!!!! You wonít have to pay me any more wages, someone else can use my quarters, and you'll save money! I donít ever want to be human again, I want to be a statue for eternity, I feelz so magnifique!"

Carlton thought, it wouldnít save any money, he would still have to hire a new maid to replace her. She was partly right; she could still serve him as part of his home furnishings and a work of art.

"Iíll leave you this way for the rest of the day, then itís back to work!" Carlton emphasized.

"No longer, PLEASE, a century or twoz at least!"

"Two days, Catherine!"

"No! I beg you, at least a year!"

"A week!"

"Six months, pleasez!!"

"Two weeks!"

"Three months, oh pleasez, oh pleasez, Iím soo happy!"

"Ok! Iíll leave you this way for an entire month, then itís back to work young lady!"

"Oh Thank YOU, Iíll beíz the best statue you ever had, if I do a good enough job as furniture you leave me this way longer, no?"

Carlton sighed, "In a month, then weíll consider it."

She really was a fine work of art, and it would be hard to part with such a precious object, restored she would go back to being an ordinary servant instead of a figure of fine crystal. It would be so tempting to give in to her pleas for eternal beauty and leave her a statue for all time, a visual and sensual delight for his own gratification. Staring lovingly at her gorgeous appearance, so wonderful to the eye, a living inanimate object for his personal pleasure, perhaps he would extend her transformation beyond a month, she did want it after all...

The hours of touching and stroking her had left fingerprints all over her surface, he called one of his employees to clean and wash the newly acquired statue. Watching as a cleaning lady arrived pushing a small cart loaded with bottles, towels and other equipment. She sprayed a fine mist from a bottle filled with light blue window cleaner, after an application of spray the lady began to rub her with a soft white cloth. The familiar squeaking sound of wet cloth against a windowpane vibrated from Catherine, with every caress of the cloth a chirping sound sang from her glass body. Even from across the room he could sense her level of orgasm climb with every wipe of the cleaning ladyís cloth, she enjoyed being washed. Several minutes later the cleaning lady finished, then left, Catherineís form sparkled even brighter, her clear surface pristine in the light, the faint odor of window cleaner slowly fading from the room.

The phone rang; it was his head butler calling. "Master Williams, Miss Eclair is at the front gate, shall I let her in?"

"Of course my good man, escort her right in." Carlton replied, then hung up, a delicious smile on his face. Pamela Éclair was his mistress, a 28-year-old former super model who changed careers to more lucrative pursuits, gold digging for one. He had some surprises to show this golddigger, he couldnít wait...
 
 

End of part 1, Continued in Chapter 2: Golden Golddigger



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