Trapped!

by Andrew L. Whitaker
copyright 1992

This is a work of fiction. It may be reproduced, copied, emailed, etc. as long as this disclaimer and the author's name appear at the top of it.

Peter turned the jeep off the road and headed down a dusty trail into the woods. He had never ventured this far from town before, but had always wanted to four-wheel it in these woods as he had heard rumors that the roads were intense. He drove along humming to the radio and bouncing along the uneven dirt road. Judging from the road and surouding fauna, no one had been down this road in some time, he thought to himself. Trees hung down over the road so heavily that in some places, Peter had to slow down and recon the road ahead before passing through.

After some time, Peter realized that he was quite deep in the woods and there was not a soul in sight. He stopped the jeep and turned the engine off and listened to the evening begin to happen around him. Bugs came alive as the sun began to set, and Peter rubbed his crotch thoughtfully, drinking it all in.

His rubbing became more insistent as he realized that he was totally alone and in need of cumming quite badly. He unbuttoned his jeans and fished his throbbing erection from his shorts. He slowly stroked his rod, adding some spit at several intervals until he was beating himself into a virtual frenzy in the middle of this veritable jungle. As his orgasm became imminent, he arched his legs and shot his sticky load all over the roll bar, seats, steering wheel and himself.

He finally let go of his now diminshing penis and licked the cum from his fingers and hands, relishing in the pungent odor of it and the wonderful taste. "I wonder what other men's cum tastes like," Peter thought to himself as he pulled himself back together. Realizing that it was nearing dark, he started the engine and began moving forward again, hoping to come to some sort of crossroad and head back.

As he sped forward through the brush and through the now quite dark night, he saw, up ahead, a dim light coming from around a set of trees. He slowed as he got nearer, not knowing what to expect out in the middle of nowhere. As he approached the light, he saw it was a small shack of some kind. Peter noted to himself that this was a strange place for someone to live, but as he was quite thirsty from driving down the dirty dusty road, he thought he might stop to ask for a drink.

He pulled up outside the shack and shut the motor off. Pocketing the keys he got out of the jeep and headed over to the shack. He knocked on the door several times, but noone answered. Finally, drawing up his courage, he pushed on the door and peered inside.

He didn't find anything that looked like what he had expected. Rather than crude furniture and dirtiness everywhere, he found himself in a pristine room with spotless terra cotta tiles on the floor. Everything was white, clean, bright, even cheerful. There was a small living room area, a bathroom and a kitchen, but no bedroom.

About the time he was taking all this in, he noticed a stairway, spiral in nature, going down somewhere in the corner of the room. He hollered down the stairs several times but got no answer. His curiosity got the better of him as he began to descend the metal staircase. The same bright lights met him as he descended, until he reached a very large underground room with nothing in it at all except a door to one side of the room and a table in the middle of the room with a red button mounted in its center. He again called out, and was about to head back upstairs when his curiosity got the better of him and he went over to the button on the table.

Next to the button was a neatly printed placard reading "Push the button. I'm somewhere down below and can't hear you." So he pushed the button. Nothing happened for several long intense moments and then, just as he was about to head back upstairs, the door in the wall opened slightly, as if someone were peering at him but didn't want to be seen.

"Hello?" Peter asked tentatively.

"Hello, young man. One moment and I'll be right with you. I wasn't expecting any visitors this evening." said a voice from behind the door.

A moment later, a little old man with a white lab coat appeared from behind the doorway. He adjusted his spectacles and stuck out his hand to Peter. "Dr. Norman Fisher, son. And who might you be?"

"My name is Peter Wells, sir. I apologize for the intrusion, but I am a little lost and saw the light from upstairs. I hope I am not disturbing you, sir." said Peter, extending his hand as well.

The two men shook hands. "What is a fine young specimen of a man like you doing way out here?" asked Dr. Fisher.

"Well, I was taking my jeep for a four-wheel test drive and I seem to have gotten a little lost. What is this place, anyway, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Not at all, my boy, not at all." replied Dr. Fisher. "Come this way, please, and I'll show you what I am up to."

Dr. Fisher led the way through the doorway into what Peter realized was an enormous underground statuary. Dr. Fisher stood aside and let Peter drink in the sights. Peter went from one statue to the next, there must have been thirty of them. All of them were of young men his age. All were remarkably well done, and all of them were both naked and sporting erections. Peter noticed that each of them was well defined muscularly, like himself, and all were, in a word, breathtakingly handsome. Peter found himself becoming highly aroused in spite of himself.

Dr. Fisher watched the young man move from statue to statue, liking the expressions they were garnering from the boy very much. "So what do you think?" he asked Peter.

"I've never seen anything quite like this, sir. Your work is absolutely amazing. How come you don't exhibit these?"

"The world is not ready for my form of art, I'm afraid. The male erect nude is not something you'd readily find in a museum. so I make them to pass the time, I enjoy them, and I've even been known to use them for my own amusement at times."

"Oh? What do you mean?" asked Peter, having a pretty good idea without asking the question.

"Well, a good looking boy like yourself can certainly appreciate that someone like me who lives alone needs to be able to satisfy certain urges, so to speak. I've found, at my age, that this type of man," he said, gesturing to the statues, "rarely wants to copulate with someone like me. As you might have guessed, I am rather enamored by men, in fact, I've dedicated my whole life to extolling the virtures of the male body. I see from your pants that you are interested in them as well, am I right?"

"Well, um, er,..." Peter stammered. "I've never DONE anything with a man before, but I have sure thought about it."

"Well, Peter, there is no time like the present. Why don't you take your clothes off, I'll leave you alone in the room, and you'll be free to do what you want."

"Gee, that's great, but I'm... I'm... I'm not sure about this." Peter replied.

"You have nothing to worry about. I promise I won't interfere, nor will I touch you or even be near your. I'll be watching from another room, if that's okay, so that I can enjoy your experience in here with all my boys, but I promise to let you alone."

With that, Dr. Fisher left the room as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving Peter alone in the room with the statues. Peter wandered around for a few moments, idly fondling his growing crotch as he moved from one handsome specimen to another. It was strange, Peter thought, that many of the statues looked like people he knew. They looked vaguely like people that he had grown up with that had left town for one reason or another. Peter thought to himself that perhaps they had come out into the woods as well and perhaps Dr. Fisher had photographed them or something so he could later mold their likenesses from the smooth marble.

Finally, able to hold in his feelings no longer, Peter sat down at the pedestal of one of the statues and began to disrobe. He had so immersed himself in the exhibition of beautiful male nudity that he completely forgot that he had an audience at all! He quickly took all his clothes off and stood up.

He went to one statue that he kept going back to, the one that looked so like his friend Jimmy that had suddenly left town only weeks earlier. Peter had fantasized about making it with Jimmy for several long years. He suspected that Jimmy was willing, but had not quite gotten the courage up to approach him until it was too late. He had gone to Jimmy's house that afternoon about a month earlier only to find a "For Sale" sign in the front yard.

Peter approached the statue of Jimmy and began running his hands over the smooth marble. His fingertips caressed the smooth stone, following each well developed muscle. He stood on the pedestal with Jimmy (as he now referred to it) and hugged the statue. He wrapped his hands around the incredible erection, it had to be at least nine thick inches. He relished in the difference it felt from his own throbbing eight incher. He traced each vein carefully, as if contemplating something, and then stooped down and put the erection in his mouth. His tongue swirled around the cold marble phallus, hitting every inch and crevice of the massive organ.

Peter continued to suck the statue off as he fondled his own turgid member with his hands. He wasn't aware of it at first, but the cock in his mouth began to get warmer, softer, more realistic.

Dr. Fisher had been watching Peter with utter fascination. He stroked his cock as he sat behind the one way mirror, his other hand poised over a console of numbered buttons. At about the same time that Peter began to notice the statue's warming up to him, Dr. Fisher pressed a button on the console. Slowly, before Dr. Fisher's warped eyes and mind, Jimmy (for it was really he) began to come to life.

Peter continued his oral ministrations of Jimmy's cock. He was lost in the feeling of sucking his first penis, albeit a stone one when he heard someone moan. He took his mouth away and looked around, expecting Dr. Fisher to be standing behind him or something. When he saw noone in the room, he returned to the cock in front of him. He began to suck earnestly as he felt himself nearing an explosive orgasm. Suddenly, someone moaned again, and this time, as Peter looked up, Jimmy took his natural form and grabbed Peter's head, urging him to finish the job.

Peter spit out the now human cock and sputtered. Jimmy smiled down at him and told him to continue. "I've wanted you to do that for so long now, Peter." Jimmy said.

Peter was stunned. Here before him was the real life version of his best friend, turned from cold, smooth marble to warm, supple flesh. He was too caught up in the moment to really allow his mind to accept what was happening, so he mouthed Jimmy's cock again and took it to the root. He found sucking the real thing much more to his liking, and was soon swirling his tongue around the glans of the enormous penis, eliciting moans galore from Jimmy.

Jimmy realized he was close, and pulled out. He got down off the pedestal and laid down on the cold tile floor. He beckoned for Peter to join him. Peter laid down next to him in a sixty-nine position, and the two lads began sucking each other off. Before many moments had passed, they both exploded into each other's mouths, giving each other the relief they so needed. They drank greedily, savoring the flavor of each other's semen.

Peter, laying atop Jimmy now, began to kiss him deeply. He moved his tongue all over Jimmy's smooth, hairless body, kissing, licking and nipping at each part of his body. He swirled his tongue around Jimmy's erect nipples, biting them gently. He moved his head further down and quickly licked Jimmy's cock clean. Continuing down, he ran his tongue down the length of Jimmy's leg until his tongue came to Jimmy's foot. He licked every inch of the smooth, masculine and heavily veined foot before him, taking in each toe, one at a time and giving it a loving bath with his tongue. He swirled his tongue all over Jimmy's foot, and then gave the same treatment to the other foot.

Dr. Fisher was beside himself with wanton lust. None of the boys that had wandered into his "lab" had ever taken to male bonding so quickly. He was dying to see how Peter would react to other stimuli, so he began pressing other buttons before him. As he did, other men and boys in the room came to life, some young like Peter and Jimmy, some older, hairier, more rugged.

The new "men" moved to where Jimmy and Peter were nestled on the floor making love. One man called Jeb, a middleaged burly man with a very hairy chest and a long greying beard came up behind Peter and quickly inserted his long, slim cock into Peter's ass. Before Peter had much time to react, Jeb was plowing in and out of the boy's tender virgin ass with wanton abandon. Peter arched his back and howled with the combination of the pain and pleasure Jeb was bringing him.

Another young boy, who looked about 18, presented a mammoth cock for Peter to suck as he continued to be reamed by Jeb. The boy's name was Mike, and he acted as if this particular blowjob was the best he had ever received, despite the fact that in his other life he had been the recipient of many, many blowjobs.

None of the "statue" people that were taking part in the orgy that was now developing had any realization of where they had been immediately prior to the sex scene. They all acted completely naturally, as if they had not been frozen in stone, some for months, some for even years. All thirty-two men who eventually found themselves wrapped up together on the floor amid sucking and fucking, kissing and licking, jacking and other sexual thrills were so engrossed in the pleasure they were bringing to themselves and others that they just continued to go about their way as if nothing unusual was happening.

Dr. Fisher, up in his observation booth, smiled as he continued to pound his erection, throwing drops of precum all over the already well-stained console. "If only they knew how they spent most of their time," he thought to himself with an evil chuckle. For Dr. Fisher, you see, had entrapped all these boys and men as they got lost in the woods, had turned them to stone, and in doing so had wiped their memories of any life they had had before completely clean. He now used them solely for his entertainment. When he needed stimulating, he would bring one or more of them to life and watch what ensued. This particular orgy had surpassed all his wild dreams, and he realized with happiness that Peter was the catalyst. Wide eyed, innocent, clean-cut Peter had brought out the sexual animals in each of the men as if they could sense his virginity as well as Peter could himself.

Meanwhile, back in the gallery, sperm began flying as one after the other of the men, who ranged in size, shape, color, and appearance like normal groups of people began to exerience their own individual orgasms-- orgasms which spurred on the group's efforts to metabolize their sexual entity among them.

Finally, after all cum had drained from the many balls present, and after the bodies of all the men as well as the floor were slick with cum, the men, except Peter, quietly got up and returned to their pedestals, cum still dripping from their sleek and sweaty bodies. They assumed statuesque poses and began to return to the marble state Peter had found them in.

Peter, meanwhile, was laying in the puddle of cum on the floor, dazed. He didn't notice the men turning into statues as he lay there contemplating the incredible fuck and suck session he had just led his now ravaged body through. He lay there for some time then propped himself up on his elbows, surveying his body and the floor around him. It was then that he realized that he was the lone human in the room, and the concept of what had just happened hit him like a bullet to the brain. He looked around, as if to assure himself that what he was thinking and seeing were true, then began to sob hysterically.

Dr. Fisher watched Peter's reaction with amusement. Tidying himself up a bit, he left the control booth and returned to the main floor. He knelt down and took Peter's head in his arms, soothingly saying, "That's okay, dear boy. It's alright. I'll explain everything in a minute."

Peter looked up at the man, dried his tears from his cheeks and said, "So what I think just happened really did happen, huh?"

"Yes," said Dr. Fisher, who then explained how all the "statues" had come to be that way. "And now, my boy, I would imagine you would like a shower?" he said, looking towards an empty pedestal that Peter had not noticed.

Peter nodded and Dr. Fisher led him to a corner of the room, pressed some buttons on the wall and a shower came up from the floor. Peter showered long and luxuriously, washing the day's activities from his tender, smooth skin. He had not realized the extent of his activities at first, but as the shower wore on, he felt his body tighten up from what he thought was soreness. He looked down at himself and realized, with horror, that he himself was beginning to turn to marble!

He tried to move from the shower, but by this time, it was too late. He couldn't move. He felt himself turn quickly now, and in a matter of moments, he was no longer a boy, but a stone boy.

Dr. Fisher moved the new statue to its resting place on the empty pedestal and gave his new acquisition one last once-over. "What a fine specimen for my collection," he thought as he turned out the light and went upstairs.

By this time, it was morning, the sun shone brightly through the trees. Dr. Fisher stood at the door of the shack watching the awesome beauty of nature waking up when he heared jeep noises off in the distance. He scurried back inside and began preparing for his next visitor...