Still as a Statue

Still as a Statue

--

Layla lounged on the sofa, her legs curled beneath her as the glow of the television danced across her playful freckles. She was lost in the latest reality show drama, a guilty pleasure that turned her living room into a private theatre of absurdities. The night outside was a canvas of burnt orange and auburn hues, autumn whispering sweet nothings to the city.

The calm shattered when the front door swung open with a bang that could wake the dead or at least the half-asleep. Emi stormed in, arms laden with canisters of paint that clanked together like some avant-garde orchestra tuning up for a performance. Her entrance was nothing short of cataclysmic, the embodiment of chaos wrapped in human form.

"Time to pay up, Layla!" Emi's singsong voice sliced through the apartment, sharp enough to cut through the thick tension that suddenly filled the air.

Layla muted the TV, her heart thumping a nervous rhythm against her ribs. She felt a cold sweat slowly blanket her body. "Look, I literally don't have the cash right now," she said, her words tumbling out in a valley-girl lilt, sheepish yet tinged with hope for leniency. "C-could we maybe get a rain check for now? I literally get paid next Friday."

Emi's lips twisted into a smirk that could seduce sin itself. She shook her head, her black hair cascading over her shoulders, the purple tips at the end of her ponytail flickering in the light. "Money? Oh, honey, I'm not talking about greenbacks."

Layla's eyes widened, her pulse quickening as Emi prowled closer, the predatory grace in her step mirroring the sinister glint in her eyes. Something was electrifying in the air, a current that ran between them threatening to ignite, as she drew closer.

"I want you to pay... with your body," Emi spoke, her voice low and velvet, dripping with unspoken promise and peril all at once, as she stood tall looking down at Layla.

Layla swallowed hard, her skin prickling with anticipation. A part of her wanted to run, to hide behind her bashfulness, she knew her roomie well, and she knew that this look on Emi spelled trouble. However, Emi had covered Layla's own share of the rent for the last three months, and she owed her a lot as a result. If she could pay her back for all of that without needing a payment plan, maybe this wouldn't be so bad. I mean Emi was her friend and wouldn't ask her to do anything too bad, right?

-

"Alright, get up and get nekkid."

Layla Vasquez, sat there, eyes wide open at the command coming from her friend. There she was, in the warm embrace of her apartment, being ordered to shed every stitch of clothing by one of her closest friends.

"Why? W-what are you going to make me do?" She sheepishly asked.

"Oh, nothing too horrible!" Emi flashed the devil's smile. She raised the canisters and continued, "Just gonna have ya get naked, paint you bronze, and have you stand out in the park on that old pedestal for about thirty minutes. Ya know the one that used to have a statue up on it till those kids broke it? Figure that way I can get a service equal to the cash I dropped on ya, AND give back to the community."

Layla shuddered and began to feel herself panic. Worse still, she felt a tinge of... something. Something...warm. She could have put up a fight. She could have resisted. She could have said no and that would have been the end of it. Instead, she stood up from the couch, hung her head, and closed the curtains leading into their living room. Emi clapped happily seeing this, and got to work moving furniture and putting down drop cloths.

After the room was prepped, Layla stood before Emi, trembling. She had been lounging in her 'around the house' fit, namely a small grey t-shirt that exposed her midriff, and very short shorts that revealed her thick thighs, and right now this instant she wished she had been wearing more layers. She and Emi had seen each other naked before, in fact probably more than was normal, but that did nothing to ease the embarrassment washing over Layla. She grabbed the hem of her shirt. She couldn't believe she was going to do this.

But oh, she was--each piece of fabric that slipped from her body revealed more of the tanned landscape beneath. It was a show of freckles that played connect-the-dots across her shoulders, trailing down arms that trembled as they dropped the dainty half-shirt to the ground. She reached behind her back for the clasp of her bra that she hadn't removed when she got home as it had been 'too much of a hassle' to mess with at the time. The bra--a cage of lace once holding back the soft swell of her bosom--was now just a memory tossed aside, freeing breasts that bore the gentle defiance of gravity. Her hands then traveled down her curvy waist and towards her shorts, as she bent slightly to remove them.

Layla made the mistake of looking up at Emi, and the eager look of anticipation she wore sent chills down Layla's spine. She felt like a prey animal being watched by a predator. Nonetheless, she persisted, now with a faint tingle in her stomach. Down slid her shorts, gliding gracefully down her thick thighs and onto the floor, revealing her nearly bare womanhood, save for some visible stubble from her not-too-recent shave. Also revealed, as the shorts were driven from the rear, was Layla's plump freckled ass. She could feel it shake a little as she moved the departed shorts off to the side of the room.

"Okay, so this is happening," Layla breathed out, standing bare and expectant, a sculpture-to-be in her natural glory. She could feel her heart drumming a samba against her ribcage, the anticipation painting her cheeks a shade deeper than any bronze pigment could hope to achieve.

"Oh, it definitely is!" Emi said as she began to approach Layla. She was holding the paint in one hand, and a large paintbrush in the other. "Let's get you looking presentable."

-

As the first cold stroke of paint traced her clavicle, she shuddered--not from the chill, but from the anticipation. She knew what was coming, she knew what she had agreed to, but she did not realize how long this would take. Layla also did not consider what the transformation would do to her. Every stroke Emi made on her body, felt like a jolt of cold electricity through Layla. She could feel herself getting hotter as more strokes were made and could feel herself getting wetter by the minute...Wait. Wetter?

"Oh ho, looks like someone's getting a little too excited. Well at least for this early in the night. Let me just," Emi grabbed a small towel she had brought with her, and slowly, placed it between Layla's legs.

More than once, while cleaning up her juices, Emi brushed the cloth against Layla's womanhood. Each time she did it took everything in the girl's power to not jump, squirm or moan. She wanted to bury her face in her hands, but they had already been painted so all she could do was squeeze her eyes shut and grit her teeth. Despite her eyes being shut, she could still picture the cocky smirk on Emi's face as she transitioned from wiping her down to painting her lower half.

--

The whole process took at least two hours, and the sun was now completely set, but Layla had been fully painted bronze. She marveled at her arms and legs, and how well she looked in the paint. For a moment she forgot her embarrassment and just took in the sensation.

"Hey, this doesn't look, like, half bad!" She turned to Emi, with a smile on her face. One that fell the second she noticed Emi's hand on the curtain that covered their apartment's large glass window. "H-hey stop you didn't say anything about-"

"Whoops!" with that, Emi pulled back the curtain exposing Layla to anyone happening to be looking out their window and into theirs. This would be especially easy to do, as both girls lived on the first floor of their complex, and the window led out into a very small 'garden' with nothing but grass, some rocks, and a 'fence' that didn't even come up to Layla's knees.

She wanted to drop to the ground but was overly conscious of the fact that the paint on her body had not fully dried yet, and she did not want to risk having it reapplied after all the work it took. Instead, she stood stock still, staring at her reflection in the window, faint as it may be. She really did look like a statue. Despite her horror at her sudden exposure to the world, she could not stop herself from striking a few statuesque poses.

It's just so I can get the feel for this!

She convinced herself as she took in the bronze statue staring back at her. Emi watched on, with a smirk on her face.

Due to their joint admiration of Layla's bronze form, both girls were startled when a car drove past their window and loudly honked its horn excitedly. Layla was quick to close the curtains, as Layla rushed behind the nearest bit of furniture to poorly preserve her modesty. With the view cut off, the room mates shared a sigh of relief, followed by some light giggling. For a moment, Layla forgot the journey she was about to embark on.

-

Once the paint was dry and Layla could move freely, Emi led her towards the door. Layla had been wondering what the logistics of getting to the park were since the task had been assigned but figured since Emi had come in clearly prepared for everything, she must have had something in mind. Instead of handing the bronze girl anything to conceal herself with, however, Emi instead flung the door of the apartment open.

Layla, instinctively, threw her hands over her chest, and crotch respectively. "What the hell! Aren't you gonna give me something to cover with before we head out!?" She hissed at her friend, who stood there looking unbothered. Well, rather than unbothered, she actually looked a bit puzzled.

"No, why would I?"

"C-cuz we are going to the park..and y'know," Layla leaned in and whispered, " I am naked."

Emi smirked at this, "Oh yeah, but no one can tell from a distance. And besides the park is just right outside. If you are quick no one will even have a chance to see you!"

There was a look of horror painted on Layla's face as she stared at her friend. She should have expected this. She should have expected to have to streak to the park. Emi was right, it wasn't far, and she could make it there in three minutes if she ran. But she hadn't mentally prepared herself for that. Nor had she prepared herself for the soft but firm slap on the ass that sent her hopping out the doorway. Before she had time to react, the door was slammed shut. There was a metallic sound of the door being locked following it.

Unlike before, Layla did not freeze. Instead, she immediately took off sprinting down the hall of her apartment, aiming for the side entrance that she knew was rarely used. It let right outside the building and onto the sidewalk that led to the park. Her breasts were bouncing something fierce as she ran through the hallway, so much so that she had to hold them back with her arm to keep them from distracting her any further.

She heard a door opening behind her and nearly tripped over herself as she turned around to see if she had been caught, but to her dismay and comfort all she saw was Emi. Sure it was Emi, holding her phone out and recording Layla's embarrassing dash, but at least it wasn't a stranger. This thought gave her the comfort she needed to keep going, and before she knew it she was standing outside in the chilly autumn air.

-

The trip to the park had been quick and uneventful. This part of the city was always quiet on nights like this, something Layla was super appreciative of right now. She had spotted Emi following behind her a few times on the way here, but by the time she made it to the pedestal she was meant to mount, Emi was gone.

God, it's cold,

thought Layla as she shivered violently upon the soles of her bare feet making contact with the chilled stone of the platform, after awkwardly pulling herself up and onto it. This was gonna be so much harder than she anticipated, though to her surprise the paint was doing a much better job insulating her from the cold than she expected. Made it all the worse for her that Emi had decided to skip the very bottoms of her feet.

Just think warm thoughts.

There wasn't a whole lot of time to think about the cold, however, as Layla could hear the sounds of people approaching. In her naked state, she scrambled to get into a good position. She had no idea what counted as a "statue-like" pose, so she just threw her hands behind her head and angled her head so she wasn't fully looking at the path in front of her, but rather at the bench and street light on her right.

On the wind, she heard the voice of Emi whisper "Ooh, how bold of you. Let it all show girl!" Despite quickly glancing around, she could see no sign of her friend in her vicinity.

Round the corner, the source of the noise revealed itself. A pair of joggers, middle-aged men, burst onto the trail. Both men looked out of breath, and like they were nearing the end of their workout. One on the left, a man with a shaved head pointed out the bench while swatting the other jogger, a man with long blond hair, on the shoulder. The two nearly out-of-breath men sat down and gathered their strength.

Please don't notice me, please don't notice me, please don't notice!

Layla silently pleaded with any and all forces in the universe for these two men to not perceive her. Unfortunately for the bronzed Latina, her pleas were not heard.

"Hey man, was that statue here the other night?" The bald one asked, now pointing.

Fuck!

Layla had to fight the urge to tense up. To throw her hands over her body. To get down and run. But she knew if she did, the exposure would be so much worse. Despite the situation she was in, she could feel that same warm tingle returning.

"Naw, not that I recall. Granted it's been a few days." The blond replied.

"Kinda explicit for these parts don't ya think?"

"For my tastes? Sure. But ya gotta think Kev, this is the modern age."

The bald man turned to look at his friend, stupified by his response. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Well, ya gotta look at it like this. Ya see when we were coming up old ladies would point at art like that," He motioned at Layla's nude form as she tried desperately to hold her pose, her arms now starting to get tired, "and called it pornography. Y'see younger people these days, or even folks in our own demographic really pushed past that stuffiness and more open and accepting of art in all its forms."

The bald man, once again just stared at his friend. "Bro I can see the clit on that statue I just think it's a bit much in a public place!" Without turning to look at her, he pointed perfectly at Layla's crotch.

Internally she was screaming, externally she was doing everything in her power to not visibly cringe. She prayed that she wasn't getting as moist down there as the warmth she was feeling suggested.

"No no, I hear ya man. I really do, and yeah I definitely think the big ole tits and detailed pussy are a tad much. But I also recognize that what is crude and lewd to you and I, could easily just be seen as an innocent and valid work of art by another."

"Are you high?"

"Oh yeah absolutely. C'mon, let's get going before the statue starts moving more than it looks like it is now."

With that both men got up and continued their exercise, but not before both got another eyeful of Layla's bare body. As soon as they were out of sight, she collapsed into a squat where she once stood, burying her face in her hands. She didn't think this task would be this embarrassing. Hearing those men talk about her body, while she stood right there, was so humiliating she was afraid she might cry. And the worst part? Well, the worst part was she was incredibly turned on right now. She wanted nothing more than to masturbate, right here and right now. She reached both of her hands down between her legs and was mere seconds from going to town on herself. She would be doing so right now, if only it weren't for the sounds of more approaching people. Instead, she desperately popped back up into a standing position and tried to emulate a more, respectable pose. She did her best impression of the

Birth of Venus

she could muster and went still.

In mere moments, a young couple about Layla's age also rounded the corner. They had their arms locked around each other, and based on the looks they were giving each other, it seemed like they were on a date. They parked on the bench and began to embrace. It seems like the date was going really well. The pair were whispering sweet nothings to each other, that Layla could barely hear, interspersed with much louder giggles coming from the young woman.

After several minutes of quiet conspiring between the two, the young man leaned in a bit more towards the woman and said something to her that had her eyes go wide. Before she could respond, he began to nibble on her ear lobe. From on the pedestal, Layla could hear the young woman moan. She could also see the young man's hand as it dove into the woman's pants. The woman's hand mirrored the actions of her male counterpart, and before long both of them were moaning quietly in the park. With his free hand, the boyfriend lifted the woman's shirt, revealing that she had gone without a bra. Her ample breasts bounced forth, freed from the confines of her blouse.

Layla watched as the woman's nipples hardened upon their exposure to the autumn night. She also watched, with wide-eyed interest, as the man began roughly kneading his date's breast with his free hand. The woman's moans began to increase in intensity and volume at this. The increased noise seemed to be the trigger the man was waiting for, and lunged forward, kissing the woman down the length of her neck and down toward her bosom.

Oh god, this is hot.

Layla had to shake herself a little as that thought escaped free into her mind. Their hormones were clearly getting to her, as she felt her finger dancing around near her slit. She couldn't afford the luxury of squirming, yet the urge to touch, to mimic the couple's exploration, bubbled up within her relentlessly as the tide. She was battling her baser instincts, to maintain her disguised identity and the slightest bit of dignity.

"Damn it," Layla cursed under her breath, a bead of perspiration tracing a treacherous path down her temple--a temple supposedly fashioned from cold, unfeeling bronze. Her hand, currently the only shield her bare womanhood had to the night sky, sought solace between her thigh further than needed to protect her modesty, her fingers grazing the heat there with an artist's precision. After a few moments of light grazing, turned medium petting, turned full-on finger insertion, Layla let out an involuntary moan. This did not go unnoticed.

"What was that...?" The girl's voice, tinged with panic and curiosity, pierced the balmy night.

"Sounded like a woman..." The guy trailed off, his tone a cocktail of amusement and disbelief. He nudged his date when he finally noticed the 'statue' standing nearby.

The couple rose while adjusting their clothes, their earlier activities forgotten, replaced by the intrigue of a statue seemingly coming to life before their very eyes. Layla's heart thundered against her ribcage, her attempts at stillness as futile as asking the wind not to blow.

Be like a statue, be like a statue,

she willed herself, but her body betrayed her, as the juices from her pussy began to leak down her leg. This too did not go unnoticed, though through her shut eyes she could not see the combined looks of lust and curiosity that were currently painted on the faces of the young couple. Something she had also failed to notice, is that her pose had significantly shifted. While from a distance it would still look like one a statue would be made in, up close every inch of her privacy was on full display. Her arms no longer covered her large breasts, and her hand no longer blocked the sight of her (now puffy) vagina.