D&D Petrification Story

Varis, the crow lord, mouth of the abyss, god of the north and keeper of the last winter, lay awake in his bed, unable to sleep. Only a keen observer would have noticed he wasn’t asleep. He lay still as a corpse, only his rising and falling chest and the occasional blink of luminescent eyes showed he still lived, however little that word applied to an immortal like him. His piercing eyes were staring straight up into the gloom that obscured the ceiling. They gleamed in the dark with a sharp, silver light. His long black hair was messy and splayed out all round his head, which was abnormally long and thin, with high, defined cheekbones and a thin, pointed nose that project over a small mouth. The furs used for sheets on the bed came up only as far as his waist. His hairless face and torso, and high, pointed ears betrayed his fey heritage.

	  There was only one other source of light in the room aside from his eyes, which would not have needed the illumination anyway. Its source was from the other occupant of the bed, his wife Eos. The two could not have looked more different. Whereas his naked torso was thin and chiselled, her bare back was all soft curves, with only the barest hint of her shoulder blades. And while his hair was stubbornly messy, hers was straight and smooth. Her silvery blonde tresses flowed to her right across the pillow like a stream, then fell down the side of the bed in a shimmering cascade and pooled on the floor. Varis turned his head to the left to look at her. She was resting her right cheek on a pillow, so that he could see her sleeping, apparently untroubled, face. Her nose was small and turned up slightly, with a curve to it. Her mouth was open slightly, breathing gently and the tips of long, thin ears protruded through her hair. Her whole body was suffused with a soft, glowing light that hung around her like pale, woven gold. Her eyelids fluttered occasionally but she otherwise lay very still and Varis watched her with a faint smile on his face. But doing so still brought him no closer restfulness. He decided to get up and take a walk.

	Not wanting to disturb his wife’s rest, he reached out and softly caressed her spine with the back of his fingers. As he did so, a wave of glimmering white flowed from his fingers out over her skin in all directions, under the furs across her long legs, down her shapely arms to the tips of her fingers, and up the curve of her neck and over her angelic face. Within moments her whole body was perfectly white marble and sank just a little deeper into the bed. Her face was frozen in an expression of serenity. Varis stroked the curve of her stone cheek. Being a statue, he had been told, was a little like dreaming, so hopefully her pleasant dreams would be uninterrupted until he returned, and he knew she would not object. She enjoyed being petrified as much as he enjoyed petrifying her.

 He threw back the furs covering his legs and stood up, stretched his arms above his head, then pulled a black and silver robe over his naked body. He didn’t bother to tie it, letting it hang open at the front. He’d long ago left behind mortal conceptions of shame but it wouldn’t do for anyone to see a divinity of his status completely disrobed. Mortals had such funny obsessions over clothes. He walked out of the room, quietly shutting the door behind him and strode with long, methodical strides down the corridors, going nowhere in particular.

	His first thought after roaming the corridors for a few minutes was to get some fresh air and though he could always go back to the private balcony in his quarters, he decided on a whim to instead go down to the lower battlements. When he arrived and stepped out into the winter air, there was a gentle flurry of snow falling from the night sky, leaving soft piles in the corners where the wind had blown it. Stretching out for hundreds of feet straight ahead of him was something like a tunnel, enclosed on one side by a stone wall and at either end with solid wooden doors. On his right were the parapets, a waist high barrier of rough cut stone, with flat platforms of rock cut into it at equal distances, upon which perched crouching draconic gargoyles. From a distance it was difficult to tell the fortress apart from the peaks around it, since it was carved out of the inside of the mountain, cutting deep into its heart. Only the occasionally balcony or battlement like this gave away the vast complex housed inside. Unperturbed by the cold, Varis walked down the length of the battlements, snow crunching beneath his bare feet. As he walked, a few of the gargoyles turned their stone faces to watch their master’s progress, before returning to their silent vigil. In the shelter of the gargoyles’ wings or in the shadow of the parapet rested several ravens. They were Varis’ eyes and ears in the wider world when he so desired and normally swarmed about the peak but now they were asleep in their mountain roosts, though one was disturbed by the movement of the gargoyle it was nesting under and took the wing, instinctively flocking towards its master. Varis stroked its black feathers thoughtfully as he walked, before gently setting the tired animal back in its perch, now that the stone sentinel was motionless again.

	Near the door at the other end of the battlements was another statue, not animated like the gargoyles and not reptilian in shape but a woman, made of the same white marble as Eos now was. She was leaning against the parapets, staring off into the distance with her blank white eyes. Her stone hair was tied back into a long pony tail permanently frozen in mid-flutter. She was naked, save for the silver torc about her throat, and snow was starting to accumulate atop her head and ample bosom. Varis looked her over from every available angle and tried to recall when he had petrified her and why. Her name was Lethe and she was one of his concubines, a human. He couldn’t remember precisely when he had turned her to stone but it must have been at least as far back as last summer. Why else would she look so comfortable? Unlike him, she could not ignore the winter’s bite.

	As he mused on this, he recalled at last the moment when he had found her like this. He saw Lethe as she had been, her chestnut hair gleaming deep scarlet in the sunset. The glinting silver torc around her throat, a gift from him to mark her first anniversary here, stood out prominently in the sunlight against her naked tanned skin. He could just see the lower curves of her breasts under her arms as she rested on the stone barrier. She hadn’t noticed him approaching and the sight of her against the setting sun was so visually pleasing he’d quietly turned her to stone to keep it preserved, if only for a short time by the reckoning of immortals. He liked to find excuses to petrify his women, at least temporarily. Even after being changed back, the magic would imbue them for several years with a measure of agelessness, so that even his mortal concubines remained with him. For their part, the women grew accustomed to it or even appreciated it once they learned that age no longer affected them as a result. After all, a few weeks or months of petrified senselessness were a worthy trade for everlasting life and youth. A few even seemed to enjoy it, just as his wife did. They relished the thought of what he might do to them while they were unaware and he sometimes indulged their fantasies.

	That thought brought a surge of warmth to Varis’ groin and he toyed for a moment with the idea of restoring of her to life right now, to feel the heat of her body in his arms. But after a few moments of consideration he decided against it. He might be untouched by the cold but it would cruel of him if she were to close her eyes on a warm summer’s evening and open them in the midst of a howling winter night without a stitch of clothes. Perhaps he should wait until the mountains turned warmer next summer, perhaps on an evening not dissimilar to the one he had petrified her on. He smirked at the thought that she might awaken and not notice the passage of time she’d missed. Then another idea struck him. Leaning down on the parapets so that his face was level with hers, he brought one of his hands between her stone legs. A faint silvery glow radiated from his fingers and at his touch her marble sex became soft and malleable again, though still stone. Her lower lips parted at his touch. After a few minutes, he withdrew his hand and all her parts were stone once again, though the silvery glow persisted, illuminating the lower curves of her buttocks. There was, of course, no change to her stone face. Varis smiled again. When he did change her back, she would certainly notice one change. He stroked her marble cheek and move on, heading back inside the castle.

	He passed through room after room, corridor after corridor, still not going anywhere in particular or knowing what he was looking for, though Lethe had definitely put him in a better mood. The halls were almost devoid of life. A few ghosts wandered about, and there were many more statues in the halls but the flesh and blood inhabitants of the castle seemed to all be asleep. Thinking perhaps some light reading might settle his mind, Varis found the main stairs, built into an enormous central shaft running straight through the center of the mountain, and started heading down. The library was built into the lowest depths of the castle, near the mountain’s heart, so that when he needed to expand it to accommodate more books or scrolls or artifacts, he could always dig deeper. He arrived after many minutes at the bottom of the stairs and stood before the great oak double-doors of the library, carved with numerous figures from old tales and sagas, some of which he himself had been involved in. He walked into the library, the doors swinging open on their own in the presence of their master.

	Spread out before him was a colossal chamber that stretched almost a quarter of a mile into the distance, filled with countless wooden shelves that stretched thirty feet to the ceiling, with numerous wooden platforms and tight spiral stairs leading up to the higher shelves. In several places around the room, open areas marked by wooden barriers revealed great pits, showing places where the library continued downward towards more chambers with just as many books as here. It was a collection gathered over millennia and he had read most of the books here already. In fact, many of the lower levels were for storing books he’d already read or materials only useful for occasional reference. His favourites were up here on the top floor, nearest his personal study where he and Eos had wiled away many evenings in the past. There were a few more ghosts in here as well, old friends not quite ready to say goodbye or old enemies too dangerous to let go, drifting among the shelves, perusing the material, especially histories written since their deaths. The dead were, understandably, keenly interested in how they were remembered.

	Across the top floor, near the door leading into his study was another petrified concubine. She was an elf, almost as tall as he was, with a willowy figure and very long hair braided into an elaborate four strand braid that fell almost past her waist. Her name was Atene and like Lethe she was naked, though she wore much more jewellery, including an elaborate silver torc crafted into the shape of two raven heads, as well rings on her upper arms and ears. Her breasts were modest in size, which was good because otherwise she would not have been able to hold some of the larger books in her arms. Her arms were bents at the elbows and tucked in close to her chest to create a kind of platform upon which rested a stack of six books that almost reached up to her chin. She was the longest running of all his petrified paramours, not as a result of any punishment but just because she was so handy he kept putting off restoring her. He’d petrified her nine (or was it nineteen?) years ago after handing her a stack of new books he wanted to read before shelving them away, intending to change her back when he got through the stack. Instead, he’d just kept adding more books as quickly as he read them and had grown used to her presence. He made a mental note to swap her out with someone else tomorrow.

	He started reading the titles in her arms, trying to pick out something to pass the time, when he stopped and kept very still. Was someone in his study? He cocked his pointed ear in the direction of the door and listened intently. He could definitely hear the sounds of someone moving furtively, as well as an odd wet sound he couldn’t place. His first thought was thieves but quickly dismissed that theory. There were only a few thieves in the world skilled enough to have a chance of sneaking past the magical defences protecting this place and he was friends with most of them. Besides, there was nothing worth stealing in the study.  The ghosts would not make such noise and the gargoyles would not leave their posts unless the fortress was under attack, which left only a family member. He tried to mentally calculate who was currently mobile among his concubines. Sometimes he thought it was a mistake to have accepted that first slave girl, nearly six hundred years ago now, from that king. But Eos had assured him it would seem rude to refuse and she was rather pretty (and still was; she was currently decorating the front hall), so he’d taken her in. Now he had a reputation for it amongst the mortal nations and they kept trying to give him concubines as offerings, to the point where he had to decline all but the most talented or beautiful. Even that was almost too much to keep track of and after a few minutes he gave up and decided to just see who it was. He walked away from Atene into the study, the doors swinging smoothly and silently inward on their own.

	It was a modestly sized chamber, but it felt larger than it was due to the sparseness of its furnishings. There were a few shelves cut directly into the walls but they had little on them besides stacks of parchment and writing utensils. Along the walls hung several portraits in handsome oak frames of old friends, some of whom still wandered these halls as ghosts, while others had found their own way to immortality. The heart of the room was taken up by a magnificent black wooden desk, supported by four feet carved in the likeness of snarling dragons. The top of the desk was largely bare, save for a large quill pen and inkpot and behind it was a rather plain wooden chair.

	In front of the desk was the source of the noise he’d heard, two young looking women wrapped in each other’s arms, who had evidently just broken off a kiss. The one on the left was Maeve, a human girl from one of the northern tribes given to him by some king who was probably long dead in exchange for an early end to winter one year. The fool couldn’t have possibly known her true worth. Her hair was the color of rich honey, which contrasted strongly with her fair skin and brilliant green eyes. She was dressed in a short chiton of sky blue samite that hung from one shoulder and left most of her legs bare. At her throat and on both her arms were bands of gleaming gold.  The other girl, Raisa, was a sable beauty with loose dark hair that fell in elegant ringlets over her shoulder. Her sparkling hazel eyes and full lips glimmered in the dim light of the study. She’d been a harem girl in some khan’s seraglio, one of hundreds of women he kept for the prestige of it. Varis had claimed her after the Khan offered whatever he wanted as a present and the Khan had been only too happy to give her away; he probably hadn’t ever known her name. Varis at least tried to get to know everyone who came to live in his home. She wore a tall, black choker studded with numerous small diamonds and a dark black sari embroidered with silver thread.

	The doors of the study finished opening and softly struck the stone walls, though in the deathly silence of the library at this hour, they might as well as smashed into the rock for how loud the noise seemed. The women both turned their heads towards the doors and stared at Varis, who stood framed between the open doors. For several moments, no one said anything. Varis’ face was inscrutable, though he was embarrassed at having intruded on such an intimate scene. His mind ran through a number of possible ways of extricating himself, both mundane and magical. The two women remained frozen in place, hands clasped, breasts a finger’s width apart from each other. Their faces however, already somewhat flushed, turned bright scarlet, especially obvious against Maeve’s pale skin. Their eyes darted up and down Varis’ body, from his face, down his bare torso to his manhood. Finally, Varis reached a decision and brought a hand up to chest level, which seemed to shake the two of them from their trance. Raisa spoke up:

	“Oh, master! We w…” but the words fell silent on her lips as Varis waved his hand over them and there was a sudden flash of white light from his palm, a brief sound like an avalanche and in an instant both were white stone, their pretty faces frozen in expressions of surprise mixed with elation. Even as blank white orbs, Varis could still almost see the arousal in their eyes and on their cheeks. Varis shook his head in amusement. He should have guessed it long ago. Not only were the two his concubines, but they were also his students. All of his concubines pursued their own interests, hobbies or studies. Lethe was an aspiring artist, who’d even painted one of the paintings in this room. Atene both studied and wrote historical treatises, many of which had become standard reading around the world. It was likely that, within the mortal world, there was no greater collection of talent than here; many women who would otherwise had never been allowed to be anything other than a political pawn, breeding stock or harlot for a few brief decades could instead spend centuries pursuing their interests. But these two were the only ones with an aptitude for magic and among the few receiving direct instruction from Varis. They were only just starting their apprenticeships, with only ten or so years of study (interrupted, of course, by periods of petrification to rejuvenate them) but they were passionate about their studies. And, it seemed, just as passionate about each other.

	Varis could see it in his mind’s eye. The two of them, late in the evening, alone the library like they often were. Both of them trying to concentrate on their studies, but their eyes keep stealing glances over the tops of their books at each other. Then their eyes glance at once, staring deep into each other. They both look away, their faces flush, but then they look again. He guessed it was Raisa who made the first move, she was always more confident in herself than Maeve. Was tonight the first time or had they had been secretly stealing away for years now into his study, out of sight of any of the ghosts? He could see Raisa, not daring to speak, incline her head towards their master’s study and Maeve, blushing demurely, nod and rise from her seat. The two fly across the room, side by side and hand in hand, passing through the doors, not even waiting for them close before their mouths find each other, their hands groping under each other’s clothes…

	Varis was shaken from his imagination by a surge of arousal that rippled through his cock, making its length swell and rise. Almost unconsciously, one of his hands took hold of his shaft and began to stroke, feeling it pulse between his fingers as it grew nearly as hard as the stone statue in front of him. He made up his mind and walked decisively forward, the doors swinging shut behind so that only the room’s enchanted candles illuminated it, casting strange shadows on the walls. He walked around behind Raisa and began to carefully unwind the black cloth from around her shoulders, then around her waist so that it pooled all round her marble toes. As he did so, his erect length began to glow with the same silver light he had left behind on Lethe’s stony sex, starting from within his testicles and spreading up the shaft to the tip.

The light reflected off Raisa’s smoothly polished skin as he removed the last of the sari from her and let it fall, revealing her shapely legs and pillowy ass. Varis leaned in close so that his bare chest was nearly flush against her cool marble back and wrapped his arms around her, running his hands over Raisa’s unyielding stomach and up around the stone globes of her breasts, still lifted up as they had been when they were tightly wrapped by her clothes. The backs of his hands brushed against Maeve’s breasts; he could feel the rigid tips of her nipples through the fabric of her silk tunic. Another surge of arousal drove through his loins and sent a spasm up his cock. He straightened up, placed his hands on Raisa’s hips and positioned his shaft between her legs. Its shining tip pressed against her lower lips, which magically parted as if they were flesh and he thrust to the hilt inside of her. Even rendered malleable by magic, her marble passage griped him tightly. It was cold and smooth, as only magically created stone could be, and felt fantastic against his warm member. He thrust in and out at a languid pace, her stony flesh sending a tingling sensation traveling from the crown of his penis up into his core. His body tensed as a bolt of pleasure wracked him and he thrust fully inside of her, his hips pressing against her smooth stone bottom.

Despite his climax, his erect manhood was clearly not satisfied, something Varis was actually grateful for as he raised himself off of Raisa’s back to stare at Maeve’s stone face. He placed a kiss as best he could on Raisa’s turned cheek, then walked around to stand behind Maeve, a look of excitement on his normally stoic face. In a single motion he pulled the brooch pin keeping her clothes on and sent her chiton fall to the floor. He wasted no time but planted his hands on her pert butt and thrust into her; if anything, she was even tighter, squeezing his cock like a stone glove. Even as he penetrated her he leaned down to fully explore her petrified body with his hands and mouth. His fingers struggled to wrap themselves fully around the marble orbs of her ample breasts; his mouth kissed her neck and her ear. At last, he wrapped his arms round her stomach, gave one final thrust and planted himself deep inside her, before his seed poured out into her depths. Slightly out of breath but feeling quite contented, he pulled his softening cock from her and walked back to the doors. Standing about where he had been before, he waved his hand again and the air shimmered as it were suddenly underwater. Soundlessly, the two became flesh again.

“…were just aaahhahha!” continued Raisa exactly where she’d been before being petrified, only to be cut off once again, this time as the full intensity of Varis’ ministrations hit them all at once. The both slid to their knees, leaning against each other for support as their mouths opened in rapturous moans of pure bliss. Even after the final climax passed, the two were still gasping for breath, beads of moisture glistening like stars on their skin and in the corners of their eyes, which turned to look at him again with blissful, arouses stares. They clearly hadn’t yet figured out what he’d done, but they knew he had done something to them that they very much enjoyed. He gave them another smile and simply said “Don’t let me interrupt.” They stared at him for a moment, then turned back to look at each other as Varis took a step back and motioned for the doors to close. The last he saw of them before the doors swung shut again was Maeve seizing the back of Raisa’s head and locking her lips into a passionate kiss.

With blissful contentment filling every limb, Varis began the long walk back to his chambers. As he did, he absent-mindedly unpetrified a few of his concubines as he went. Though used to being petrified without warning, they were somewhat surprised to have been reanimated so late at night, and even more so when he kissed them deeply before moving on without a word. Though he did not rush, he seemed to fly across the floor and up the stairs until in no time at all he was at his own door and pushing it open. Even the weather seemed to be in a better mood, the snow had stilled, the clouds parted and a gentle shaft of moonlight illuminated Eos. Varis hadn’t realized it then, but in his eagerness to leave, when he’d thrown the sleeping furs off himself, he’d uncovered his wife as well. Her full length was displayed before him, her white stone skin made pearlescent in the silvery moonlight. He stood as motionless as her, drinking in the sight of her curled toes, the slight bend to both of her knees, the gentle curves of her ass. The sight once again brought a surge of desire to his loins but it was different this time, not the raw, simple lust that Maeve and Raisa had inspired in him. Eos was his wife and he wanted to be with her, not simply have her.

He walked down to the front of the bed, crawled up on it and lay his check on one of hers, running his hands on the smooth contours of her thighs. Slowly he began to feel her flesh soften as he patiently worked the arcane energy into her. Rather than a spreading wave of magic transmuting her flesh in an instant, her legs were gradually changing from white stone to white flesh. He raised his head up off her, pausing only to plant a kiss on her marble rump, then worked his way up, planting kisses all the way up her back, while his hands massaged life back into her arms. Eos had told him once that this was her favourite way of being restored and he could see it was having the same effect now. Her lower body was almost completely restored, and her natural divine glow had returned, revealing a glistening wetness between her legs.

He came at last to her face, still frozen in dreaming serenity. He turned his body on its side to look directly into her closed eyes, and planted a kiss upon each one, then another upon her brow. Her head was growing warmer, her hair less resistant to his fingers. Her mouth parted slightly and from between her white lips came an almost imperceptible sigh of pure bliss. Utterly enraptured, Varis brought his mouth to hers and felt at last her hard lips soften, part, and his tongue met hers.

She was moving now, he felt her hand behind his head and her long, sensuous legs were wrapping around his. Her eyes fluttered open and now he was not kissing a sleeping statue. He could feel his throbbing manhood pressed between their bodies. Their mouths parted and she stared into his eyes while brushing strands of black hair away from his face. “My, you’re in a good mood tonight” she said with a faint giggle. “And so am I. Let’s see if we can’t make it better.” Varis still wasn’t going to get any sleep but now that didn’t seem very important.