Derrick can only stand there and take it, staring down at what he's become. His perfectly formed large penis that is the cause of half of his agony. His perfectly-shaped manly hands. His perfectly-carved large feet, still with the toenails visible and in perfect shape. Feet that will never move, carrying him out of this spot. Hands that will never move and be put to good use.
He continues to will his left hand to squeeze his cock, but it's useless. His face is calm. Forever, calm. Betraying his inner turmoil. He can't see his own face. He never will, unless Medusa decides to bring a mirror over and hold it for his to see. The truth of the matter is, he looks nothing like he used to. He has a cute face, in a puppy-dog kinda way. His head has a nice round shape to it. The top of his head clean-shaven. His nose is rather large, but it suits his facial appearance perfectly. His face has a very young, boyish Italian look to it. Attached to the body of a perfectly-formed adult man in his prime. His body would be smooth, warm, and soft, yet rock-hard if he weren't actually a rock. Now he's just smooth, cold, and literally rock-hard. He would be a chick-magnet, for those who desire the "really nice guy" type. And he would produce beautiful, strong, healthy children.
But Derrick is now a statue, and will never be able to put his new, highly positive features, to good use. The only thing he can do, is just stand there, looking down at the exact same spot. Utterly frozen in place forever. He can't even look up at the sky. Or the beautiful landscape. He's just forever staring downward, his gaze fixed to one exact spot: the front of his pretty statue body, his left hand slightly reaching out towards his cock, his stiff, hard cock standing at attention right on the verge of copulation, but is now utterly useless, and his perfect feet attached to what he can only see of the lower parts of his shins. He can also only see the grass between and immediately around his feet and into his immovable periferal vision.
What he cannot see. What he can never see, are his pleasing youthful facial appearance, his perfectly-shaped large calves and biceps, his beefy-looking, hairless chest, and his perfectly-shaped round bubble butt. He can also never look at the sky, or the stars. He can never faze upon a tree, or flowers. Well, except for these weedy dandilions that would ever so painfully slowly grow within his visual range in the grass near his feet, year after year with each new spring.
He will soon discover that he can also never sleep. That he will be stuck being completely conscious, 24/7. Furthermore, Medusa would periodically visit him. Tease him. She would spy on the goings-on of his former family, and report back to him as they move on with their lives, leaving him forgotten and abandoned. Afterall,he's now just a statue, and always was. Statues don't need companionship, nor to do anything but stand there and look pretty.
In Derrick's mind, he was still a 12 year old boy that misses his parents. Even his siblings! An innocent 12 year old boy, trapped as a statue of a young man twice his age, and probably more than twice his size.
Medusa would tell his how they went to the beach for vacation. His siblings going off to college, graduating, and getting good jobs. Starting their own families. Moving into nice houses, and their kids growing. All of their vacations and adventures he would be forced to miss out on. His parents getting older, and dying of old age. He wouldn't be able to go to their funerals.
All of this, who he never gets to grow out of his 12 year old mind. He's still just a kid inside. He does t get to mature. Doesn't get to experience the last half of his childhood. Bro a teenager, going to school, to the beach, and having his own kids. His entire world is stuck staring at the lower half of his 24 year old smooth man's body, and the grass all about his feet. The only experience he gets, is his agonizingly overwhelming need to cum. To just get those little pebbles out of the tip of his dick.