He bragged in my ear that whole night about his dubious and not to mention illegal bio re-engineering kit. He was vague about how he acquired it, and under the influence of that compliance drug, I wasn't in a position to ask questions. I was sure the sleazy bastard snagged it through the most shady channels possible.
The manual of the kit, advertised in explicit detail, the ability to change the most unfortunate of female bodies into the bimbo ideal. I had seen the degree of success that he had had using this kit on Sam, who in the last few hours I had come to think of as bimbo prime.
She was cool as hell, well her body was fucking hot, I mean, she made -my- theoretically heterosexual pussy wet just being around her. Her bubblegum pink lips, and exaggerated curves, she defied both gravity and decency in the same amounts. As far as I knew, before she was injected with materials from the kit, Sam was fairly far along the bimbo curve to begin with. She volunteered for the physical transformation of her own free will, because she loved the adoration of men in general. She commanded the attention of the boys in the bar, which made my own ability to disappear magnify, but her Master was looking to kidnap me, specifically. With all eyes on Sam, and the collective blood in the room filling the majority of cocks in the room, that was easy for him to do.
I can only assume that Sam knew nothing about the mental reconditioning aspects of the treatment, or the information was conveniently omitted from the conversation, because I couldn't imagine a woman that would abdicate rationality for a bubbly personality and big tits.
I was tall, skinny, and bitchy to a fault. I know that my lanky body wasn't anywhere near what people thought of as attractive, my nose way too long and my hips too narrow. I had almost no muscle definition and my size 10 shoes lent themselves to a more orthopedic look rather than high fashion. Worse yet, my tits, or lack thereof were the real scandal of my body. It was not like they didn't get the notice that puberty had come, my long thick rubbery nipples gave testimony to that, and that alone. My chest flesh was skin and bone, and I was forced to wear bras just to camouflage the monstrous spectacle of my horribly sensitive nipples.
The one time I let myself get felt up, and the first time I wore a padded bra, the boy in question freaked out over how long they got when they hardened. And if I ever hear the word dicktits again, I swear their will be a murder.
I had pretty much resigned myself to being a recluse, the only perk was a substantial trust fund that made everything else in my life very comfortable. My brother, just two years younger, we had our squabbles and fights like any other sibs. He and I kept separate lives for the most part. I guess I didn't know him, because my sainted little brother sold me out and delivered me to master, they took me right off the street drugging me, beginning my bimbo evolution.
I think I can, at least for now, enjoy free thoughts. I can feel my free will slipping, especially in the presence of my new Master. At first that compliance drug kept me passive, until they strapped me down for the many hypodermic needles full of God knows what. They stopped giving me that drug, and at first I fought- for about a week. One morning, I just accepted what was happening to me. They didn't have even have to restrain me, except for the pain of the injections made me thrash.
Through this long month of treatment, my of body raced back and forth from being numb to insanely over sensitive, with raging fevers and bone chilling fits of cold, I ache down to my bones.
I'm starving.
All I want to do is eat. Anything I can get my swaddled hands on, especially cum. I can't get enough of my Master's cock, and the little strength I have I would use to crawl to him and coax the sticky fluid straight from the tap. Mostly they force feed me a funny, slightly slimy porridge. It hardly tastes like anything at all, unless my master cums on it. When he does, I can smell it from across the room. Not that I get to taste it all that often, mostly it is funneled down a tube straight to my stomach.
I'm going to get so fat, I'm sure of it.
I haven't seen what I look like since my first injections on the first night, my face, hands, and body wrapped in gauze for two weeks now. I have hardly seen or heard another soul since my brother abandoned me here with Sam and our Master.
"Okay Dollface, are you ready?"
His voice was a little anxious. It was a tone and timber that I was not used to hearing, he was usually so self assured. What could my answer ever be, but yes, my existence so thoroughly under his control. He'd strapped me to the table again. His clothes must have been covered by crinkly plastic, obviously this was not his most fashionable hour.
"Hold still while I cut some of the wrap off."
The hospital scissors were ice cold against my skin under my arm as he snipped layers of cloth away.
"Looks like I'm right on time. This should help you breathe a little."
The abbreviation in the bandages that bound my chest, absolutely helped me to breathe. I hadn't realized how tight the bandages had become.
"Now, don't cry, there are a few more injections. It will all be over soon."
The searing burn of the injection in the area underneath my right nipple caused me to squirm on the table. He was trying to pacify me, but I knew that a few more meant at least a dozen, maybe more if he was going to do the injection battery around my asshole.
"Stop moving. If I break a needle, you are completely screwed. Understand?"
I nodded, and I did my best to stay still as he injected the hours of the clock around The circumference of my pebbled areola. Tears streamed from my eyes as he put down the syringe and picked up a second, repeating the injections around my left nipple. He lifted my feet and ankles into the stirrups of the table, separating my knees from each other. Again the scissors did their job, making short work of the gauze covering my pussy and hips.
"You know Dollface, this shit is amazing. Gene therapy is cool and all, but the dude who cracked the bimbo code is my personal hero. I would have paid your trust fund twice over to get my hands on it."
He slid a needle into my clit for the second time today. I could almost predict where the needles were going next, this daily ritual of injections had been consistent for the last thirty or so days.
"The book says that I could lessen the pain of injections by asking you to imagine that it is the sensation of an orgasm, the compliance aspect of the kit enables your master to alter your perception of the world with a few well placed words. We could have done that, but your brother said that he wanted you to to feel it all, even though he knew the pain of remodeling bone would be excruciating. What did you do to piss him off?"
My answer was lost in my cry of pain.
"Anyway, this set of injections is supposed to make the hair follicles die, leaving the skin bright and polished in appearance, we could actually change your skin pigmentation if we had the right stuff in this kit. One syringe injection per limb, at the armpit and cunt another if the depilatory process is patchy. It ought to leave your scalp alone unless I inject it."
I barely acknowledged him for the searing sensation racing through my body. As he slipped the needles in between my toes, I wanted to hate my brother, but as the fire spread to my knees and master continued to inject the arches of my feet, the feelings of loathing slipped away. I wanted to hate my master, but my clit and nipples throbbed when I thought of him.
"Let's finish up with this little beauty for today."
He cut the bandages from my lips.
"These hypos should shape your lips into a perfect cock sucking mouth, two cc's in the upper lip, three in the lower, and the balance in the tongue. No injections in your cheekbones today though, you were very brave yesterday when we changed your eye color."
The nightmare experience of having a needle full of fire pushed into my eyeball, would be enough to keep me awake at night forever. I tried not to imagine where the forceps came from as he fished out my tongue. These injections had caused it to swell inside my mouth, there was no way I would be able to speak or complain at all now.
"Oh shit, well I guess that rules out a blow job today, but your pussy should be nice and tight."
After stripping off his protective garments, I could hear him stroke his cock erect fairly quickly. He had a respectable dick, not quite as big around as a beer can, but easily as thick as an energy drink and one and a half as long.
"I read in the manual that as long as you maintain a steady diet of man cum, you won't ovulate. That guy thought of everything."
He slapped his Billy club of a dick on the screaming knot of pain I called my clit, until he rubbed the head of his cock in the folds of my swollen pussy lips. He began to thrust, and because of the pain, I passed out.
****************************
I awoke to the sensation of tugging, and Sam roughly cut and removed the cloth that swaddled my flesh. I could hear in her breathing that she was upset, and I could certainly feel it in the way she was handling my care. While I couldn't see her for the wrapping over my eyes, I felt her tears hitting the gauze. I could barely speak with my tongue and lips still feeling swollen, even if my mouth and jaw were not wrapped up, I don't think at the moment I could have managed it. I felt a terrible empathy with the pain she was feeling, and that was Bullshit because any other day of my life I'd never give a shit about bimbo tears.
The cool air of the room felt good on my skin, my hands and feet had stopped throbbing. I was pretty sure they both had left the shame of my tits on display to mock me. I hadn't noticed how rough the gauze had become on my hips, until I was free. Sam had cut loose my legs and was working the scissors up the side of my hip toward my armpit.
I wished they would just get it over with and remove the wrap from my eyes so that I could at least see what was going on! Sam had cut free every part of my body but my face. It sounded like she had calmed down, the quiet crying had stopped.
"You know, this doesn't always work out. Sometimes you might come out horribly deformed. Sometimes somebody switches the syringes on the tray. You just never know."
She tightened the restraints holding my wrists, neck, and waist to the table. She began to sponge my skin down, washing me, and I felt cooler on the skin she had finished attending. She scrubbed my legs, feet, and roughly scoured my pussy without any trace of kindness.
"I have a plan b, just in case that happens don't you worry. There, all that nasty body hair is all gone. "
The light on my eyes was blinding as she cut my face free. The shock in her sharp intake of breath chilled my bones. When my eyes adjusted to the light, the first thing I noticed was that I no longer needed my glasses to see! Sam, however, was all sadness and pity faced. She gingerly scrubbed my face. There was no pattern to this care, and some spots she focused upon and others she barely touched.
"Oh dear. Nothing to be done about that. But don't worry, you were his Dollface before, and now you will be forever after."
She opened a box out of the line of my sight. I saw the inside of a half mask, the moment before it settled on my face. Sam, her double D tits hanging in my face, locked the form fitting ceramic into place behind my head. In a bizarrely maternal moment, combed and brushed my hair around the straps.
"I would have got you a full mask, but we still have to make some use out of that mouth of yours. Take my advice. Don't ever remove it, for your own good, don't look. And God, don't let anyone you're fucking see what you really look like under there, not if you want to keep fucking them."
I didn't know what to do, I mean, illegal gene therapy could have done anything to me. I know that I feel different, that I feel stronger, there is a weight on my chest and even my hair has changed.
