The Girl On The Wall Ch 01

Chapter 1

"Hey, Sherry -- there's some guy here, says he's Vic, who thinks he knows your girl!"

The girl Charlie spoke of was, in fact, a beautiful young black-haired woman. Her bright violet eyes, proud creamy breasts, taut waist and luscious thighs would have attracted attention even if she hadn't been naked ... and hanging by her arms from a wall out back of his garage. More exactly, she was supported by eye bolts fitted to where her elbows once were - which were shackled in turn to two rings embedded in the garage masonry. And those thighs, although hanging loose, were likewise amputated just above the joint, capped in shiny purple plastic and fitted with bolts.

"Weird! In the two months we've owned her, nobody's recognized her," I said.

"Yeah, we were pretty sure she was from outta State," agreed Eve, my roommate and business partner. Stepping outside, we found a young man staring at the display. We also confirmed that the wall-mounted girl had gone from the vacant look she wore at rest, to her 'Man at Close Range' position: her thighs were spread wide, her butt was swung forward to offer both her oversized, puffy pink lower holes, and her mouth had opened to a wide circle like some obscene mime. So, normal sex-toy behavior.

Apparently unable to decide where to start, Vic came up with, "How long does she have to hang there?"

"On nice days, we move it out here for a bit of sunshine," I said, cautiously. "Not like it can go walkabout on its own. Mostly, it's in its room at the back."

Vic sighed. "That's Valerie, right?"

"Yes, it was ...." It occurred to me that if this guy had known Valerie pre-conversion, I shouldn't continue referring to it as an object. "Actually, she's known as Xena here. Help me lift your friend down, and we'll bring her inside. She's got an appointment soon." I unshackled one arm-ring, and then sent Vic around to the other side. "Right -- now wait until I've taken her weight." Making a fist, I slid an arm up to my elbow in Xena's ass. Having wrapped my other arm around the toy's waist, I continued, "Okay, now release that carabiner. She's not as heavy as she looks ... just balance her against me."

"Christ, she's squirming on the crook of your elbow ... there's juices pouring out of her!"

"Yeah, she's pretty excited right now. That's why we both wear these sleeveless t-shirts. Okay, follow Eve. We'll hang Xena face up, between those four posts over there."

It was awkward, but we managed it. Valerie was still wrestling restlessly against the chains when, after giving her a sloppy kiss, I finally turned to Vic and said, "Come through to the office and I'll explain."

I sat the man down and Eve provided him with the medicinal tumbler of whiskey. Then I said, "To begin with, Valerie agreed to this -- all of it."

"You've spoken with her?"

"She can't speak - her vocal cords were removed. But I can assure you, there are documentary and verbal records of her desires."

"But why would someone ..."

"Fuck her? She's still lovely, and totally eager for it."

"Um, no, I meant ..."

"Sorry," I said, only slightly embarrassed at giving the man my stock misinterpretation of this question. "Why would a woman choose this? You'd be amazed. The clinic that does the, um, conversion says they assess volunteers for suitability. Even after turning down girls who have mental health issues, there are quite a few who want a totally stress-free existence. As for Valerie ... how well did you know her?"

"She's my ... friend. But I haven't seen her lately."

"So you wouldn't have known she had a brain tumor."

"Oh my God!"

"The diagnosis was terminal. But somebody told her about the clinic ... and she opted to be one of their 'FuckToys'. You know, instead of being dead. We bought her back in May. That basically paid for the work -- it's really pricey."

"Twice an arm and a leg, apparently." Vic seemed to be taking the news reasonably well. "And now?" He pointed to the widescreen CCTV monitors that showed the restless toy.

"Ah. That's the profit model for her continued upkeep and, um, entertainment. Charlie just fixes cars, but he provides the space to house her, and rents us the suite upstairs. In essence, we're sorta small-time Madames," I said, pointing at a license posted nearby. "Val gets lots of positive stimulation from her visitors, who pay us for the privilege. That goes to her room, board and maintenance - daily feeding and hygiene and stuff -- and ours." Smiling, I swept a slightly sticky arm to indicate myself and my partner. "She's happy, her fans are happy, and so are we. Her next visitors are due any minute."

"So she's a whore, now?"

"Not exactly -- I got that license just to be sure, but technically a FuckToy isn't human," I admitted. "Anyhow, she's not aware of any of that. Or much else, to be honest."

Eve took up the tale. "There's not much going on upstairs for her, any more. But I'm convinced there is still a spark of personality -- of Valerie - in her. You'll probably be a better judge of that if you stay around a while."

"I'd like that, I think."

"Good. So ... I was the one who picked her up from the clinic. They gave me a tour of the place, where they did all the work. It takes months. The doctor in charge showed me the contract Val had signed -- to make sure she knew what she was doing." She lifted a sheet from the corner of the desk and quoted:

*'Your outer limbs will be removed first, and then we'll anchor big eye-bolts to your exposed bones. While the stumps heal, we'll modify your digestion to accept a fiber-free liquid diet. The intent is to optimize your throat, colon and vagina for depth and sensitivity. That involves taking out your uterus, parts of your stomach and intestines, plus your tongue. We also take out your teeth, and put back just enough rubber to support your cheeks.'*

"Dear God!" Vic interrupted.

"I know, right? He read this to me in the middle of the same operating room he said he'd read it to her, with a bunch of scalpels and power saws around. I had to keep from upchucking. If wasn't for the cancer... Anyway, there's more:

*'Last, but not least, are the cosmetic changes -- we'll enlarge your breasts, nipples, and clitoris, and cap the stumps.

These processes are irreversible. As per our agreement, therefore, once manufacture has begun you will immediately become property of the clinic, a body to be processed into a FuckToy able to be deeply penetrated in all three orifices. On completion, the clinic is free to sell it to whomever they choose.'*

"And that was us!" finished Eve.

"Trust me," I said. "She's been overhauled to be an excellent sex toy."

"Ah, there they are," Eve said, pointing at the monitor. "I'll be right back."

Standing up, I said, "The window behind that curtain has a better view. It's a one-way mirror. Let's watch."

Eve was chatting with two men who seemed to be regulars. They certainly didn't mind her being there. From the window, Vic watched as one of them stepped between the FuckToy's thighs and unsheathed a good-sized cock. He pumped his foreskin back and forth to warm up, and then he slid the fat thing up to the hilt in Xena's pussy. At the same time, his buddy released his own, remarkably long cock, and slid all of it deep into her throat. Now both her throat and her belly were visibly stretched, and she was bouncing between her patrons.

It became clear to our guest why Eve had stayed -- she was leaning against the far wall with her hand under her skirt. He must have felt my presence beside him - he glanced over to see me groping under my own skirt, with the same hand that had just been in Valerie. Unable to restore my dignity -- or extract my hand -- I just shrugged and smiled at him.

Both the 'visitors' sloshed in and out for a while, until the guy in Xena's throat drove home, hard, and started to pump cum into her for what seemed like ages. The other guy had time to shoot his own load while throat-guy was still delivering his spunk. Meanwhile Xena was writhing in apparent ecstasy, her eyes shut tight and all of her truncated body shiny with sweat.

She was still bobbing her head and gently swinging in her support chains once the men had disengaged. After each giving the FuckToy affectionate caresses to the nearest end, they sorted themselves out. "Xena is in good form, as always," said Long-Cock, as they left. No cash had changed hands -- probably, Vic supposed, these guys had standing accounts for 'auto maintenance'.

While Eve sprayed her charge (and herself) with a garden hose, I slipped in to help towel down the toy and then help shift her to a nearby wall, hanging her vertically from a pair of rings like those outside. A sign above her gave her working name: 'XENA'.

Having followed, Vic had a closer look around the room, taking in the hook-rings and shackles all over, and the concrete floor that was sloped to drain. He chose to ignore, for now, the FuckToy's automatic response to his presence, and instead asked, "How does she not gag?"

"Not a problem," said Eve, her voice a little husky. "The clinic fitted her with silicon air hoses, straight from nose to windpipe, so she can only breathe that way. Switching from windpipe to gullet is what her larynx did -- but it was extracted along with her vocal cords. The idea is to improve the depth of that hole, too. Her throat doesn't go anywhere but her stomach now, or what's left of it. Anyway, no gag reflex is necessary, and there's no problem breathing while she waits for her visitor to finish. Also, semen is factored into her diet."

"Okay ...so Val does a regular trade?"

"Hell, yeah! So many cocks ... but the ladies come to play, too!"

"We just put her back on her usual mounting," I explained, "but her visitors move her all over. Yesterday they had her hanging by her left arm and leg stumps for a while -- that was for a guy at each end, too. Last week a guy had her upside down and she didn't seem to mind. I think she likes the variety. They lift bits of her for better access, too. And a couple of times Carl - this big guy that looks like a Viking and has a cock even bigger than the dude you just saw - marched around the room with her bouncing up and down on his stiff shaft. That wang was all that was supporting her!"

Obviously aroused by our proximity -- and annoyed by our lack of physical attention - the suspended FuckToy had switched from offering her orifices to arching her back so as to thrust her now leaking boobs forward. Eve obliged her by stepping closer and latching her mouth onto the smiling sex toy's left teat. Quivering, the thing snorted and then swung her torso to offer her other fat tit to Vic and I ... on a sort of first-cum basis.

To me, Vic said, "Big dicks are one thing, but when you brought her inside earlier, you had her arm lodged in ..."

Releasing Val's right boobie, Eve wiped off the milk trickling from her chin and admitted, "Actually, I can get most of my arm into all her holes ..." She proceeded to demonstrate by gently sliding her left fist into Xena's mouth and continuing to drift it ever deeper.

"Right ..." said Vic, once Eve's crooked elbow prevented further penetration into the FuckToy.

"So sue me," Eve responded. "The thing is, the clinic doctor told me they rearranged even more innards than the pamphlet described. They moved nearly two feet of colon straight up from her ass, and joined it to whatever was left of her intestines. The rest of her colon was used to extend her pussy up past where her womb was -- now it meets with her top and bottom plumbing."

"The doctor explained all that to you?"

"Yup. He said that then they packed Val's belly with some foam -- just enough so she'd be way slimmer, but not skeletal. And foam instead of all that wet goop in us helps make her even lighter. Removing all those excess bits puts way less load on her shoulders. That's also why her big new boobs are light-weight implants."

"Huh. You two must spend a lot of time with her together."

"Sometimes," Eve nodded, trying to hide a smile and a bit of a blush. "We need to get each other off, once in a while."

"Totally," I agreed. "One or both of us are on duty most of the day. We keep an eye on her when she entertains her visitors, and hose her down after if necessary. And after Charlie closes up, we scrub her whole body -- 'specially her privates - with a bucket of soapy water and a sponge. Once we've rinsed her, we pop a rubber hose down her throat ... that flushes right through to her nether holes. After that we swap it out for a big, dong-shaped feeder. It drizzles in a sort of clear slime, with nutrients and vitamins and stuff. We think it's also laced with hormones to keep her super horny. I tried a pint, and then I had to go fuck Charlie. Anyway, there's a tank of the goop up there."

"Sounds unappetizing," Vic said, glancing at the feed storage. "No offense to Charlie."

"She doesn't seem to mind the stuff," said Eve - who was rather fond of its effects, and kept me busy of an evening. "To be honest, it's the consistency of semen. You can see her throat work on that fat phallus for hours. We leave it in there all night -- she can suck on it as she pleases. All her tubes secrete her lube -- ooh, a little poem. Anyway, she's forever leaking -- even that bogus milk is the same stuff - so she needs to take in enough liquid to get through the next day." She reached down and expertly twiddled the toy's protruding fat clit. "We used to wonder about her nights, after we go upstairs to bed. The poor thing is left hanging alone in the dark all night."

"Perhaps she dreams of having lots of orgasms."

Laughing, Eve said, "I hope so. We've started putting a little vibrator WAY up inside her pussy, before we leave. There's a sort of skin pocket in there, like it was custom made. Anyhow, by morning it's run down, so we fish it out to charge for the next night. The girl is so keen for it she'll flap her stumps if we forget, so she must enjoy it ... and remember.

"See, there's more I haven't told you. The doc told me that she's been totally made over to be a sex toy, designed both physically and mentally to give and receive pleasure -- to live in the moment. To do that, they start with a mind make-over, so she'll have no anxiety about the procedures that follow. Basically, they use chemicals, hormones, and brain surgery to flush all her memories -- they'd only be a hindrance to her new function."

"That makes sense ..."

"Yeah, well, never mind her experiences, her education ... she doesn't even remember ever having limbs. That last part's good, I guess - but she doesn't remember family or friends, either. Not even her own name!"

"Isn't that what you said volunteers would want? No recollection of any other life than cheerfully hanging around, watching for people to come and pleasure them -- and sharing orgasms with them. No stress or worry, and no interest whatsoever in what the next day, or the next, will bring."

"Sure. But I look at Val, and I worry that her inner self was wiped clean!" Eve paused, then said, "Last month, the doctor I'd met at the clinic came around for her routine maintenance and checkup. Sherry and I watched the guy fondling her and chatting away, while our sex toy was smiling and nodding. So Sherry says, 'Can she understand you?' -- Because Val never even did the blink-twice-for-no thing for us. And the Doc said, 'No -- its language center has been mostly removed. But it responds to the cadence of our voices -- cheerful, calm, or lustful. As long as I keep caressing and soothing it, its need for full-on orgasmic activity eases. Of course, our FuckToys are all a bit different, you know. Still', he added with a laugh, 'I think this one sometimes associates a word or two with the action'. Then he whispered, 'fuck me'. The poor girl's head tilted -- she was confused because the Doc made no advances that matched what had become triggering sounds. She still smiled, but she also started to drool, big-time ... from everywhere."

"It was kinda Pavlovian, actually. Well, we couldn't leave her hanging," I said. "So I gave her a good poking."

"Ha! I remember how you put an arm up her pussy and her butt both ... which squashed your boobs together and guaranteed her juices would flood all over them."

"Thanks for the embarrassing reminiscence, Eve. Anyhow, we tried a variation. Watch."

To the FuckToy, I simply said, VAL," while squeezing her right arm stump nearest the eyebolt. She grinned in anticipation -- insofar as she lifted the edges of her open mouth - and gave a few nasal chuffs. "She doesn't know her name, of course. She simply knows our game has begun, Sort of the first handshake." Then I crouched down to pussy level and slipped my hand deep into the fuck toy's remarkably snug snatch. The irregular pattern of expansion of the thing's belly signaled to the others some sort of hand flexing was going on inside there.

"That's the second handshake ..." Eve explained.

Finally I extracted my arm, then pulled the suspended toy toward my mouth and proceeded to suck on her clit. The magic was that every time I flicked her joy-button with my tongue, Val gave a matching snort through her nostrils.

"There you are," Eve said, referring to the Inner Val's reappearance -- insofar as she was engaging in an activity that was not entirely devoted to a search for her next orgasm. Listening to Val's rhythmic snorks, she added, "I'll never get over that. I watched you teach her that game, and I thought it would never work." To Vic, she said, "There's no encoded message, of course. They're just sharing some pleasurable moments -- she can echo our patterns for ages. The look in her eyes?

I'm sure a part of Val is still in there. I think maybe the best part."

Vic nodded, and then quietly asked, "Will FT-037 remember me, do you think?"

Both of us turned to stare at the man. Val had an ornate tattoo wrapped around her right arm stump, nearest her anchor. It was seriously challenging to read the script, 'EMS-FT-037', woven into the swirling design. This was the clinic's formal branding, standing for: Eros Morphology Specialists - FuckToy unit number 37.

It was me who called Vic out. "Val's full name was Valerie Frank. And I noticed earlier that you look quite a bit like her, barring gender ... and height. Would you be Victor Frank?"

"Yes. I'm Valerie's elder brother. And Eve -- from your bug eyed expression, I see you recognize my name from Ms. Shelley's reasonably well informed book. So, yes, I am a descendant of the gentleman named in her title, and experimental surgery remains a family interest. I, too, am a doctor -- as was Valerie."

"Doctor Victor Frankenstein," Eve said, quietly. "You run EMS?"

"We've been Franks since we came to America," he answered. "I founded EMS. And yes, I did the conversion for Val ... at her request, as Sherry said earlier. Most of my subjects receive a complete memory wipe, but of course I promised Val I'd try to retain what I could. As you can see, that was little enough."

"So that's why you sold her?" Eve was scowling now.

"Yes ... and no. I felt she would stabilize more over time -- and that I'd have to wait. So I sold her locally, to someone I'd researched as being a good fit. Someone who would care for her. Sherry and you, to be exact."

I wasn't quite mollified. "Researched?" It was my turn to scowl. "And why did you let us carry on about Val without telling us all this?"

"Obviously I researched you. She is my sister, after all. And I wanted to confirm those reports before I confessed." Vic waited while we processed everything -- the Frankenstein thing in particular - and then quietly continued, "Valerie was one of my co-workers at the clinic. You may be sure that I'd never previously had sexual relations with her, but once she'd decided on her course of action, she asked me to 'break her in' ... to use her as her future clients would. She knew very well what would be done to restructure her into one of our FuckToys -- and how these completed units are always enthusiastic, shall we say, to engage in their new careers.