Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home

Review This Story || Author: Benfan

On the Table

Part 4

"Nurse, get her cleaned up

"Nurse, get her cleaned up.  I need some images for marketing."

 

The doctor began turning knobs on the oral restraints while the silent, rubber-clad nurse swabbed the bound girl's face with an alcohol-soaked pad.  On the ceiling monitor the captive watched as the colored dots were wiped away, along with a few specks of blood.  The steel claws of the jaw clamps were released and swung back.  At last her face was clean and free - except for the shiny steel band across her forehead, which held her firmly in the sculpted headrest.  It felt wonderful to flex her jaw, and to feel blood rush back into the parts of her gums that had been compressed by the clamps while the doctor had done his work.  Apparently the deep-seated muscles that operated her jaw had been unaffected by the botox treatment.

 

"There, isn't that a pretty girl?  Except for your eyes, so red and cranky.  Soon we'll cauterize the capillaries that make your eyes so puffy, but we usually wait to do the eyes until a subject's been vended and the client specifies what style he'd prefer.  For now, I have some drops that will clear you up."  He unscrewed a dropper-top from a small glass bottle and let stinging droplets fall into the wet brown eye of his captive subject.  After the first set of drops warned her of the sting, he had to use his fingers to hold the lids of her other eye open while he administered the drops.

 

After a few moments the stinging began to fade and the girl opened her eyes again, blinking rapidly to clear them.  On the monitor she saw the redness and swelling had diminished.  Immediately she began to test the features of her face, to see how much damage the botox had done.  The same dopey little smile remained that she had first seen when in the grip of the oral restraints.  She could expand the smile, but to frown or even maintain a neutral expression seemed impossible.  She could pucker or pout her lips - in fact those motions came more easily than in her prior life, and her pucker was now almost cartoonish - but she could not curl the lips back from her teeth.

 

Her jaw worked fine, and she could blink her eyes - though the lids seemed to flap in odd detachment from their surroundings.  She could not wrinkle her brow in fret, nor lower it in anger.  When she tried to raise her eyebrows as though frightened, only the outer corners responded.  Rather than conveying fear, the resulting expression resembled the arched "bad girl" stare of some black-and-white movie goddess.  Finally she relaxed and considered the face at rest.  It belonged to a silly young tease: free of care, simple-minded, playful.  That was the mask she would wear for the rest of her life.

 

The result of the carefully targeted botox overdosing was, in a sense, a horrifying disfigurement.  But looking up at her new face the girl could not say that the treatment had left her scarred.  In fact quite the opposite: the banishment of worry and fear from her face allowed a natural beauty to shine through as it seldom had before.  Inside she felt abused and mutilated, but on the monitor her face looked relaxed, and pretty.

 

She noticed the red light on the overhead camera had been blinking.

 

"That was great - marketing will be able to cull a lot of good stills from that sequence."  The doctor paused to tap some keys on a computer terminal outside the girl's field of vision.  "I've sent that last clip along.  The boys in marketing will pick a few choice stills and use them, along with some computer-generated interpretations of what your body will look like when your mods are complete, to illustrate your notice of availability.  That notice will be distributed very discretely, to previous clients of ours and to others who have been qualified as recipients.  Shortly, based on those images and our report on your various measurements and potentials, you'll be put up for auction.  If you find a buyer at that time, he'll be able to specify the rest of your modifications, and many details of your appearance.  I say 'if you find a buyer,' because the reserve price is set quite high for these pre-completion auctions.  Many subjects don't find a buyer at this stage.  We complete those projects according to our own judgement and offer them for auction again after completion, and it's possible that's how it could go for you.  But based on the performance you just gave and your physical potential, my guess is you'll be one of the lucky ones who becomes a truly 'custom' pleasure companion."

 

"Now, the client who makes a pre-completion purchase from our clinic gets to choose from a wide variety of options for his new toy.  To help him choose - him or her, I should say: the great majority of our clients are male but we are an equal-opportunity vendor - to help them choose we use proprietary software to morph your features into an approximation of how the various options would look when stretched over your unique bone structure.  I can tap into that program right here on your monitor - let me show you the possibilities."

 

The developer tapped out a long series of keystrokes and the live image of the girl's face snapped out.  After a pause another image zoomed in, of a naked 3-dimensional female figure with arms outstretched and legs slightly spread.  Most of the figure was portrayed in a generic, peachy "flesh" color, but as the view zoomed in the girl saw that her own face was superimposed on it - the new bimbo-ized version of her face, with its wide eyes and mindless grin.

 

The proportions of the generic figure matched her image of her own body in some ways, but not others.  She saw the wide hips she cursed her mother for, and the boyishly broad shoulders.  But the waist was much too narrow, the legs too trim.  Her muscle tone looked good - all those hours in the pool and the gym paying off.  But her big hips and shoulders and those silly boobs...what a cow she was.

 

"Skin Palettes, ok, Caucasian, here we go..."

 

Except for the face, the body on the monitor became pale, almost bluish white, with prominently pink nipples.  "No, no....OK I'll just scroll through the options."  In rapid succession the figure's flesh tone change from pallid to Central African ebony to sallow Asian, with stops in between at blushing Nordic white, South Asian brown, and California tan.  Finally the doctor found a tone close to that of the girl's superimposed face: light olive, like generations of her ancestors who had walked under the Mediterranean sun.  Her nipples became light brown, the short-cropped and bikini-waxed fuzz about her private parts, dark.

 

"Good.  This is a simulation based on how you appeared when we acquired you, modified to show how your various changes should look after swelling is reduced, dressings are removed, and etcetera."  The girl glanced at the figure's feet, and noted they pointed straight down. They appeared too narrow and delicate, especially in contrast with her shapely athletic legs.  Her gaze shot to the figure's wide-spread arms.  Her own remained numb and unresponsive - for all she knew, they might have been amputated.  But the computer-generated figure retained all four limbs.

 

"Mah ahhmms..."  Her partially paralyzed lips made it difficult to form words, and she still struggled with the various drugs as well.

 

"What was that?"  The doctor seemed surprised by his subject's sudden effort at speech.

 

"Mah ahhmms. Wasss rung wit mah ahhmms."

 

"Oh, your arms.  We have performed several procedures that will affect your arms.  We've taken the precaution of numbing them more thoroughly than the rest of your body, to protect them while they heal.  But rest assured they're still attached to your body."

 

"Now then, here is how you'll look when the mods we've already begun are completed."  At the tap of a key, the figure's breasts began to swell, and its waist shrank.  The captive girl's eyes bugged as the boobs inflated like balloons.  When the growth stopped, each of the monstrous mams was probably twice as big as the figure's - her own - head.  Their bottoms were nearly even with her bellybutton and the sides projected well outside the frame of its ribcage.  Her waist, just visible below the shaded 3-D jugs, had shrunk to a disproportionately small diameter.  The torso of the modified figure was reduced to a collection of plump curved shapes: the two enormous boobs most prominently, joined at the pinched, fragile-looking waist to the wide oval pelvic area.

 

"This is what we mean by 'fantasy' pleasure companion.  Some of our clients use our talents to replicate female celebrities, or ex-wives.  Be thankful you're not a candidate for that latter role.  You have been chosen by our staff, because of your natural potential, to be remade into an idealized female form."

 

"See how your wide shoulders distribute the weight of those enormous titties?  The skinny girls you were so jealous of when your sorority went clothes shopping in the city - yes, we were watching - those skinny girls couldn't carry that kind of volume.  And look there: you have the hips of a fertility goddess.  The computer hasn't altered them at all, they just stand out a little better in this image because we've fuck...(ahem)...tucked in your waist and thighs a bit."

 

The doctor looked into her face and added with apparent sincerity: "You were born for this role, my girl.  It's lucky we found you."

 

The mind of the helplessly bound, tortured, and completely exhausted captive was far past processing all this with anything like logic or reason.  A strange brew of thoughts and emotions bubbled in her head as she looked up at the image of what she was to become.  From the playful bimbo's face through the ultravoluptuous curves to the tiny delicate feet, the vision was horrible, perverse....but sexy as hell.  It exaggerated the very features she'd tried so hard - through dress, exercise and diet, posture - to conceal....but celebrated them, too.  Her conscious mind recoiled at the image, but she couldn't deny that far back in the attic of her brain, she felt a tingle of excitement in the notion of men bidding for her, fighting over this ideal female.

 

With an effort of will, the girl closed her eyes against her future.  She was no goddess.  She was a wide-hipped girl from the suburbs.  She was good at math, and swimming, and wanted to be a schoolteacher.  This "doctor," and his associates, might cut and inject her, but she was still herself.

 

"For a little while longer," said a voice inside her head.

 

----------------------------------------------

 

"Don't you want to see the menu of mods available for you?  So far the program is only displaying the few treatments our staff has already ordered.  It can also simulate the variety of detail treatments that your buyer might specify for you.  Or would you rather be surprised?"  The girl opened her moist eyes again to take in her possible futures.  One thing she did not want was to be surprised by whatever further changes were performed to her body.

 

"OK, I have no idea where you might be vended, so I'll just start a slide show sequence of the various treatments that might be selected.  That should keep you entertained while I leave you alone here with your nurse for a bit.  She's efficient enough in her duties, but not very good company.  I'll be back again later to check on you."

 

He turned to the trim, silent nurse.  "Twelve, all the subject's requirements are on the chart.  After cleaning her up she's due for a topical breast treatment, and it's time for the basic wiring setup.  I should be back before you're finished."  After tapping some keys on the computer terminal he left the room, humming a cheerful tune.

 

While the nurse busied herself with some preparations, the captive girl watched as the image on the monitor zoomed to a closeup of her feet, which were pointed down, nearly in line with her lower legs.  She could see now how the surgeon why they looked so small.  There were only four toes - the big toe and three of the smaller ones - and the foot itself had been narrowed proportionately.  It was very neat work and no scars were visible, at least in the computer image.  She wondered what her own poor, complaining feet looked like now, inside their casts or splints or whatever it was that held them rigid, outside her restricted field of vision.

 

As the girl watched with dreadful fascination, the feet on the monitor oozed into a completely new shape, the toes merging into a single heavy pad, like a hoof.  Then the toes divided again, but folded underneath while the feet shrank into misshapen clubs - like those of an imperial Chinese concubine, bound from youth.  Suddenly the feet disappeared completely, leaving her calves abbreviated at neat padded stumps.  Next, steel hardware faded into view at the stumps, perhaps connectors that might be used to mount some kind of prosthetics to the ends of her legs.  Finally the delicate, four-toed feet that belonged to some fetishized ballerina faded back into view.  The camera zoomed out and panned up, so that her legs became visible from thigh tops to toes.

 

Gasping through her mesh-covered breathing port, the rubberized nurse approached the table carrying a small plastic tub.  She lifted a wet sponge from it with her gloved hand, and began bathing the bound girl from head to toe.  She rubbed briskly and purposefully, but not roughly, and the warm cleansing solution relaxed the captive victim as it wiped away sweat and spatter that had accumulated during the previous session.  When the nurse was done she toweled the girl thoroughly, then draped her again with a blue shoulder-to-knee blanket.  Clicking smoothly back and forth across the room in what the prisoner visualized as very high heels, the nurse retrieved a jar from a cabinet on the wall and stood over the head of her subject, so that the weird masked face appeared upside down as the bulbous mirrored "eyes" looked down on her.  The nurse reached into the jar and brought out dabs of white lotion, which she massaged firmly into the bound girl's face.

 

"I always wanted to go to one of those fancy spas," the captive thought ironically.  She missed long stretches of the slide show while the nurse tended her, but glimpsed some strange images in moments when the black rubber hands didn't block her view.  Apparently amputation of her legs at the knee, or even right under her butt, were possibilities that she faced.  She saw her hips expanded to hippopotamus size, and her waist reduced to the diameter of a coffee can.  At one point the nipples on her enormous mams stretched and thickened until she had the teats of a milk cow.  Then, impossibly, each thumb-sized teat split into four and her boobies became udders.  When the nipples shrank again they didn't stop at a normal size but retracted into her boobs, leaving holes that stretched vertically and grew pink lips at their sides.  Instead of nipples each of her giant boobs now featured a little bald pussy.  She watched all this detachedly - it was impossible to believe these bizarre abominations might actually be inflicted upon her.

 

After completing the facial the nurse drew the blanket down off the girl's breasts, and began applying to them a lotion from another jar she'd taken from the wall cabinet.  This treatment created a sensation of warmth, like a milder form of a heating cream the girl had applied once to a sprained ankle.  As the nurse slowly massaged the warming lotion into her boobies, the girl began to feel something like pleasure, and became deeply relaxed........

 

"Gaaahh!"  She snapped suddenly awake again as sharp pain from her boobs penetrated the fog of drugs and fatigue.  The nurse was still standing over her, the protruding mirrored "eyes" looking down into her face, but had stopped her massage.  The restrained girl could not raise her head to see the source of her new pain, but the angles of her attendant's rubberized arms told her that she was pinching and twisting her nipples - hard.  The girl fluttered her lashes to prove she was awake and after a moment the nurse relaxed her grip, and resumed rubbing the warming cream into the flesh of her subject's breasts.  The girl understood that she was not to sleep.  The doctor had promised a break after the botox masking procedure, and he had kept his promise - for himself.

 

Why won't they just let me sleep? the exhausted captive thought as her eyes filled again with tears.  Then she remembered: sleep deprivation is a tool for interrogation.  They were trying to wear her down, probably brainwash her.  How could she fight it?  She tried to fill her mind with thoughts of happy times she'd spent with family and friends.  But in this strange place those memories seemed distant and difficult to call forth with any vividness, as though her captivity had already lasted four years, or fourteen, instead of a little over four days.

 

She tried harder, concentrating on the pleasant memory of the previous Summer's family vacation.  The nurse had stepped away from the table to work with some equipment, and the girl risked shutting her eyes to focus on recalling that happy time.  She remembered the cozy little cabin in the mountains, walking through green meadows, cooking hotdogs over a fire, looking up at the starry black sky.  She could almost feel the pine-scented breeze in her hair.  Then, while she visualized walking along a sunny creek side trail she felt pain in her feet.  She realized the people around her in this daydream - or had she fallen asleep again - her mother, her younger brother, his friend who'd come along, were looking at her strangely.  She felt self-conscious, and reached up to touch her face.  It felt stiff and numb.  She looked down at herself, and she was naked.  Her boobies were huge, projecting in front of her so that she couldn't see her toes.  She tried to cover herself, but her hands didn't work.  The boys were pointing and laughing at her.  She looked to her mother for pity and understanding, but was met with a look of utter revulsion...

 

Back in the little white room the confined girl felt rubber fingers on her nipple, and her eyes sprang open.  Tears ran freely down her cheeks, and she sobbed.  Could she ever go back?  Even if she escaped, or was rescued, she would be a freak.  No one could ever look at her the same way again.  The girl's pious mother had warned that her hunger for the attention and approval of boys would lead her into a life of sin.  It seemed that mother had been right, even if she'd never imagined the depths of degradation to which her little girl might be drawn.

 

The overhead image was zoomed in to her face, her dim-witted new doll's face, and suddenly she saw in it a true reflection of her lack of wisdom, her weak character.  Wondering what it was she'd done that had led her to this plight, she returned her attention to the screen with a combination of dread, curiosity, and resignation.  She watched as her thick, curly, reddish-brown hair faded away to reveal a smooth bald scalp, and then returned again.  Her brown eyes grew slowly until they were huge and glassy, like a Japanese cartoon.  When they shrank again, they kept narrowing until they disappeared completely, and the eyelids flattened out as though stretched over empty sockets.  Her nose erupted like Pinocchio's - if Pinocchio had a ten-inch dildo for a nose - and despite her condition the girl had to laugh at the ridiculous sight.  Then she recalled her doctor had said that some of his clients were women.  She imagined being buried to the eyeballs in funky female pubic hair, and the dildo-nose didn't seem funny anymore.  The nose shrank again and morphed through many sizes and shapes, before receding back into her skull to leave a puffy bald pussy in its place, complete with a little clitoris right between her eyes.

 

She wondered how long it would take for her to go insane.

 

--------------------------------------------------------

 

The nurse was pasting the last of a half-dozen small wired pads around the girl's forehead when the door swung open with a bang and her developer returned.

 

"OK, how are we doing?  I see Twelve has done a thorough job with your skin treatments.  Now let's get a look at those feet."

 

He snapped on fresh gloves and touched his subject's pained toes.  On the ceiling monitor the lips of her computer-generated twin were inflating into pink bananas, but she focused her attention on the doctor's explorations.  He began peeling tape and dressings from her feet, and the girl was surprised to gather from the touch of his fingers on her bare skin that her feet were apparently not casted or otherwise bound.

 

"Nurse, lets get her cleaned up here."  The attendant began swabbing the feet with something that stung.  At certain places, especially the tips of her toes and the outsides of her feet, the gentle dabs brought sparks of fresh hot pain.

 

"You're coming along very well here.  No more weeping from the wounds and the swelling is going down nicely.  Nurse, get her wired for the electrostimulator."  He stood and returned his attention to the girl.  "That will feel a little funny - people say it's like something crawling on your skin.  But electrostim greatly accelerates the healing of bone and connective tissues, so it'll help you get on your feet much more quickly."  Doctor and nurse worked together to paste sticky pads to the girl's feet, and she heard the snap of plugs being fitted into electronic sockets.

 

"I see the slide show has ended.  So our timing is perfect, it's time to flip you."  Without warning he pulled a pair of mechanical catches below the table, and lifted it at the head end.  The well-balanced apparatus rotated easily, and the girl bound within spun 160 degrees forward until she was looking down toward the floor, her head still slightly above her feet.  The rigid bands that had held her firmly to the table now carried her weight.  There were enough of them, adequately padded and strategically located, so that the load was distributed and her restraint remained reasonably comfortable.  Her long hair had been bound behind her neck, but the wires from the pads the nurse had stuck around her forehead now dangled to either side of her face.  The nurse quickly checked each of the supporting bands, pads and connectors, making adjustments here and there to be certain all was in order.

 

"We need to change your position at intervals so you don't get bedsores, or other complications that come from being held too long in one position.  Your bed here is designed to facilitate this, so we can keep you here pretty much indefinitely, or at least as long as we need to during your physical recovery and training.  Now, one more little thing, and we'll leave you to rest."

 

"Nurse, do you have the MES ready?  200 CC each?  Good."  Staring nearly at the floor now, the girl's ability to see what happened around her was even more restricted.  The doctor's shiny leather shoes appeared next to her.  The hem of his white coat dipped, telling her he was bending to examine her right side.  She felt some fumbling at a sore point she'd sensed at the front of her right armpit, then a sensation of growing tightness and weight in her right breast.  He was inflating her with the liquid plastic.

 

"We like to do these injections with the subject in the prone position because that allows more even tension across the skin, and the fewest stretch marks."  He disconnected what the girl imagined to be a large syringe and moved to her left side.  "These injections are 200 CC each.  As your breasts expand we'll be able to increase the size of each injection.  The rubdown Twelve gave your titties earlier - did you enjoy that? - that was a compound we've developed which encourages the growth of new skin.  It's all part of our integrated expansion technique, which is the most advanced in the world.  There," he concluded, disconnecting the second syringe.  Her boobs felt taut and heavy.

 

"Mix them up for her, Twelve."  The girl saw an pair of black, spike-heeled, calf-high boots enter her field of view.  The needle-like heels must have been 6 inches tall, and the boot tops were bound with rows of tight-buckled straps.  The slim legs that rose out of the boots were clad in baggy, shiny latex.  The nurse stood directly above her head and bent over her, so that the white outer uniform brushed her subject's head.  She reached forward and under the girl's chest, cupped a hanging tit in each gloved hand and shook them gently, allowing the sensitive skin to bump and slide within her clawed fingers.  Then she kneaded the tight, plump boobs, lightly but taking care to work the entire surface.  None of this treatment was painful, but the strapped girl blushed at the violation, at her utter helplessness to defend the privacy and dignity of her own body.  Finally the nurse finished the massage and stepped back.

 

"I'm going to turn the electrostim on now."  A switch was flipped, and the suspended girl felt the promised creepy-crawlies all over her feet and ankles.  "The sensors on your head monitor your brain activity, information that we'll use in many ways throughout your training.  Tonight their only purpose is to monitor your sleep, and make sure you're properly prepared to begin your real training the next time I see you.  We've had a very productive first session!  You probably won't sleep very well, but try not to think too hard about all that's happened, and get some rest.  You still have a lot of healing to do."  The room lights dimmed until the girl could barely see the white tile floor, a few feet from her face.

 

Two sets of footsteps clicked and clacked away from the girl, until they were cut off by the bang of the closing door.  It was quiet, and nearly dark.  Despite her many pains and emotional distress, the first thing the girl thought of was sleep.  She had begun the day already worn down by her several recent surgeries, and the emotional shocks and physical trials she had endured had tapped her last reserves of energy.  She was ashamed at how she had surrendered to the demands of her captor, at how close she'd already come to giving up hope for escape or rescue, but she had just been too tired to resist.  If she could manage even a few hours of sleep, maybe she could be stronger tomorrow.  She did not like the sound of "training," but she pushed fears of the future out of her mind as she closed her eyes.

 

Bound upside down in this mad scientist's laboratory, in pain from shoulder to toe, perforated with piercing and IVs and injection ports and feeling as though she wore socks stuffed with bugs, the girl fell asleep almost immediately....

 

---------------------------------------

 

Bzzzzt!

 

A loud, grating sound filled the girl's head, and the room lights flashed.  She awoke slowly, stunned and sluggish.  What happened?  It was dark again.  She closed her eyes and drifted off once more...

 

Bzzzzt!

 

Again the flashing lights and penetrating sound.  They weren't going to let her sleep!  But he'd promised!  He'd told her she should!  Maybe it was just some kind of electrical short........

 

Bzzzzzzzt!

 

"No, you haff to let meh thleep!  He thed ah could thleep!"  The immobilized girl cried out to the empty room, and wept, her tears making little splatters on the tile floor.

 

In fact her developer was allowing her to sleep.  She did need rest to speed her healing, and he did not want to delay her recovery any more than necessary.  Time is money after all, in the production of pleasure companions as in any venture.  But rapid-eye movement sleep was another matter.  REM is the stage of sleep during which dreams occur, memories are organized, and most of the "re-charging" of the mind that's associated with restful nights occurs.  The developer had set the brainwave monitor and room systems to watch for the telltale patterns of REM, and awaken the girl when they were detected.

 

When her next session began his subject would have recovered somewhat physically, while remaining nearly as exhausted mentally as she had been at the start of the rest period.  She would be well prepared for the next steps in her transformation.

 

[...]

 


Review This Story || Author: Benfan
Previous Chapter Back to Content & Review of this story Next Chapter Display the whole story in new window (text only) Previous Story Back to List of Newest Stories Next Story Back to BDSM Library Home