I was walking from the gym to the car park. It was around 10 pm. A heavy workout, hot shower and a mind-numbing DVD were my rescue for the evening. Mike and I had split up during the previous week and I struggled filling my evenings with something other than anger, second thoughts and boredom.

I was furious about the cause of our break-up; it was about salaries and my body. We had both started together as novice journalists at one of the local newspapers, him in local news, me in the science section. After a year I had accumulated a greater number of main feature stories and even though I told him that the competition was less in the science section, he did not take it kindly.

His irritation became obvious during the Christmas break. I had off and he had to work. With the evaluation early January, his nagging became worse, first over my clothes and my moods, then over my writing and finally my body. I don't know how he knew about the difference in our salaries but it was on the evening of the pay slips when his attack became merciless. He told me that he was sometimes feeling like he was gay given that I was looking like a boy and did not care to dress up in fancy clothes.

True my mother, who I hardly knew, had given me a slim body, five foot six, typical runner physique, not much boobs or butt to talk about. My dark brown curly hair and eyes were from my non-existing dad. I had grown up with my maternal grandmother and, while not having too much money to spend, fortunately had missed nothing in terms of love and gaining a good portion of self-confidence. So, I walked out on Mike.

He couldn't take it. The past few days proved that he was badmouthing me among colleagues at work. And he began to entice my best friend, Annie. I felt increasingly isolated and was seriously considering changing job. Since my grandmother died two years ago, there was little that held me in this city. 

Hence my thoughts were someplace else when I was walking up to my car. A dark blue van was parked close and I was wondering whether I could get my car door open. I placed the gym bag onto the ground, took the keys out my jeans pocket and tried to squeeze in between. As I was unlocking the door, I heard the side door of the van opening. I knew I was in trouble.

A hand was pressed over my mouth. I was pulled backwards into the van, the prick of a needle. It went so fast, the van door was closing and locking me into darkness before I even began to struggle and attempted to scream. The man holding me was big and muscular. I had no chance, didn't even see him since he was standing behind me. With his right arm he managed to pin both of my arms to my body, the left hand was holding my chin and nose together, smothering any means of attracting attention.  Within seconds, I was passing out. While he lowered me to the floor, I heard him saying, “Get her bag.” Then it was all dark.

When I first drifted up to consciousness, I could not find enough space for my tongue. I tried to focus, was wondering why my tongue no longer fitted in my mouth. It seemed impossible. It must be a bad dream, a nightmare, I told myself. I kept pondering but was too tired to solve the puzzle.

When I woke up the second time, I immediately knew it was not a nightmare, it was reality. I was in the dark, laying on the side in a confined space, doubled-over, my hands tied to my feet, naked, my jaws spread painfully open by an undefined object. I remembered the arms, the injection.

Panic washed over me like an avalanche. I could not get enough air. The thing in my mouth grew by the second. I coughed, jerked, struggled, pulled on the restraints, walls enclosing from all sides, a sharp pain on my wrists and ankles, my ears drumming. I tried to scream but made no more than a muffled sound which did not seem to carry beyond the darkness around me.

It took me an eternity to get myself under control and investigate beyond the pounding of my heart and the stench of my fear. My wrists and ankles were shackled together with steel cuffs, almost no slack. My mouth was held wide open by a rubber ball lodged behind my teeth and causing an awful taste. I tried to push it out but could hardly move my tongue. Straps were biting into the corners of my mouth, a blindfold covered my eyes.

My back, feet and side pressed onto a hard cool surface, plastic, strong plastic. I pushed against it, it would not yield. I struggled to get my feet around and sit up but was simply rewarded by my head hitting the lid. I was confined to a box. It was quiet. Where was I? In the van? If so, it was no longer moving. As I was moving around, I realized that I was not completely naked. I first thought that they had left me with my slip then realized that I was wearing diapers.

I was desperate to find a reason for my situation. Why would I be taken? Kidnapped for money? My job did not pay that well and I was still repaying the debts from my studies. Also I had no living or dead relative who could choke up a ransom fee. Was this revenge by Mike? Would he be that crazy? A darker reason? I had heard stories of women supposedly abducted and sold. I never believed them and given my lack of physical assets an unlikely target. Then it hit me. A killer, somebody who wanted to satisfy his sick needs for rape, torture and death. The panic was back.

I again tried to scream. I realized the futility but did not want to accept it. Tears were streaming down my face, my nose began to clog. As I felt my air supply being cut off by the gag and saliva, I became desperate to get myself under control.

Later I was just lying there, listening. Nothing, unbearable silence; indeed the darkness and silence seemed to spread from the box into my body until I no longer knew whether I had been there for minutes or days. I tried to recall advice given by the police to kidnap victims. Try to establish a bond, get the abductor attached to you so he will not kill you. The uncertainty was bad but probably still better than what would happen next. I was terrified.

I must have fallen asleep or passed out. I was woken up, when they lifted the box. Tilts, bumps from all sides; a door was slamming. As little space there was, I was sliding around, my head bumped into the corner. Somebody was swearing. After a few minutes, the box was put down, pushed across the floor. A voice said, “Secure it.” My bewilderment deepened when I heard an engine starting. I had been loaded into an airplane.

The plane took off. Curiosity gained the upper hand. If this was a sick joke by Mike, it was an expensive one, hence unlikely. An insane killer? Also unlikely, they usually do not fly around in private jets nor do they very often work in groups. Moreover this seemed to have been planned. But why me? I was not an investigative journalist and nowhere near uncovering a drug cartel and I doubted that my recent work on climate change provided a reason for my being here. Was I mistaken for somebody else?

I was pondering but got no answers. Anger grew. My entire body was hurting, I was thirsty and needed to pee, and I did not know why I was here and how long I would be here. I heard people moving around, bumped my feet against the wall, tried to get their attention. No reaction; the lid remained closed. I made an effort to get rid of the blindfold but it was secured with tape to my face, the straps tight. Given that I had not choked so far, I deduced that air must be coming into the box but I could not locate the inlet.

It seemed we flew for hours. I finally peed into the diapers. It was not too disgusting; most of the moisture was absorbed. After we landed, the box was transferred to the trunk of a car. We drove only for a few minutes. Then the box was put onto a trolley and wheeled away, tuning corners, doors opening, a few bumps. I heard several people talking but could not understand what was being said.

When the box was lifted down to the floor, I was tenser than a bow string, my heartbeat in my ears. The lid opened. Hands lifted me out and put me down on a cold tile floor, the straps of the blindfold were released and the blindfold with its tape roughly pulled from my face.

I was lying on the side, blinked a few times to adjust to the light, then looked up and around. Three men and a woman were staring down at me, their eyes assessing me. My eyes immediately honed in on the woman, first with relieve but then I saw her eyes. They were cold and boring into mine like she was keen to see my fear.

She wore a white lab coat and held a note board. Bright red fingernails which were matched by her lips. She was beautiful, chestnut colored hair, very pale, green eyes. First I thought she was young but then moved the age estimate up to the late forties.

Two of the men were in their early thirties, in black T-Shirts and black jeans, one blond the other dark haired. They looked like personal trainers you find by the dozen, muscle-packed bodies oozing of nutritional additives and time spent in the gym; confident and in control of other bodies, now very obviously mine. The third was older, in his fifties, gray hair, tall and lean. He had the air of a professor and was dressed in shirt, tie and trousers.

From the corners of my eyes I noticed that the room was large and tiled white, like an oversized bathroom, various pulleys and other attachments hanging down from the ceiling, shower heads and several hoses on one wall, a lab bench on the side.

The dark-haired guy hunched down and opened a padlock on my cuffs. I realized that each of my wrists was cuffed to the respective ankle using handcuffs, and that the padlock had held the two sets of cuffs together. Taking one of my ankles with its corresponding wrist, he turned me on my back and removed the diapers. I was lying fully exposed in front of these people.

Humiliation and anger rushed through me. I tried to turn to the side, wanting to hide my breasts and crotch. The second T-Shirt guy immediately grabbed the other ankle, and between the two of them I was kept in full view. I struggled, could not believe that this was happening then began to cry, more because of the futility of my struggles than fear.

“Quite a catch.” The older man said. “She is absolutely perfect.”

“You are disappointing me, John. I thought you liked them with bigger breasts,” the woman responded.

“Well that can be fixed. But otherwise, I will be damned if she will not get us a top price provided we succeed this time. Look at her, she is young and lean, not too tall and almost moves like a cat. Are we sure about her genetics?”

“Yes, I got hold of her samples and repeated the test. She should do just fine.”

“To find the right genetics in such a body is one amazing streak of luck. I just hope the treatment will work this time.”

“She has quite a strong natural tan. We will need to be careful to get the coloration right.”

“That will be for the designers to address.”

The woman turned to the men holding me. “I want to see her on the table tomorrow. So process her today. And make sure that she drinks. She is probably dehydrated.”

After getting an acknowledgment from the dark haired guy, both she and the man who she called John left.

The conversation was so mind boggling, I stopped crying. The blond guy let go of me and walked away. The other one turned me to the side and hunched down behind my back. Brown eyes were looking down at my face, one hand on my rip cage, fingers touching my breasts. I squirmed but his grip was firm, no room for negotiation. He was probably a good 50 to 70 pounds heavier than me, all muscles.

“My name is Tom. This other guy is Jim. I will be your handler while you are here. I advise you, just tune in to the flow; do what we tell you. There is nothing you can change. We try not to hurt you unnecessarily but much is on you to decide.”

I was still thinking about the 'price' and 'treatment' the other man, John, had mentioned and had difficulties absorbing what Tom said. Got the bit about not hurting, but also heard the 'unnecessarily'. Before I could reflect further, the blond fellow came back and placed a gray plastic box behind my head.

Tom took a wide collar from the box and fixed it around my neck. It felt thick and heavy, the cold touch of metal on the inside otherwise it seemed to be made of some synthetic material. After he buckled it, I heard a click, locked.

“I will now take the gag out. Don't speak otherwise this collar will shock you.”

He removed the gag. The second guy was holding a bottle with a nipple to my face. “Drink, it is water.” 

My jaws had been held open for so long I could hardly close my mouth. Tom took this as resistance. “If you do not obey, I can also shock you with this.” He showed me what looked like the remote control of a car. My befuddled mind did not understand what he was taking about but I began to suck on the bottle. I was thirsty.

When I was done, I said, “What...” The electric shock struck immediately, hard. My body jerked. I screamed. The shocks kept coming, one after the other, every five seconds. I kept screaming and they kept shocking me. I do not know whether they finally made it stop but when it did, I was crying silently.

They got a hose and washed me with warm water and soap. Tom used a sponge and was thorough. He asked me to pee and when I did not obey, he shocked me using the remote. They hosed me down once more. Then he shaved me with an electric razor while the second guy was holding me. Tom took it all, first my body hair, then the short brown hair on my head. It was obvious that they did not do this for any benign reason.

Once done, he added a sleek chain with a tag below the shocking device, like a dog collar, pulled an open ring through the two ends and squeezed the ring closed with a pair of pliers. The chain settled snuggly around my neck.

The other guy was standing at one of the benches, writing. “What's her tag number?”  Tom read from the tag on the chain, “EX07-16FEL.”

Tom disconnected my hands from the ankles, and cuffed them behind my back using one pair of the handcuffs then hooked a leash to the chain collar and gave a tug. “Get up.” When I did not obey instantly, he shocked me again. “You should know that your collar is still on low setting. I can increase the intensity of the jolts if you want.” With difficulties, I got to my feet.

Using the leash, he dragged me out into a hallway then to another room with a series of doors along two walls, a bench and a sink on the other. He looked through the window of one of the doors, unlocked it with a key card and took me into a small room with a cage. I was staring down at it, could not believe that he expected me to go inside.

I looked at him. He simply pointed with his chin to the cage then showed me the remote. The blood was roaring in my ears. I saw him pressing the remote, felt the shock. Time stood still. He finally just bundled me up and shoved me inside, removed the leash and handcuffs, then locked the cage.

“As I said, just go with the flow.”

He left.

After a while I sat up, my back against one side of the cage. I established that neither the shocking collar nor the tag chain could be removed. The door of the cage was locked. No surprise. They were thorough. The cage had steel bars and a black rubber mat. Height, length and width less than four feet each, enough to sit and stretch the legs, no possibility to stand and, as I later experienced, just not quite enough for me to stretch out diagonally.

The room was bare, white walls, tiled floor, a drain in one corner, no more than eight by ten feet. There were no windows except for the one in the door. Two spotlights and a camera above the door were focusing on the cage. I immediately turned my back to the camera. I got a shock, then a second one. I turned around. This was no place for modesty.

Tom came back after a while with a bottle and a bowl. He fixed the bottle upside down with the nipple reaching inside the cage. Before he pushed the bowl inside, he said, “When you are fed, you have to finish the bowl within 30 minutes. If you don't, you get shocked until you finish. If you spill any food, you get shocked, several times until you lick it up. If you spill your food outside the cage, you get shocked until I come back. You do not touch your food with your hands; you eat it straight out of the bowl. If you drool, you lick the bowl clean. The water bottle has to be empty within twelve hours. Understood?” I did not give him an answer, was just looking at him. 

He pushed the bowl inside. “I will get you to pee and relieve three times a day. If you do it in the cage, you will be more than sorry. You are 24 hours under observation, and the guys only too keen to press the button which releases a shock from your collar, so better behave. And don't even think about escape.” With that he left.

The bowl contained pellets. I tried one of them. They were fairly tasteless but edible. I was wondering whether I could hold the bowl with my hands while eating. When I tried, it became obvious that I couldn't. So I ate like a dog. I drank water from the bottle. When I attempted to touch it, I got shocked again. Rules were quite simple here and they had an effective way of reminding if you forgot.

I took stock but discovered that there was little to take stock of. I did not know where I was, couldn't believe that a place like this even existed. They treated me like an animal, talked about a treatment and they wanted to sell me. Question was for what. Lab animal? Sex slave? Given that they had talked about my genetics and shaved my hair off, I assumed the first but neither of it was a great career choice. And the woman wanted me on the table the next day. For what? Surgery? What was this outfit?

Questions but no answers. I was crawling around in the cage, trying to find a way out and knew there was none. I couldn't believe that this was happening to me, pulled on the door and the device around my neck until they began shocking me again. I retreated to the furthest corner and hid myself behind my knees and arms. For once, they did not seem to mind.

Tom returned two hours later with the leash and handcuffs. He opened the cage. “Come out.” I had been shocked enough and obeyed. And I needed to pee. As I was crawling out, he connected the leash to the collar. I stood up. “Turn around and put your hands on your back.” I complied, not giving myself much of a chance against this mountain of muscles. He fastened a pair of handcuffs.

“Good girl. Looks like you learn fast.” He took the empty bowl and left it in the front room as we were leaving. Like before, I had to follow the leash. I was afraid to meet other people and that they would see my nakedness. With my hands tied, I could do nothing to cover myself. I noted more cameras and finally just looked down.

He led me along an empty corridor, through two doors, both solid and opened with his key card. As he opened the second door, I discovered that we were not going to the bathroom but outside. I was scared and refused to follow. A sharp jerk on the leash told me otherwise.

It was almost dark and, to my surprise, warm. He pulled me away from the building towards a large garden with a well cut lawn, manicured flower beds, bushes and palm trees. We were quite obviously somewhere in the tropics; Florida, maybe the Caribbean or Mexico.

Nobody else was around. Tom took me along a path covered with sand. I was thinking how humiliating this was, led around naked on a dog collar and with a leash. After about ten minutes, he moved me onto the grass and stopped.

“Have you ever seen how a female dog pees?” Surprised by the question, I slowly nodded. “Do it in the same manner. Get down on your knees, hunch down but do not touch the grass, then pee.” I couldn't believe what I was hearing, was looking around for help, no luck. He took the remote control from the pocket. “Now!”

With a great effort, I got down on my knees. When I wanted to hunch down, he said, “Spread your legs.” I obeyed. “Wider. And keep them parallel.” I tried. “Now hunch and pee!” The blood was up in my cheeks. This was extremely degrading. Even though my bladder was full, I could not do it. He shocked me and I peed.

I was just about to get up when he said, “Shake yourself then wait until I tell you to get up.” He had to shock me twice before I agreed to wiggle my backside. He waited a couple of seconds then ordered me to get up. “Spread your legs.” I did. He looked down. “They are wet. You did not shake yourself well enough.” Another jolt. I was trembling from anger and humiliation.

His eyes were boring into mine until I looked down. “Do you need to relieve yourself?” I shook my head. “Do you usually relieve yourself in the evening?” I shook my head again. “In the morning?” I did not want to answer. He ignored it. “Then be prepared to do so tomorrow morning, otherwise you will be in trouble.” 

He walked me back. Before we entered the building, he used a hose to clean my legs. Tears were burning in my eyes. I did not want him to notice, just kept swallowing. Why were they doing this?

I was returned to the cage. Soon after Tom left, the light dimmed. I curled up on the floor and tried once more to turn my back towards the camera. Big Brother did not like it and released the jolt. I turned around and cried myself to sleep.

I woke up repeatedly. The floor was hard; I was cold and scared of the future. What would they do to me? Hurt me and ultimately kill me? Let me go once they had no more use for me? I doubted it.

I was wondering whether anybody had seen my abduction. Was the police looking for me or were they just assuming that I walked out of my job? If they were looking for me, how would they find me? I did not even know whether I was still in the U.S.

The longer I thought about it, the more desperate I became. Not even Annie, my best friend, would stand up for my disappearance given that she had given me the cold shoulder after Mike talked to her. Who knows what he told her and the others; they may not at all be bothered by my disappearance.

I was thinking about my grandmother, wishing she were alive and setting the police station on fire. But the truth was that she was no longer alive; I was on my own.

Pellets were the first thing in the morning. Half an hour later he came with the leash. Once out of the cage, leashed and standing before him, he simply waited. I got the point, turned around and put my hands behind my back. He cuffed them. “Good girl.”

In the front room, a young woman was waiting on her knees, naked, her leash hanging down to the floor. She was slightly smaller than me, no more than eighteen or twenty, had beautiful black hair reaching down to the small of her back, slim, big breasts, unblemished and almost translucent skin. She wore the tag collar but no shocking device. Her nipples and nose were pierced and ringed, and she had no body hair. I could not see her eyes; she held them down.

Tom took her leash, picked up a short black rubber stick, and took us outside.

As we were walking down the path, I was looking at her. She kept her eyes down, did not even seem to acknowledge that I was there. What did she do to keep her hair? Would they let mine grow back? I was a few years older that she was and felt ugly with my bald head.

Tom ordered her to pee first, me to observe. As she hunched down, I saw something glittering between her legs. Another ring, in her clit, I almost fainted.

She did her business with quite some grace, obviously so used to the drill, it no longer affected her. Then it was my turn. I had now two pairs of eyes watching me which did not make things easier. Hers were dark blue and without any emotion; soulless eyes in a beautiful body. I was scared that they would compel me into a similar state of obedience and acceptance.

As I got down on my knees, I closed my eyes; my heart was pounding. I tried to ignore my surroundings, the leash, the cuffs, my nakedness. I peed, hesitated, a shock. I jiggled my bum and got up when ordered, red with humiliation. This time, no moisture was showing on my legs. “Good girl.” 

He took us down to the beach, right to the water. He ordered her to relieve. She got on her knees where the water was licking at her feet, hunched and succeeded, as easy as that. He looked at me. I vigorously shook my head. No way that I would or could do this. There was nothing in my bowels.

He activated the collar five, six times. I fell down on my knees, refusing to even try. He pulled me to my feet then turned me so my back was towards him. I felt his hand slowly going down my spine. A little bit more than half way down he stopped. Something cold touched my back; my body exploded. I jerked, my legs buckled. I felt like I could no longer breathe, still I screamed, got dizzy. He pulled me up. One more shock and my bowels let go. I understood the role of the black stick. It was a cattle prod.

It was terrible. I messed myself up. He pulled me into the water, unconcerned that he also became wet. Even though the water was warm, my inside was cold. I shivered, felt absolutely depleted of any energy, desperation over my situation spreading to the full extent. He forced me to walk through the water until I was clean.

When we left the water, the other girl was kneeling on the beach, leash hanging down, waiting for us. Tom praised her then took us back to the building. The other handler, Jim, crossed us leading two more girls to their morning walk. I was not interested to even look at them, was crying silently.

In the anteroom to the cages, Tom requested the other girl to kneel. He ordered me to look at her and do the same. I didn't care, just knelt down. “Do you want another shock with the cattle prod?” He jerked on my leash. I shook my head. “Then copy her, Sit straight, eyes down, knees spread, feet flat and together.” He corrected me until he thought I had it right then let the leash drop to the ground. He took the other girl inside her room.

The urge to get up and run was strong. But where would I go? The doors were locked; he had the keycard on a chain hooked to his belt. I was looking around like a caged animal, trying to find a way to escape but when he returned, I straightened my back. I did not want another taste of the cattle prod. “Good girl.” This time he held a white candy in front of my lips. “Take it.” It was glucose. He gave me two more then said, “Stay here and don't move. There are cameras watching you.” He walked out of the door.

I confirmed that there were two cameras in opposite corners of the room. The candies returned some energy, the shivering stopped. I established there was no point of trying to get away, instead looked around. Ten doors. I noticed that six of them had a gray folder stuck in a plastic holder which was attached to the door, mine included. Four plastic holders were empty. Six girls, I thought. It was quiet. A sink and a bench stood next to the wall which had no doors, cupboards below, a pile of bowls and bottles on top, six each; a gurney with open restraints in the corner. I shivered again.

He returned after about twenty minutes; showered and in another set of black jeans and T-shirt. More praise, three more candies. He led me back to the tiled room where they had taken me out of the carrier. Another man was there, not Jim. He was washing a girl. She had her back to me, blond hair.

“That's the new one?” The man came closer, assessing me. He was muscular, dirty blond hair, a mean look. I tried to hide behind Tom. The man roughly grabbed the leash, then the chain on my neck and pulled me towards him. Tom let him proceed. He forced my chin up to see my face, fondled my breasts, put his hands between my legs. I smelled his stale breath. My knee jerked. He saw it and grabbed harder. I did not want to cry but my lips betrayed me.

“They look strange without hair. And her boobs need fixing. I wonder how she will look after the treatment; hopefully not another reject.” He laughed.

“I have to get going, Steve. The Doc wants to see her.” Tom connected my leash to a chain hanging from the ceiling then removed the shocking collar. “Spread your legs.” He brought a bucket with warm soapy water and a sponge, and lathered me up, thorough, few commands, all business. Steve and the other girl left. He was rough with her and I hoped that I would stay with Tom.

I was observing him while he washed me. Given that I was not wearing the shocking device, I asked him, “Why am I here? What will you do to me?”

“I tell you one more time, shut up. One more sound now, today or ever and I will get the cattle prod.”

I knew that he would not answer and wondered why I did not hate him more. He had humiliated and degraded me, and had no qualms to penalize me with a cattle prod. I was a grown and independent woman, yet it seemed this was all business to him, being our handler was his job. It was this or the zoo. I did not see any sexual interest and wondered whether he was gay.

After rinsing and toweling me dry, he brushed my teeth while his fingers pressed into the sides of my jaws. As he was holding my chin, I kept my eyes closed, counting the seconds until it was over. He checked the collar, changed two battery packs and mounted it. I was expecting another shock but he did not use it and I was almost grateful.

Then it was onto the table. When we entered the room and I saw the gynecological examination table, I tried to turn around and get away. He pushed me to the table and lifted me onto it. He knew his job. He held me so my kicks went into empty air, padlocked the neck chain to a ring on the table, buckled my legs into the stirrups, then disconnected the handcuffs and strapped down my arms and hips so I could no longer move. He left.

The room was a fully equipped examination room, wash basin, cupboards, a tray with surgical instruments placed on a trolley, ready to poke into every orifice of my body, two computer-like pieces of equipment pushed to the wall.  I knew it was futile but was still pulling on the restraints until I saw another camera staring down at me and my fully exposed crotch.  There were people on the other side of the camera seeing my sex and my breasts and I could do nothing about it.

Tom and the woman came after about twenty minutes. She terrified me. Somehow I knew she was in command, I here because she had given the order to catch me. She had selected me based on some genetic study. I wondered how she got access to my sample. As she looked at me, every inch of my body, I realized that I was no person to her, rather an object, something that belonged to her, a slave. It was the first time the word entered my mind.

“How is she doing?”

“She is adapting.”

“How many shocks so far?”

“bout twenty.”

'She pees and relieves okay?'

“Still a beginner but she can be trained.”

After mounting a pair of rubber gloves, she checked me over, looked into my eyes, mouth, nose and ears, checked the glands, took my temperature and blood pressure and filled several syringes with blood. She pressed a glass against my crotch. “Pee.” Her eyes were boring into mine. I obeyed, face flushed.

“She has nice teeth, at least something we do not need to correct.”

She was examining and handling my breasts for a long time, pulling on the skin and nipples. It was painful. “They should stretch well enough to make a C, maybe larger. We have to keep her balanced otherwise it will reduce her value.” She looked at Tom. “Sometimes it is so difficult to know what you men want. I guess I will make them larger.” He only smiled and I said good-bye to my A-B sized runner boobs.

She took hold of a syringe with a long thick needle and pushed it horizontally and deep into my right breast. I yelped from the pain and was rewarded by a jolt from the collar. She removed the needle, got another syringe and repeated the process, several times on my right, then on my left. I began to scream. Tom turned the collar off using a small screwdriver. By the time she finished, I was sobbing uncontrollably. She became busy with transferring the content of the needles to small tubes. I felt Tom switching the collar on and tried hard to calm down.

Once she was done with the tubes, she sat down between my legs, her fingers rubbing my clit roughly until it was throbbing. “Not big enough either. Let's start her on injections, full dose every morning and evening as long as it takes. Change her diet at the same time; we do not want her to grow fat on us.”

Tom was writing it in a folder. She pushed her fingers between my labia, forcefully. I suppressed a groan. She pulled one of the computers closer and inserted a probe into my vagina. As the probe went deeper, it was hurting. I tried hard to keep silent. She was watching the screen. The pressure in my abdomen increased, I began to sweat. The movement of the probe stopped. Still she was manipulating. A hot finger seemed to poke on the inside of the abdomen. The sensation was strange and made me sick to the stomach. It seemed to last forever and I was relieved when she finally pulled out.

“Okay all done and plugged. Note on her release form that she needs to be given a final injection when she is handed over to her new owner. We do not want her to get pregnant before her tubes have scared and she is completely sterile.”

The way she was looking at me, I knew that she was saying it for my not Tom's benefit. She loved to hurt others. I tried hard to not give her the pleasure, still tears were gathering in my eyes.

“Can you finish her measures this afternoon?”

“Yes, that should be no problem. When do you want to do the MRI and the surgery?”

“As soon as possible. Functional MRI tomorrow, you depilate her on Friday and I do the standard part of her surgery on Saturday. Then for her gene therapy, let's say Friday in a week's time, that should give enough time to the designers and for the skin on her breasts to settle.”

Then looking at me. “You will love it. We will make one little beauty out of you.” She patted my abdomen. Tears were gushing now. She left the room.

Tom forced me over to another room with medical equipment. An elderly man in a lab coat was reading the newspaper. The man was looking at me. “You must be new. I am Doug. I will take some measures but it will not hurt, so just relax.” He had kind eyes.

First thing was face down onto a fairly wide table, arms stretched out at an angle, feet apart. They immobilized my body and head with plastic cuffs and removed the shocking device. The pain in my tortured breasts increased.

“Don't move.”

A half circle bar was scanning me four times, slowly. Tom turned me around, fixed me and they repeated the exercise while lying on my back. Doug sat behind a computer screen. After a while, Tom asked, “Can we proceed?” Doug nodded.

“Open your mouth.”

Tom inserted a metal clamp between my teeth and slowly let go until my mouth was pulled wide open. A strong wire mesh immobilized my tongue. Doug sprayed something into the back of the mouth. It tasted bitter. A few seconds later, my mouth became numb.

Tom put a thin plastic bag inside my mouth. Doug approached with a spray can. It contained insulating foam. I had used the same brand myself. Once the foam leaves the can, it expands then becomes firm. I began to struggle. He saw my fear. “Don't worry. I just want to make an imprint of your mouth. You will be fine; the plastic will keep you safe.”

He squeezed a little bit into my mouth, waited until it firmed up in the back of my throat, held by the plastic bag. Then he slowly filled my mouth. It was uncomfortable. I had the urge to swallow but could only do so with difficulties. As the foam was expanding, it pressed against the walls of my mouth, filled the cheeks, and came up to my teeth and lips. My jaws were pressed open further. I feared to choke.

“Relax. Breathe through your nose and don't cough. I will leave it inside for an hour to settle completely.” I had no choice.

They sat down at a nearby table and engaged in a card game. Doug came over from time to time and checked on the process. My jaws were sore. When the hour seemed to stretch into an eternity, I began to count in my head.

Finally, Doug said, “Okay that should do.” He held a one-inch metal pipe over my mouth. It looked sharp, small teeth in front. I again began to pull on my restraints.

“Don't worry. I will just take the core out of the mold, so that I can remove the rest. I promise you, I will not hurt you.” He slowly lowered the tube into the hard packed foam, turning it while pressing down. He stopped the moment I felt it touching the back of my mouth and he saw me wincing. He pulled and the pipe came out. “Perfect.” He got a blunt knife and cut the remaining part in three pieces which he was able to pull from behind my teeth. Finally he removed the plastic bag, then the metal clamp.

“You see, I put the four pieces back together and I will have a perfect imprint of your mouth. I told you, I would not hurt you.” Well my jaws did not think so. His eyes were twinkling. Why did they want an imprint of my mouth and how could this friendly guy work in an outfit such as this?

The shocking device went back on. Before Tom got me off the table, he left the room for a few minutes and returned with a syringe. He injected it above my crotch. He obviously did not do it for the first time.

He cuffed and leashed me again. “All done. Time for a pee.”

As we made our way towards the door, Doug called, “Have a nice day.” I swear he said it to me.

It was late afternoon when we left the building. I went through the routine, kept dry and was truly glad when I was getting back into my small room. He ordered me to kneel in front of the cage. I waited for him to return with a short piece of chain and a padlock.

“There is only one way to kneel and it is not they way you do it. Correct your position.”

I tried to remember, spread my knees further and straightened my back. He gave me another shock.

“Look down in front of you, three feet from your crotch. Keep your feet flat, knees spread by no less than one foot. We want to see your parts. Sit on your heels. You have to be able to keep the same position for as long as it takes. You do not move and you do not look around.”

I half expected him to leave me like that for the night. Instead he cuffed my hands in front and linked them with the chain to the collar. I could just bring them down to my naval. He ordered me into the cage then brought my dinner and a fresh bottle of water. Pellets again. They were supposed to be different but tasted just the same. He fixed the bottle then waited until I finished eating.

“You are doing okay. Tomorrow morning, try to relieve yourself. I will not shock you if you fail. I will leave that for the following day but even better if you succeed. The sooner you learn the less trouble for you.” I understood the translation of trouble now. Electric shocks with the cattle prod.

He took the bowl and left. The light dimmed.

I was feeling empty. The day had been like walking from one nightmare into the next. I was now fairly sure that they would change me into one of their beauty templates, with whatever means. They had sterilized me and as it stood I would never be able to have kids. Would it be possible to repair my tubes if I ever got out of here?

Before long I realized why he had handcuffed me. The injection stimulated arousal. Soon I had my legs crossed and tried to find relieve. It didn't work. My vagina was hot, clit throbbing, I couldn't sleep. I got increasingly frustrated, tried to rub my crotch on the metal bars. I got a shock and was swearing at the camera.

I was squirming around for hours and thought that I had just fallen asleep when Tom returned with breakfast. I was looking at him bleary-eyed, my crotch hurting. Overnight, my nipples had become sensitive and were poking out. My labia and breasts were swollen.

He left me to eat. I was close to screaming, wanted to smash the bowl into a corner. I didn't.  When I got out of the cage, he ordered me to “Expose,” then explained, “Lie down on your back, hands above your head, legs spread. Do it.”

Yes, sir. I thought, and did what he said. The tiles were cold. He corrected me again. “Your feet should be one foot apart. Turn them outside and slightly bend your knees. Again, we want to see your parts. If I am in your view, keep your eyes on mine.”

I saw him looking down at my breast and crotch. I blushed.  He left and returned with a syringe. “You are not looking at my eyes.” He shocked me.

He hunched down. I squirmed, my arms moved from above the head. He shocked me again. When I was lying quiet, he waited. I kept looking at his face as hard as it was. He injected me. “Good girl.”

“Good girl.” I hated it. It meant I had given in to them. They had my mind under their control. Why was he not simply silent and left me to my humiliation?

He ordered me to my feet and cuffed and leashed me the usual way, hands behind my back. Outside he made me kneel and got the other girl. Another “Good girl” and we were on our way. I felt like following my clit. It was throbbing, my legs touching the hot swollen labia. Welcome to the league of the fuck toys.

He took us straight to the beach. He had promised that he would not shock me, I was still afraid. The other girl managed to pee and relieve herself in one go. I peed, I tried, I couldn't. I shook my head, looked up at him. He was not happy. “Try again.” After five minutes he gave up.

On our way back, we came across Jim and Steve each with two girls. None of them had a shocking device and all of them had hair. I saw them looking at me and my bald head. Several of them wore halters and I wondered how they deserved that. Definitely their breasts were larger than mine, indeed excessively large.

Tom took us both to the shower. I was to kneel while he was washing the other girl. He shocked me twice, once for looking over to him and not in front of me, the second time for relaxing my back. I was getting desperate.

He gave me first an enema then washed me. After my body and teeth were clean, he brought the girl to her cell then took me through to a room next to Doug's lab. MRI scan, I thought. At least this will not hurt.

Indeed an MRI machine was waiting. I did not oppose when he got me onto the trolley leading into the machine. I knew the procedure from when I tore a ligament but I had no idea what they wanted from it.    

He tied me down with nylon straps, head towards the machine. He fastened several hard plastic braces to immobilize my head except for my lower jaw then removed the shocking device and, using pliers, the collar with the tag.

“Don't talk or do anything else unless asked to, otherwise you will get it back with the cattle prod later.”

As he tied my legs, he kept my feet apart by one foot, knees bent to the side. They want to see my parts, drill it in, I thought.

“When you are in the machine, I will ask you to talk, loud. Do it as anything else will be seen as disobedience with the usual consequences. What nursery rhyme or poem do you know?” I was surprised by his question. “Answer,” he ordered. I told him one. He wanted to hear it. I recounted it. What an absurd situation. 

“Good. Now listen carefully. When I am pressing your right foot, I want you to count from one to as far as you want to go. Stop when I press your right foot again. When I press your left foot, I want you to go through the alphabet. Keep repeating it until I press your left foot again. Do it slowly and loud so I can hear it over the noise of the machine. If I press both feet, then keep repeating the nursery rhyme until I press again. So, right foot is counting, left foot is the alphabet, both feet is the nursery rhyme. Okay?” “Yes.” I just stopped myself from adding, “Sir.”

Then she came. She was looking very pleased, did not say a word, checked the tightness of the restraints, then examined and probed my sore nipples, vagina and clit. Since the second injection, the throbbing had become worse; she could probably take my pulse on my clit. I was sweating.    

“Good. Let's get going.”   

She left, Tom taped my eyes shut. He used several layers until I was completely in the dark. The machine started and I slowly moved inside. For a long time nothing happened. Then I felt him pressing my right foot. I counted up to 321 when I felt him pressing again. Then the left foot. I went several times through the alphabet. Even though I was swearing at myself for complying, I tried to do it slowly and loud. Then it was the right foot again, left foot again. Both feet. I was numbering, going through the alphabet and rhyming for close to two hours. In between the machine was moving me back and forwards and there were long stretches with simply nothing happening.

I was moved out. Tom gave me some water. He tightened the braces around my head.

“I will now put a vibrator into your vagina and turn it on when you are inside. It will slowly bring you to orgasm several times, so just enjoy and don't move. If you want to make noise or scream that's fine, just don't talk.” The whole set-up was not my idea of fun but some release of my accumulated tensions down below did not sound bad.

He slipped an egg-shaped object into my vagina and taped it inside. He added two ear plugs and ear muffles. I could no longer hear anything, it was dark and silent. They moved me back into the machine. Nothing happened for a while then the vibrations began.

The setting of the vibrator was low with irregular interruptions and the buzzing rather annoying. He slowly increased the intensity over time. I tried to squirm but couldn't. As the stimulations increased, the nerve endings between my legs disengaged from the ever-present fear and I got to a rocky orgasm. The second cycle was very much the same, except that he kept me close to the brink for longer.

I was slightly disappointed when the machine rolled me out. Tom gave me more water, then sent me back inside, I was now almost looking forward to it. What a trusting soul I was.

The third cycle kept me on the brink for an eternity. I was so close, couldn't clench, couldn't help myself getting off, I thought I would go crazy. I was panting, moaning, pulling on the ties, finally stated to keen. I feared I would never get release. Then the pain in my clit hit me. My crotch was exploding. A pain like never experienced before in my life. I screamed until I passed out.

I woke up covered in sweat, still fixed to the table, blind and deaf, and apparently still inside the machine. I was crying, my crotch hurt like crazy. I did not know what they had done. Finally, the sting of a needle, the pain reduced and the area went numb. My body was cleaned with a wet cool towel. I felt Tom's warm hands. I stopped crying.

He gave me another injection.  After a few seconds, I began to feel sick to my stomach. After another ten minutes, I was feeling so sick, I was wondering what would happen if I threw up. Again the pin of a needle, the sickness subsided and disappeared. My fear increased. What were they doing? Why was I in this machine?

Something cold touched my belly, the shock of the cattle prod. I screamed, wanted to bend over, couldn't. They repeated it again and again with increasing intensity. I was screaming and crying, desperation now hitting in full force, knowing that the next stun would come within seconds, that I could do nothing about it and that they would continue as long as they wanted.  

When they took me out, I was sobbing. Tom removed the tape on my eyes, the muffles and the plugs. He returned the chain collar. I kept my eyes closed, didn't want to look at him. There was the smell of urine. I did not care. Tom removed the restraints and cuffed my hands in front and to the collar. He lifted me up and carried me outside to the shower area where he washed me while I was lying on the floor and kept my eyes closed. He pushed the nipple of a water bottle between my lips and squeezed water into my mouth. The shocking collar was fastened and he carried me back to the cage.

After a while, I opened my eyes and looked down between my legs. My clit was ringed. They had done it while I was fully aroused, deliberately causing the maximum pain possible. I cried until I had no more tears. I was thinking that they would take me to surgery soon. There was nothing that could stop them. They could do whatever they wanted. I could not stop them, nor the pain, nor whatever they had in mind for me.

Tom came back several hours later with the leash. The effect of the painkiller had worn off and my crotch was in flames. I sat in the back of the cage, did not want to get out. He showed me a syringe. The liquid was yellowish, not white as the one with the hormones.

“We go to pee and you get another painkiller. If you stall for more than another five seconds, we go to pee and you do not get another painkiller. Out! Now!”

I crawled out and went with him for the usual routine. My legs felt like rubber and I kept them apart. He did not take the other girl. 

“If you think about resisting, just forget it. We have means that go beyond your imagination to make you comply. We have seen it all from other girls that are much stronger than you and all of them have given in. So, go with the flow and don't make it harder for yourself than it needs to be.”

I peed. It hurt terribly and I got wet. He gave me a shock. The intensity on the collar had gone up, no pity or reprieve. I cried as we were walking back.

In my room he moved my hands to the front, then ordered me to expose. I complied, laid down, hands above my head, legs spread, knees bent, eyes on his face. I wanted the pain killer. He injected me above my crotch then gave me a second injection in my thigh. He cleaned the piercing with disinfectant and it stung like hell.

He gave me the bowl with the pellets, came and picked it up half an hour later. The light was dimmed. I hadn't slept much the previous night and fell asleep immediately. I woke up later in the night, no idea of time. My crotch was hurting. I turned on my back, legs apart and knees pulled up, no longer concerned that the camera saw it all.

I was wondering why they had done the day in the MRI machine, the counting, the endless pain, everything. Why did they want to know the shape of my mouth? To effectively gag me?

I was a good girl in the morning up to the minute I was supposed to relieve myself. I couldn't. It was a beautiful morning, the sun bright, the air crisp but it all went passed me as he walked behind me, held me on my collar and shocked me once. He did not need to count the spines anymore, he knew the spot. He waited then gave me two more shocks. My bowels emptied and with it some more of the little hope that was telling me that this was all just a bad dream. He dragged me into the water to clean my legs but this time he gave me the glucose tablets right after we left the water. The tablets maybe helped to restore my energy levels but they did nothing to remove the darkness in my soul.

After the shower and injections with painkiller and hormones, Tom and Jim spread-eagled me in a small room next to the shower area. It was all tiled and empty except for eyebolts in the ceiling and the floor. After spreading my limbs to the extreme and removing the collars, they taped my eyes shut, then wrapped bandages around my limbs, body and head. They pushed plastic tubes into my mouth and nose, before tightening the bandages around my head, so I was able to breathe. The bandages were soaked with a liquid and then they seemed to apply a second layer. Being mummified is scary but by now my world was already overtaken so much by fear, it could no longer increase. I simply realized it happening to me, and also knew that they had no benefit if I died on them.

They increased the temperature in the room and I began to sweat. I was given water at regular intervals through the tube in my mouth but still I became lightheaded and, as time went on, desperate to get the procedure over with. Depilation, she had said. I assumed it was permanent. Would they give me new hair with the genetics treatment? But how?  

Ultimately, it was mid afternoon when they peeled me out of the cocoon. I collapsed like a rag doll. They were wearing protective gear, apparently not wanting to get in touch with the substance, and it just confirmed the process to be permanent. Except for my eyelashes, my body had not a single hair anymore.

I was given some glucose tablets and more water then asked to pee in the shower area. I was washed several times, the piercing was cleaned with disinfectant and I was brought back to the cage. No pellets in the evening, just water and two more injections with painkiller and hormones. Before they dimmed the light, Tom removed the bottle; I was supposed to go to surgery the next day.

I was awake long before he got me, hungry and crotch hurting, knowing it was the day when my breasts were put into new glory. I had no idea what more they would do. The other girls had piercings in their nose and nipples, but they also had hair. Why did they make the MRI scan?

When he came, fear was nailing me to the back of the cage. He pulled me out using my ankle. It was the closest of my kicking limbs that he could grab. “You want your leash on the collar or your clit? Decide fast.”   

Yes, they had seen it all. He had my compliance on the spot. After the shower, we went straight to a room next to the theater. He ordered me to lie down on a gurney then gave me an injection in the arm. I passed out within seconds.

I woke up lying on my back on a thin foam mattress. I was spread-eagled, my hands and feet tied loosely with thin chains connected to leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles. I could move my limbs, but not enough to get to my body or head.

I could not see. My head was wrapped in bandages. I had a breathing tube in my throat but no machine connected to it, the rest of my mouth was stuffed with cloth. The roof of the mouth was hurting, a tube in my nose, a needle in the arm. As expected my breasts felt stuffed, the skin stretched. My clit was hurting, a tube in my urethra, something else in my anus. 

They kept me like this for three or four days, at least that was what I assumed, I had no idea of time. I received countless injections, most of them into my breasts. Even though I was mostly kept under, I felt like my breasts were growing by the day, throbbing and stretching the skin. The finally applied a halter and the pressure on the skin became less.

Except for them being the reason for my ordeal, they treated me decently, were careful when they moved me to clean me or apply an enema. I didn't wear the shocking device but the breathing tube was effective in keeping me gagged.

When they were finally ready to remove the bandages, they put me on a gurney. My wrists and ankles were tied to the side and lower corners, respectively, and I was wheeled around a couple of corners before the wrappings came off. After adjusting to the light, I saw that I was in the same room where she had sterilized me. Tom, the woman and John, the man that I had seen just after my arrival, were looking down at me.

She examined my head while Tom was holding it. She pressed at several places and I winced from the pain. Afterwards, Tom lodged a ring gag behind my teeth and secured it with a strap. He removed the wet stuffing in my mouth and held my head while she was looking inside my mouth. She pushed a gloved finger above the breathing tube towards the roof of my mouth. I did not feel the finger but it hurt nevertheless. The more she pressed and wiggled, the more it hurt. I tried to feel with my tongue but was blocked by the breathing tube.

“Perfect seal, no movement. You can remove her breathing tube.”

Tom pulled it out. I gagged and coughed. He also removed the ring gag. I tried to close my jaws and probed with my tongue to the roof of my mouth. A rough plastic surface was stopping the probing. Instead of the roof of the mouth going up behind the teeth, the plastic surface was closing off the top part of my mouth. As she said, it did not move, just hurt when I was pushing against it. I couldn't roll back my tongue far enough to feel where the plastic ended, but the plastic did not stimulate a gag reflex either.

“So, how do you feel?” Her question was directed towards me, I could not believe my ears. I looked at Tom. He said, “Answer her.” Three pairs of eyes were looking at me, expectantly.

I wanted to say something, couldn't. I knew there were words but I could not find them. I was getting desperate, looking from one to the next, no answer. I opened my mouth. The woman reached between my legs. She pulled on the clit ring. I screamed. “Answer me!”

I was absolutely desperate, trying to say something, began to struggle then cry. They lost interest in my answer, instead looked down to my breasts which were stuffed into a black nylon halter. Tom removed it.

They were huge, like melons. What I thought had been padding in the halter was all breasts. Tears were blinding me. I felt her probing around, pulling on my nipples. I screamed, wanted to shout at her to stop but could not find the connection to my vocal cords.

“So, you can scream, but you cannot talk, that's good.” She was looking at me. Through my tear-stricken view, I saw again the joy over my pain reflected in her eyes.

“The pressure is quite high but I like the way the halter has molded them. If we only could use this same procedure for legal breast augmentations, the Corporation's shares would go up like crazy. Given the troubles breast implants give, I am surprised that they do not approve this approach with cell cultures, probably because it is too close to what entails cancerous growth.”

Again I thought she was saying it just for my benefit. 

“Keep her in her halter for another two weeks, so we are sure they remain formed nicely.’

The other man's eyes were glued to my breasts. She clicked her fingers in front of his eyes. ‘You like them?’  ‘Definitely.’

‘Well I can make them bigger with a few more injections. What do you think?” John was looking back at her. “No, I think they are just perfect.” She laughed then proceeded to my vagina. Fingers probing. “Looks like you are growing.” I lifted my head but could not see anything due to my obscenely enlarged breasts. I felt her fingers moving towards my clit and the ring. I wanted to shout no. I knew that I wanted to say 'no' but couldn't do it.

“Get her back to her cage. Her muzzle is over there. And keep her pellets wet, the usual drill.”  She and John left.

Tom mounted the halter. It closed between my breasts with a small lock, two straps running over my shoulders. The halter was tight and its firmness helped to ease the pressure.

He removed the feeding tube, got me into a sitting position and handcuffed my hands behind my back then removed the nylon straps from my ankles.

“Let your legs hang down.” I obeyed. The blood was leaving my head. I was close to fainting, sweat dripping down from my arm pits. He moved my legs back up onto the gurney but kept me in a sitting position. When I recovered, he tried again. After a couple of attempts, I was able to stand on wobbly legs. He picked a metallic object from the lab bench then slowly walked me to the shower area. I was ordered to pee.

After washing me and treating the piercing, he brought a bowl with pellets and added water. He stirred it with his fingers until the pellets had turned to a soft mash and asked me to eat. I wanted to refuse. He did not hesitate and tugged on my clit ring. He held the bowl while I was licking the stuff. It tasted worse than when it was dry.

I tried to speak again, couldn't. I looked at Tom for an explanation but got none. He cleaned my teeth and wiped down my face.

The metallic device turned out to be a muzzle. “Open your mouth.” He pushed a plastic bit between my teeth and above my tongue. The teeth closed down into two groves and were aligned between two half circles. A plate between the half circles filled the space between the tongue and the plastic thing in the roof of my mouth. As it lodged behind my teeth, I could just slightly wiggle my tongue, but not bend it or press upwards to the roof of my mouth. The bit was maybe a third of an inch think and had several holes leading from between my teeth to the back of the mouth. I was able to breathe or, as I later realized, use them to suck in water.

He pushed the muzzle over my chin and mouth. It was made of a hard metal sheet and contained several small holes. It molded perfectly onto the lower part of my face, covering it from below my nose to the neck. He fastened it with straps. Two of them went up next to my nose, joined above and went over my head leading down to the nape, two others went around the back of my head, another one to the nape; they looped through the first strap and locked back into the muzzle. Once it was all secured, I could not open my jaws by more than a tiny bit. I was getting closer to an animal by the day.

He took me to the cage and cuffed my hands to the collar so I could not get to the crotch. Once he was gone, I explored the muzzle but there was no way to remove it or even get a finger behind it. The holes in the muzzle were big enough for my lips to suck water from the bottle. I squeezed my pinkie inside until it was stopped by the half circle plastic bit in front of my teeth. The holes were not aligned which was no problem when sucking in water but stopped any interference from my fingers.

I spent the rest of the day sitting in the cage, trying to find one single word to utter. I could grunt, scream, cry, howl and moan but I could not talk. I remembered the MRI scan and how they made me talk. It had something to do with it but I did not understand what they had done.

He got me for the evening pee then removed the muzzle to feed me more mash. When he wanted to put the bit and the muzzle back, I turned my head away. He said, “You can't change it.” He held the bit in front of my lips and I finally took it. To comply was worse than if he had stunned me. He fastened the muzzle, gave me the injection into the crotch and cleaned the piercing while lying on my back. Time to sleep.

The next day, he took me with his other charge and one of Jim's girls to pee and relieve. Even though I could no longer talk, he still returned the shocking collar before we left. The two other girls were looking at my bald head, muzzle, mammoth boobs and clit ring, and I was ready to disappear into the ground. Even worse, Steve caught up with us, with three more girls.

“Hey, here is our little animal. Did they give you some proper boobs?’ He taunted me, laughed. ‘I hope, the rest of the improvements will work out similarly well, otherwise I may get you for myself.’ He tried to grab my butt from behind. I pulled to the front as far as the leash would permit.

He laughed again, let me go. He seemed in a hurry and was heading straight down to the beach. I was glad when Tom took us onto the grass to pee. I watched Steve walking towards the beach and missed Tom's command. The other girls were already kneeling, I was still standing. I got a shock. He ordered me to pee first and I did. When I was done, I saw him looking at me and I almost thought there was concern in his face. Then, he was just his old self again, no emotion, all business. He told me to get up and kneel on the side. I obeyed, hoping that I would get it right for once.

The other girls contributed their part to irrigating the lawn and we proceeded to the beach. My abdomen felt bloated but I doubted that I would be able to do what he wanted. I got scared the closer we got to the beach.  He let the other two go first. They succeeded. My turn. I couldn't. I was looking up at him; saw the cattle prod which he had stuck through the loops of his jeans.

To my surprise he said, “Stay on your knees and keep trying.” He let my leash drop to the ground. He walked along the beach with the other girls. Steve had long gone back. After a while, I saw the other girls getting down on their knees crawling at Tom's side. He was at least 100 yards away from me. What should I do? Run? I wouldn't go far with my hands tied behind my back. Also, this was obviously private property, probably fenced somewhere. And who knows where we were. Still on the main land, somewhere in Florida? Or on a private island in the Caribbean? I had no idea.

I was looking at the sea. How fast could I drown myself? I saw him coming back and that took that part of my decision. Then I felt the urge and gave in to it. I had never been so happy about being able to poo. He walked up, the two girls still crawling. I was standing next to my success.  He smiled at me. “You see?”  I was glad he did not see my smile behind the muzzle, or did he? I blushed. 

“Look at them then do the same. Crawl.” He took hold of my leash and removed the handcuffs. I almost didn't mind to get down on my hand and knees and join the animal club. He corrected my stride. Hands to the front, back straight, chin high. When I did not get it right for the third time, he shocked me. He had my attention. The sun was getting up high and, after returning the cuffs as we were down on our knees, he finally let us walk normally when we were half way back across the lawn. Before we went inside the building, he washed our hands and legs, then took us through to the shower room.      

Waiting for him to finish with the other two girls, I was wondering whether it was usual that they were changing handlers. Maybe it was Jim's day off. I was scared that I would end up in Steve's hands sooner or later. Indeed, my whole life could result in me belonging to somebody like Steve if they indeed sold me.

A shock brought me back to the current reality. “Straighten your back.” Tom was shouting. I sighed. While trying to keep my position, I worked on the mystery of talking. I knew all the words but I did not know anymore how to express them. My vocal cords were still there, they were simply no longer connected to my brain, or my brain did not know how to give the command. They seemed to have it done to all girls with no shocking device.

Another shock. “You are not listening, girl.” Tom stood before me, the other girls waiting behind him. I got up and went with him to the cages. He put the other two inside, then said to me, “You have to learn to focus and obey.”

He led me to an almost empty room which had a mirror covering one entire wall. A mattress was lying in a corner. He took me to the wall opposite from the mirror. “Kneel, face the mirror. But remember that you are supposed to look at a spot three feet from your crotch.” He had me in a predicament. I wanted to look into the mirror, see my baldness, check out the muzzle, my new boobs and I couldn't. I had to look down, sit still on a hardwood floor.

He was observing me closely, shocked me twice, when my eyes strayed. He moved to my side, until I could no longer see him. I heard him moving the mattress and sitting down. “I will increase the intensity.”

As time went on, the urge to look at the mirror or him decreased. My world reduced to the spot in front of me, the weight and pain from my breasts, my sore knees, the tingling in my legs, the throbbing of my clit, the feel of the swollen and hot labia between my legs, and my back that I was supposed to keep straight. My legs trembled. Still he kept me there. I thought I could not last to the next second. He uncuffed my hands.

“Expose.”  I went down onto my back. He walked into my vision and I kept my eyes on his face. He knelt down. “I will touch you. You will not move or squirm. You are in position.” He put his hands between my legs, touched my labia. It took me all effort not to move away. His fingers went inside. He shocked me. I yelped and was immediately covered in sweat. “You did not look at me. Try again.” 

His hands went back to my crotch. I was looking at him. Again, it was all business. He put several fingers inside me, stroked my inner lips. I was getting desperate from holding still. He finally stopped. “Good girl.”

“Kneel.” Back on my legs, focus on the spot. I was getting tired, my legs shaking almost uncontrollably.

“Expose.”

“Kneel.”

“Expose.”

He let me rest. My face was looking at the wall opposite to the mirror. He pointed out that a camera was watching me then left the room to get a water bottle. He put several glucose tablets inside before he gave it to me.

After a while it was, “Crawl.”

He led me parallel to the mirror and was turning me so that I could not see the mirror. He corrected me several times, until I made several turns with no mistakes. He taught me how to “Present,” standing on knees and hands, back straight, chin up, wrists straight, arms and legs parallel, toes down.

“Kneel. Face the wall opposite to the mirror.”

“Pose.” I thought he was saying “Expose.” As I wanted to lie down, he grabbed me by my wrist, pulled me up 'til I was standing on my knees. “Spread your legs, feet together, push out your hips, arch your back, lock hands behind your neck.” I knew from somewhere that this was called the slave position, still abided by what he asked me to do. He walked around me, pushed my knees further apart, pulled my elbows back, pressed into the small of my back then positioned my feet that they were vertical to the floor, toes pulled forward, touching each other. “Look at my eyes.” I was following him with me eyes.

“Kneel.”

He shocked me when I did not cross my wrists on my back. I was looking at him angry. How should I know? He shocked me again.

“Pose.”

I was scared that I would not get it right. He corrected me with his hands and feet, walking around, me following him with my eyes, whenever he came into my vision.

“Kneel.” He locked my hands, picked up my leash then took me to the bathroom where he ordered me to pee into the drain. “When you do this inside, do it slowly, no splashes on your legs.” I complied and managed to stay clean. He requested me to crawl back to the cage. We came across Jim with his two girls. It took me all effort to keep moving, my chin up, eyes straight. It got me another praise. I sighed.

He left me in the cage in the usual way, hands tied in front and to the collar. I spent the afternoon dozing. He got me for the evening pee. When he removed the muzzle to feed me, he checked my skin for irritations then asked me to lick the mash from the bowl which he had placed in the middle of the floor. The bowl was sliding on the tile floor as I began to eat. I had to crawl after it and pin it to the wall until I was able to finish the food. I knew he has smiling over my efforts. I was just about to sit back, when I remembered to lick it clean.

“Expose.”

He gave me the injection, cleaned the piercing then touched my labia and pushed his fingers inside. I held still, looking at him. He looked back at me, his eyes dark. I suddenly realized that there was more than fear connecting me to him. I felt his commitment to my training, I wanted his approval, accepted that he punished me. I realized I was adapting and it scared me.

The next day did not start out well. I was not able to relieve myself and got the full shock treatment. After the shower, I spent the morning in the cage. I was not cuffed and explored my massive boobs which were hurting. They were still stuck in the halter but felt very firm and I doubted that they would sag once the halter was removed.

Sex toy, I thought. They would sell me as a sex toy. Somebody would handle my breasts and that somebody would want more. I touched the clit ring. Big Brother was alert and the collar shocked immediately. I withdrew my hand. Tomorrow I would go to the genetics treatment. What would they do? They had said that the treatment had failed with others, so maybe it was not just about getting hair. I was afraid and restless but there was nothing I could do but wait.  

Around lunchtime, Tom appeared with the leash and the cuffs. We went to her examination room and he got me on the table, feet in the stirrups. He removed the muzzle and inserted the mouth clamp they had used while making the foam imprint.

She checked my vagina and clit. I tried to get away, squirmed. She tugged on the clit ring faster than I could think. I groaned. “Tom, you have to train her to comply when she is being handled, you are too soft on her. Management decided that she should be auctioned off in three weeks with the other five, provided everything goes well.”

“That is too soon.”

“The Corporation wants it, we do. Based on the genetics tests, they alerted several important clients that we may have an unusual specimen on the block. They want to test the market and invest much more in this line of research if she gets a good price.”

“Three weeks is not enough to get her conditioned.”

“Well it is either that, or I give her to Steve. As I know him, he will have her in shape in no time.”

“Or dead.” He was almost shouting.

“That's why I leave her with you. After the surgery tomorrow, I give you two weeks then judge. If her behavior is below standard, I pass her to Steve for polishing up. There is no way that her behavior is allowed to reduce her value. Pass your other charge to Jim, so you can focus on this one.”

She removed the rough plastic piece from inside my mouth and replaced it with a small black box shaped to the roof of my mouth. I saw metal contacts glittering as she was inserting it. It clicked into place; apparently there was still a receptacle in my mouth.

“Where is the remote?” Tom asked.

The woman pulled it out of her pocket. “Let's see whether this works.”

She pressed a button. I got a severe jolt in my stomach, screamed.

“Perfect.”

After removing the mouth clamp, she took hold of my chin, forcing me to look at her through tear-stricken eyes. “I warn you. The receiver in your mouth is sitting in a holder which is fixed to the skull and connected to your brain. If you or anybody else tampers with the holder, tries to remove it, you will die. So, keep you tongue under control.”

Then to Tom, “Clean her up then bring her back to get her into the suit.”

In the shower area, Tom ordered me to pee and, after removing the cuffs, to present. He removed the halter, my breasts were hanging down and I looked at them. The shock hit immediately. I screamed.

“Chin up, damn you.” He was clearly annoyed.

“You heard her. It's time for you to finally assemble some discipline in your head. You are here to comply and obey. Anything else just yields you a shock into your stomach. It's done through your brain. I press the button, you feel the cattle prod.”

He pushed me chin up then soaped me up with peeling cream until I was glowing like a traffic light. He applied an enema, cleaned my teeth then washed me down. I did not oppose and with my chin high up in the air, I felt like a like a dog being prepared for a dog show.

But it really only sunk in when he got the gurney. This was it, off to get my genetics irreversibly changed and become either a monster or a prime auction piece. At that stage it all became too much, the receiver in my mouth, my obscenely enlarged boobs, her threats to hand me over to Steve, their overwhelming control, now to have to comply to go to the treatment, I curled up into a fetal position, arms covering my eyes. I was ready for the shocks to hit.

No shock. He watched me for several seconds then lifted me onto the gurney where he fastened my wrists and feet with nylon straps. I felt like a death row prisoner before the execution. He wheeled me to her room. I kept my head turned to the side, eyes closed, face hot with tears. I did not want them to see.

She was already waiting. Without a word, she took a thin plastic tube and inserted it into my urethra. I winced. She did not care, pushed it inside quickly. A clamp closed the tube off.

“Hold her head.” A second tube went into my nose and down into the stomach. I hurt terribly and I tasted blood. Then she got a breathing tube.

“Open your mouth.”

I refused. She nodded to Tom.

The shock hit my stomach. I screamed.

“Again.”

“Again, next intensity.”

After the third shock, my mouth was open and I was screaming and crying. I now knew why all the girls were so obedient.

I was gagging when she inserted the tube and she asked Tom to give me another shock for that. Afterwards, she fastened small clamps around my upper and lower teeth which were secured with screws until I felt an uncomfortable pressure on my teeth. I was shivering and still crying but gave her no more problems. Two metal rods were fastened between opposite clamps, keeping my mouth open by about one inch, immobilized.   

“Bend her over.” She gave me an epidural into the spine just below my neck; within seconds I became paralyzed and except for my eyes could no longer move any body part. As my breathing stopped, they connected me to the artificial respirator.

I was encased in a tight suit. It looked like a wet suit used by divers, but was transparent and contained a strange pattern. It covered the body and head and instead of a zipper was sealed closed with a special instrument. They asked me to close my eyes before they pulled the hood over my head. Where I had still some feeling in my face, I felt the hood pressing down like a very tight rubber mask, no smell. The complete isolation was scary.

They wheeled me away to a place not far from her room. A steel door closed. I was alone. It was quiet, only the rattling of the respirator. As usual, they liked to keep me in the dark. I had no idea whether the treatment had started, this suit was it. I doubted it as she had always referred to the next day as the day of the treatment.

She, John and Tom came back later. I recognized their voices. The hood was too tight to open my eyes and I couldn't feel anything below my neck.

“This suit is much tighter.”

“Yes we learn. There were too many distortion of the pattern on the previous attempts. Even when we turn her around, it will stay in its exact position.”

“How many layers are there?”

“Ten.”

“So you have to go over her ten times. Can you do that in one day?”

“The main lab developed a different method to apply the vector. It is much faster. We will start early morning and I assume we will be done within eight hours. This should give us enough time to also do her vagina, nipples, mouth and eyes.”

“I can't wait to see the result.”  Neither could I.

The tube in my nose moved, they left. I don't know whether I slept or thought I slept. My head was in chaos, fear and dreams mixing. I heard somebody coming back and wheeling me to the theater. Then I blanked out.

I was on the mattress, spread-eagled again. The suit and breathing tube were gone. I was able to move as far as the restraints allowed but had a blindfold over my eyes, and tubes in my nose and urethra. My anus was plugged. My skin felt swollen, everywhere, including inside my lower lips and mouth. My nipples were throbbing, sand in my eyes. There was not much pain, simply extreme discomfort and I knew they had done the procedure. Desperation hit. I began to cry.

“Shhh. It's okay. It's all over, by tomorrow the irritation will have gone.” It was Tom. He washed me with a wet warm towel. I yearned for and leaned towards his touch, I felt utterly alone. He stood up and left. I heard the steel door closing. I screamed. He finally came back and gave me an injection, waited until I became drowsy.

When I woke up the next time, I was in my cage, yet in a different room. This one had a solid steel door. Tiled floor, white walls, slightly larger than where I had been before. Several spot lights onto the cage, two cameras in the two corners above the door. I was muzzled, wore the halter and tag chain but was not restrained.

My skin and mouth still tingled. I looked at my body. It was just the same. Hairless and huge breasts but otherwise normal, my nipples, vagina and clit throbbing as usual. My hand moved to the crotch. I got a shock into the stomach. I was immediately covered in sweat. 

A water bottle was hanging outside the cage. I was thirsty and slipped the nipple through the muzzle and between my lips. I was relieved, the treatment had failed.

Tom came about half an hour later, the leash, handcuffs and a bowl of pellets in his hands. I almost smiled at him. He opened the cage door.

“Come on out.” His voice was warm. I crawled out. He connected the leash then removed the muzzle and bit. My tongue probed for the plastic cover of the receiver. He saw it. “Learn to leave it alone. You remember what she said. Now eat.” He pointed to the pellets. They were dry again. I ate them slowly, not used to the thing in my mouth. He disconnected the bottle from the cage and held it so I could drink. When I was done he said, “Good girl.”

He took the leash and ordered me to crawl. The room led into a slightly bigger room, tiled and with shower hoses. The steel door leaving my room and leading into the shower room was opened by a key card and his thumb print applied to a scanner. If I wanted to escape, I would now not only need to steal his card but also cut off his thumb.

He ordered me to 'present', removed the halter and washed me. He made me crawl through another steel door into a corridor which exited close to the examination room. This second door was unlocked in the same manner, key card and finger print scan.

She and John were waiting. Tom lifted me onto an examination table, keeping me on my four limbs. “Present.”

Her hand was moving across my entire body, touching me only lightly. I shivered but held the position. She looked in my eyes then ordered me to open the mouth. She asked me to expose. I turned on my back, assumed the position and she spread my labia. I was glad she did not touch me inside.

“Nothing?” John asked.

“It's only just crossing the 48 hours. I assume we will see something by tomorrow.” Her comment did not make me happy. Still I was hoping that she was wrong.

“Can I take her outside?”

“Yes, with added security.”

Tom returned the halter, got me off the table, cuffed my hands behind my back and muzzled me. Outside a guy in fatigues and with a gun was waiting. I immediately tried to hide my nudeness behind Tom. He did not approve, pulled me to the other side. I had to walk in full view of the guard and he was following us. It was already close to noon and nobody else was around. I peed, four eyes staring at me. Tom asked me to crawl to the beach. I was embarrassed and knew I would not be able to relieve myself in front of this other guy. Nor was there anything in my bowels anyway.

I didn't relieve myself and, even though Tom was carrying the cattle prod, I didn't get shocked into my back. He gave me a 24-hour grace period. Back in the building, we went to the room with the mirror. He worked on my positions and had his hands on my private parts for the entire afternoon. He handled my breasts and labia, often rough and did not hesitate to shock me into the stomach when I cringed.

One would expect that the effects of the shocks got less over time as my body got used to them. It was not the case. Every shock doubled me over and I began to look for his hand that held the remote. It only yielded me another shock. By the time he was done, I was trembling like a leaf, crying and did not dare to move my eyes one iota from where they were supposed to be.

He returned me to my new quarters, fed me, cleaned the piercing and injected the hormones. I hit the rubber mat the moment I was inside the cage.

When I woke up in the morning, the pattern had appeared. My arms and legs had dark spots turning to rings on the outside of the thighs, butt cheeks and as far as I could see to the back. Some of my skin was more tanned. The pattern was uneven and faint. Tom immediately got her and took me out of the cage. She phoned John. “It is working.” The older man came.

The more excited they got, the more desperate I became, finally began to cry. Tom put a blindfold over my eyes and locked it with several straps. They removed the muzzle and halter. She asked that the light be turned off. She spread my labia, touched my nipples then asked me to stretch out my tongue. Finally, she removed the blindfold and ordered me to look at her. The room was absolutely dark. I heard John gasping. “It is working.” The room was dark and still I got the impression that there was light shining into my eyes. Like a fog around my eyes.

She asked Tom to put the blindfold back. The fog stayed.

“Give me the remote.” I was scared, expecting a shock. Instead I became aroused. Tom ordered me to pose. She kept my labia spread, the arousal became so strong, I began to moan and the sexual moves from my hips became uncontrollable. As I realized that she did all this through the press of a button, I no longer tried to keep myself upright. She requested Tom to hold me up by the collar.

“Open your mouth and show your tongue.” A shock to my stomach and I obeyed.

“It is working indeed.”

“But it is uneven.”

“Too early to say, let's see how it develops, otherwise we have to do some touching up.” Then to Tom, “I want to examine her twice a day, morning and evening. Don't go outside until she has fully developed and Corporate Management has seen her. Use the exercise rooms, and otherwise keep her caged. And keep her blindfold on. I am sick of having to listen to her crying.”

The arousal subsided. She and John left. Tom got the bowl with the food. I was shivering and refused to eat.

“You can't change anything. You eat or otherwise you get it worse.”

It was one of the many times when I could not comprehend how to proceed living anymore and yet my life was stretching out like a long narrow hallway from which there was no escape. There were no windows, no air to breathe, just darkness and despair. Still I ate.

He took me to the shower, crawling. When ordered, I hunched down to pee and all at once felt the urge to relieve. He praised me, cleaned me up then asked me to open my mouth. He removed the receiver only to replace it with an exact duplicate. Battery change, I thought.

Afterwards he took me to the room with the mirror where he worked on my positions for the whole morning, touching me everywhere. Later he got me to a normal workout area. As he moved me from cross trainer to bicycle and weights, it reminded me of my gym, my other life. I tried to calculate how long since my capture but could not figure it out, too long.  

More water, peeing in the shower, then back to the cage, all crawling. He woke me up when it was time to crawl to the exam. Peeing was first.

This time she requested Tom to shackle me to two bars, neck and wrists to one, feet to a second. Stiff and wide steel manacles. I was standing, stretched taunt, hands half a foot from my head. The clamp went into my mouth, bar the mesh wire, so my mouth was held open but I could move the tongue. She inserted a clamp into my vagina, spreading it open. It hurt, I groaned but was stretched too taunt between the two bars to be able to oppose. She examined every inch of my body. I felt an instrument touching. Tom removed the blindfold. A light was shining into my eyes. I could not bend my head, had to look strait forward.

Then the arousal began and she turned the light off. The pain from the clamp in my vagina increased as my body jerked to clench. I pulled on the manacles, more pain, more arousal, frustration, pain, more arousal, no orgasm. My moans turned to screams. Finally, the blindfold was put back on and the arousal went. I was a sex machine controlled by a remote. My neck, wrists and ankles hurt from the manacles. As they got me out, my legs were buckling under me.

Crawl back, pellets, injection, disinfectant onto the clit, cage. The blindfold remained and was too well secured for me to pull off.

I was kept like this for the next three days. Two exams every day. Crawl! Training in the mirror room, gym, shower. Crawl! Pellets, the nipple of the water bottle, pee, relieve, soap, disinfectant and hose down. Crawl! Sleep, cage, shocks. Crawl! Leashed, muzzled, haltered, cuffed, handled, ordered, punished, praised. Crawl!

Isolated and blindfolded, I adapted, often was even too tired to think, my head empty, just waiting for the next command, obeying, trying to do better, prevent the shocks, get a praise from Tom, get a human touch, please him.

It was three days later on our way to the mirror room. We came across Steve. I heard him shouting at a girl. We turned a corner and stood before them. I was as usual on my hands and knees, blindfolded and following the tug of the leash. She screamed.

“Stupid bitch.” I heard her falling to the floor as she was shocked. More screams.

Tom shouted at Steve, “Stop her collar. Don't you see that she is hysterical? She probably thinks that we will do the same to her.”

Steve laughed. “That would be nice.”  Finally the screaming stopped. She was just crying. I realized I was trembling. Tom tugged on my leash. I did not obey. He took my arm, and pulled me forward towards our destination.

Steve shouted, “You have to train her better, otherwise she will be mine and you can deal with the new one here.”

When Tom dragged me inside the mirror room, I began to pull on the blindfold, ignoring the shocks. I wanted to see what was so terrible about me that it made others scream. Tom immediately cuffed my hands behind my back. I collapsed on my side, trembling, crying, refusing to be any longer a part in this horrific play.

“Shhhh. Listen to me.” I shook my head, not wanting to listen to him. He pulled me in his lap. “Listen to me. You are absolutely beautiful.” He rocked me, stroke me, repeating again and again, “You are beautiful.” 

Finally I was just laying there, my mind numb. Even if I was beautiful, for what and for whom? To be sold to the highest bidder, never able to choose my own partner in life, never able to determine what I wanted to make out of my life? I was property, an animal, very likely on my way to become a sex slave.

After a while he said, “It's time to get to work.” And when I did not respond, “I do not want that you get passed over to Steve but it is a real possibility if you don’t work harder.” I knew that he was serious, not using it as an empty threat. So, I got up, lead in my limbs. He removed the handcuffs. After half an hour, I was over the worst, and my performance improved. He kept praising me then got Jim and handed him my leash.

Tom was still in the room but Jim was now in charge. He ordered me through the positions. He worked me hard, not hesitating to give me an additional shock to the stomach when he thought I could do better. Then he removed the halter, grabbed my nipples. His fingers went to my vagina. I was paralyzed. I knew that I was not supposed to move, object, or otherwise I would get it worse from Steve. He kept on it for a long time, finally praised me.

Tom left. I wanted to scream. I did not know whether this was it, I now with Jim. With several shocks, Jim got my attention then kept working with me. He was less patient than Tom, his hands rough, few other words than the commands. He did not hesitate to leave me in a position for half an hour or more, until my muscles were screaming for release. Finally he ordered me to kneel, cuffed my hands on the back and left.

After a while, I began counting in my head. I was somewhere over 6,000 when both of them came back.

“She is not doing badly. Some more stamina is what she needs, and exposure to more people. She still wants to hide and is far from getting used to be touched.” It was Jim commenting.

“Thanks, Jim, for the help. I have to get her to the Doc.”

“There does not seem much change in her coloration anymore. You think she has fully developed?”

“That's for Melinda to decide. I don't see much change either. Don't you think that she is beautiful?”

“Yes, she is, shockingly beautiful, the first one where the treatment really worked. I wonder what happened to those other creatures where it failed?”

“Don't ask,” Tom said. We left the room.

She, Melinda, agreed that I had 'fully developed' whatever that meant. After the usual exam, she said, “Corporate management is flying in tomorrow evening. They want to see her. Make sure she is ready.”

“I can only do that if I can take her blindfold off today.”

“Do it.”

Tom took me back to the mirror room, the muzzle and halter stayed off, just the leash. I knew the moment of truth had arrived, was shivering like a leaf.

I was aware that they had done something to the skin, including inside my mouth, vagina and eyes. There was no hair. Jim had been referring to color. I had seen the spots and circles. Yet, I was not prepared for what I saw when Tom removed the blindfold.

A leopard was staring back at me. They had changed my skin so I was the exact image of a leopard. My whole body was spotted, except for my breasts which were white.

I passed out.

I was lying on the floor. The moment my mind worked again, it knew what it had seen, did not wanted to accept it. I curled up, turned away from the mirror, screamed until my throat was hurting and screams turned into sobs. Tom was sitting next to me; he did not touch me, simply waited.

He finally turned me around and forced me to look at myself, the black spots with the brown center on my side, arms and legs, he even forced me to see them on my back leaving less and less space in between as they came closer to the spine and the foundation became darker brown, the dark line of the spine. Where the spots approached my belly, the throat, and the inside of my upper arms and thighs, the brown centers disappeared, the spots were just black and decreasing in size and number, light brown skin in between.

My belly, throat and the inside of my thighs and upper arms had only just the faintest pattern on light brown background, a smudged darker line drawing up from my crotch towards the bottom of the ribcage. My breasts were snow white, except for the nipples. The aureoles were patterned with smallish irregular black spots, pink skin in between, the nipples completely pink.

Irregular black spots on brown background on my head, turning into a grizzle towards the tip of my nose. The inside of my ears was also grizzled, so were my hands and feet. The rim of my eyes, ears, lips and skin around the front of my nose was black, a black line leading up from my mouth to the nose and several dark almost horizontal spotted lines drawing in from my cheeks to that center line without touching it. My dark brown eyes were the only part of my body that had not changed.

Tom forced my mouth open, the inside of my lips was black, gums and tongue a light bright pink, so was the inside of my labia and clit, as he did not fail to show to me.

I must admit that the overall effect was perversely sexy. Any observers' eyes were immediately drawn to the white breast and pink nipples. The lighter throat and belly highlighted the places of my vulnerability. If I opened my mouth or showed my lower parts, the bright pink was one single invitation to sexual intercourse. 

Tom let me stare for a long time at the animal and the animal in the mirror stared back at me. Then he ordered me to crawl back to the cage. I obeyed. They had succeeded to transform me into an animal. I had the skin with the pattern of a leopard, I could not talk anymore, I was crawling and eating like an animal, they kept me caged and muzzled, and trained me to perform.

I exposed to receive the injection in my crotch, let him lock me into the cage and ate the pellets as ordered. The muzzle and halter stayed off. My soul tried to leave this body, leaving it to them as they wanted it, an animal.

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