Suzi is Rebuilt as a Sex Toy ch 03

CORSET WORK

I heard Michael and Thomas talking about my body, how well the surgery, hormones, and injections had turned out. They were very excited about pimping me out to the big-butt crowd now. I cried but knew that they were right. My days of appealing to the guys who wanted the runway model type were over. I was entering fetish territory, where I would appeal only to certain perverted tastes. It was a long way off, I could still pass for “normal” – except for my feet – until they took my clothes off and saw my cunt. I was being turned into one of Thomas’ experiments. One of his Perfect Sluts.

Now, I realized that the pictures he’d shown me at his house were not retouched. They were earlier models, earlier experiments. Failures. And I realized that the computer graphic was not a game, not a silly exaggeration. It was the template he was using to rebuild me. I was slowly being erased and in my place would be a flesh and blood sex doll, a cartoonish caricature of womanhood dressed in latex and leather, like the John Willie drawings but alive and responsive.

“Let’s give her a try, shall we?” Thomas said. There was no mistake in his voice, it was a command. “Let’s get her out on the streets and see what kind of degenerates she attracts.”

Michael handed me a corset and told me to put it on. Thomas watched and when I was finished, he slapped me and removed it. “What was that?” he complained. Thomas told Michael to hold me, then he put it on again but this time, he pulled it tighter and tighter, telling me to ‘exhale harder, all of it’. By the time he was finished, I could barely breath. He shook his head, still not satisfied. He tapped my lowest rib. “We may have to have some of these removed.” He looked at me and smiled. “We will see.”


Michael dressed me in red Spandex pants, my ballet boots, and a silvery halter top. He had me make up in cheap-whore fashion and put on a load of costume jewelry. I knew what he was doing – he’d done it before. Hooker Day. But this time, I was different. Much different. I looked in the mirror. Without underwear, my swollen cunt and clitoris gave the “camel toe look” a whole new meaning. And the way the corset pulled in my waist, I knew I looked at least three inches around smaller. The short breaths were making me hyperventilate, so I slowed down my breathing as well as I could.

But my hips and ass were the thing. The Big Change. My ass cheeks looked like balloons, a big swollen booty-dancer dance. I was in tears when he had me turn and look at myself in the mirror. I looked like the cheapest hooker in the worst low-budget porn film ever made. I thought I’d hit the bottom until he handed me a tight-curl, piled-high wig.

They drove me to the bad part of town. Again. I knew that I had more to be afraid of from the pimps than from the police. The police knew me. Over the many months Michael had been doing this, he’d made the rounds of the local towns with me. I’d been arrested for solicitation and each time, he’d been able to explain it away as sex play. A few of the cops and lawyers were now regulars.

The pimps were a bigger problem. We’d run into a few, and Michael had always been able to talk his way out of a beating by offering me to the pimp to work for him for a night or two. It had always worked. So far. The biggest problem of all was the other working girls. They’d threaten me and Michael would have to throw money their way to keep them from beating me.

I hadn’t been on the street long when an Expedition drove up. There were four dark-skinned men wearing sunglasses and drinking. They pulled over and in a minute, we’d agreed on twenty dollars each for fuck and suck. I had a hard time climbing into the truck with my boots. One of them grabbed me and pulled me up, dropped me on the seat between them. They talked about my ass and my boots, fondling me while the driver headed for someone’s apartment. My cunt was on fire, my crotch had a big damp spot that was easy to see against the red. One of them laughed that I’d pissed my panties.

When I got out of the truck and started walking to the door, a hooker came out of another doorway and yelled something at one of the men. They argued, him screaming and waving his beer bottle. Then, one of the men whispered something in his ear and he laughed. He told the whore that I’d lick her pussy and pay her if she’d just shut up. I stared at her. A strung out, scrawny woman in a tight and dirty yellow dress, big black go-go boots and heavy eye makeup. She looked me up and down and laughed. She called me a whore’s whore and went into the building.

The room was on the third floor and I had a hard time with the stairs. The men kept pushing their hands against my huge ass, pushing me up. I lost my balance twice and fell on the steps, bruising my arm. When we got upstairs, they started right in, pulling off everything but the corset and boots. When they saw my cunt, swollen and bright red, they stepped back. One of them wanted to call it off but one of the others laughed and started spanking my pussy hard. “Watch her face,” he said. I moaned and begged for more. He hit me again and I came. The whore looked at me and leaned over, spit on my face and smeared it across my cheek and lips. I opened my mouth and licked the rest off of her hand.

Someone got a camera, called me the kinkiest skank he’d ever fucked, and took pictures the whole time. I knew they would be up on the Internet by the end of the night and it made me cum. Me with fingers in my pussy, me with cock in my mouth, me with cum all over me. I was getting off over and over. Their cocks were huge and they were strong and horny.
I had a hard time staying focused, kept begging to be hurt, to be hurt, knowing it was dangerous but needing it.

The men didn’t want to do anything but fuck me and slap me, but the whore was having fun pulling my hair, scratching my titties, pinching my cunt lips. She’d push her fingers into my cunt, right around whatever cock was fucking me. It was incredible, I’d never felt anything like that before. When they were finished with me, I asked them if they had any friends they could call. They threw me my clothes and laughed. Then, each of them reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty dollar bill and handed it to the whore they’d brought upstairs. She smiled and sustuffedffed the money into her bra. Then, she pulled up her skirt and pushed my head down and told me to get started on her.

She was smelly and the hair around her snatch was crusty. I gagged as I sucked dried cum from her pubes and her cunt lips. My tongue searched for her clit but it was tiny and smooth. I rubbed over it and she moaned but it didn’t stiffen. Mine was boner hard between my legs and she was barely turned on. Too much fucking? Or maybe not enough pain.

The men drove me back to my street and I turned three more tricks, each one a single fuck. When Michael came back for me, I was horny and hot. I begged him to find someone for me tonight but he said he was busy.

This is why I’m on the computer writing this, I am so horny and need something to take my mind off of my cunt. It isn’t working. I will spend the rest of my life chasing cock. Maybe I’ll see you sometime. I’d like that.


GROCERY SHOPPING

Though I am completely exhausted, Michael insists that I write up my latest adventures for you to read before I go to bed. Tonight is a seven hour sleep night, a luxury for me, so you may find some of the what I write slightly abbreviated. [Correction. Michael reviewed what I wrote and told me to go back and try again. You are currently reading the third and final draft. If Michael approves it, I will be allowed to sleep.]

Exactly five weeks and two days ago, I was identified by a man while I was shopping for groceries. Michael sends me to the local volume discount store as needed to buy toilet paper, detergent, the mundane items needed to run a household. The store is one of the huge chains, the one known for underpaying its employees and treating them like cattle, and notorious for its obvious prejudices against the women and minorities who work there.