Patron: Gray, Greg (see File b-0002)
California, America
SubjectGenetic Marker Alignment: 99.825%
IQ and aptitude testing: 83/low-average. Placed below 20th percentile in battery testing. Personality traits amenable to Program implementation and KOLECTV directives.
Language skills: English: Moderate conversational ability. Adequate reading. Moderate to Poor writing skills.
Baseline Data
Ht: 5'5 1/2" / 1.6637 M
Wt: 110 lbs / 49.89 kg
Msmnts: 33c-21-33
Ok, so I have to admit - I'm a little excited for this.
I'll be seeing her for the first time today. Well - the first time since she started her treatments. I'm anxious to see the changes. My researchers had shown me photos, a couple months ago, of a good number of young women they'd chosen, maybe twenty - who were all genetically suited for the program of medication they were proposing. All pretty, all attractive, all with nice figures to begin with. And all were from a handful of poor villages in the far reaches of their all-but-third-world region, a small, one-time soviet republic.
All were women who saw this as an opportunity out of their current situation, out of their current lives, out of poverty. They were all, I was told, desperate to be chosen, anxious to be picked. And, out of all these photos, I had chosen her: "Milenka." She was definitely "my type": wholesome, pretty, and...well...just look at her...
It was her that I chose to begin the medication. Medication that would change her, slowly. I mean - yes, she's gorgeous already, right? But they promised they could build her, eventually, into <gulp> my perfect new wife...
Let me give you some background:
I was incredulous, at first, When I found the reports online. A tiny little biomedical tech company, in a previous soviet republic, that was doing crazy experimental things. Shadowy, totally illegal work on humans....well, on women. "Enhancements", they called it. But the information was...limited.
I didn't know what to believe. But I was intrigued. I investigated. I found out what I could. I wrote to them. Eventually, I spoke to them. Women, all. Russian, maybe Ukrainian, by the sound of it. But scientists. Researchers. Entrepeneurs. And - more than likely, I'm guessing - criminals. But let's look past that.
They showed me photos. They asked me what I liked, and gave me pictures. Pictures of what they could do to someone, to a woman. Without surgery. Did I believe them? They showed me "before" and
"after"...they seemed legit, not doctored...
...and these women were gorgeous. The "after" pictures were...nuts. Super hot.
The company - they called themselves "KOLECTV" wanted me as a client. They wanted my money, of course. They offered me a woman...
Women: oh, man. I...love women. I do. I adore them, worship them. Breasts, hips, hair, legs, feet, eyes, mouths. The way they laugh and walk and talk and cry and everything. And - with my money - I've
had plenty of opportunities to be with women, I have. I've had "girlfriends." I've slept with a few. There was that hooker my dad had got for my twentieth birthday...that was terrible...
But...I'm kind of a geek. Well, I guess I'm not a geek. I'm not a bad looking guy. I stay in decent shape. I get nervous easy but I'm well-spoken. When I'm comfortable around someone, I can even be eloquent. I guess I'm more...shy. Around people. Technically, it's "Social Anxiety Disorder". So...even with all my countless millions (I think it may be...man...a billion at this point?), relationships with women have been hard to come by. Relationships, at least, with the kind of woman I want...
And so, when I researched this company that, as disreputable as they sounded, claimed to be able to build perfect women, my interest was piqued. More than piqued...I became obsessed with the idea, imagining my ideal mate. Picturing what they could do. But - I'd have to keep this quiet. And, I'm sort of a control freak. I would want a hand in "making" her, I would want to be in control of the whole situation, the whole process, and make sure it was all kept hush-hush...
The way it was, I didn't know if this company would do that. They seemed to be operating kinda...under the radar. Limited budgets. And - though I'm young (I like to think, being in my early thirties) I'd worked enough in the business world to not trust anyone, unless they worked for me. And, listening to what they had to say, to do it the way I wanted,
they'd need more capital. I'd want them to have the best of everything: better equipment, access to better supples, etc etc. And so...I bought them.
I tended to do this. When there was something I really wanted, I used my money. Rather than having to deal with the vagueries of a business relationship, I just made it mine. In my current situation, I could tend to afford to do this. My family, you see, was very wealthy. I say "was" because, really, now it's just me. They all died in a tragic yachting accident...what sort of family has a family reunion on a yacht? Mine. Everyone was there...except for me. I hate boats.
So now, then, it's all belongs to me. I was the one and only heir of all these rich people. I have people managing most of my money and the multitude of businesses I own. I try to keep a hand in it myself - I was groomed for this from childhood and I'm well-educated (MBA from the University of Chicago, some time at Oxford, blah blah blah) but it's such a huge web I end up relying heavily on the people I hire. That gives me plenty of time alone...
Where was I..? Oh yeah - KOLECTV. I bought them, several months ago, more or less unbeknownst to my handful of advisers and attornies. I wanted this, as I said, kept hush-hush. I was more than a little... embarrassed...by the whole situation. And from there, I kept in contact with them more or less through email and the phone. They ran things there, under their own direction, had started treatments with "Milenka", and...here we are...
Recently they had sent me photos, current photos of her, a few days ago. Pictures of how she looks now, after just over two months of treatment, sequestered at their facility in Western Kazakhstan. The changes were apparent:
And I was happy some of the pictures showed her out having some fun with other girls on the treatments:
But today was the first time we were to "meet". For their own reasons, reasons of her treatments, they'd kept her more or less cloistered. They'd limited her exposure to the outside world, and didn't want her to have much contact with me. But for today, at my insistence/badgering, they'd arranged for a short video chat between the two of us. I'd been told her English was improving, and that we shouldn't have too much trouble communicating...
I have faint memories as a small child when things were different, so controlling under the former Soviet regime....but things began to breakdown and eventually they made their way to Kazakhstan and the old governor and much of the Soviet police, the KGB, they left..my mother, who was then still alive was, like my father and brothers, were happier, especially my Pappa, who had done some jail time in his youth and knew what the inside of a gulag looked like...it was tougher being an ethnic Russian...
Now, I am 24, and I have been working hard as a waitress...I did not make the university...I am not as smart as the other girls were in school....but I am pretty and like many, I know of the American Dream and want what it has to offer...I so want to go to America....I love what it can offer to me...things are better where I live in Akzhaik, oh that is the district where I live, but the black market economy has made it difficult for people to move up...my brothers have tried to get into this market, only to find that Balka, my oldest brother was shot several times...he is alive, but is now infirmed and in a wheelchair...
So, when they were looking for young woman to be in this special program, that there was a promise of a better life, possibly being able to live in America, I jumped at the chance....my Pappa, he allowed me to do this and I thought....there has to be more than life here in Akzhaik for a pretty girl like me....
Of course, the living has been like living in a bubble here....I see the other girls and I am changing for the better...I mean I love that my face is so clear now, and my lips, they are so gig and full, and my грудь (my breasts) they are also so big and are getting bigger every week that I am here...
But, I am so ready to leave, I want to go soon, and hope that I go to America...my English is getting better, although I know it is rough, but I try to learn each day to become better....
Now I am being brought into a special room...it looks like an interrogation room and Belshka, one of the people here speaks....his English is very good...
"Milenka, today you are going to speak to a Mr. Grey. He owns the company. You are being made for him. He lives in California. That is in America."
Me...excited....
"Yes, I know. I would love and go in America."
Belshka, his hand on my shoulder....
"Yes, I'm sure you would. But this call is very important. Make a good impression. Tell him your name an say hello. And make sure to say Mr. Grey first."
They turn on the monitor and I see a handsome man on the screen...he looks to be older than I am, but still young....
Belshka nods his head for me to speak....
Stupidly I go close to the microphone....
"Mr. Grey, me name Milenka Kovalenko. Hello."
Belshka moves me so I sit up straight....I show the screen, and Mr. Grey a nervous smile.....
I am nervous myself - excited, yep, I said it before, but nervous - "meeting" her for the first time. This is the woman...this is the girl that might be my wife..!
I know I have nothing, really, to be nervous about. These people: they all work for me. This girl: I could end the program in a moment and never have to hear of her again. No one else here in the States knows I'm doing this. But - I know myself. Pretty girls...I get nervous around them. They tend to get what they want from me: that's why, I'm sure, I've hired so many of them for top positions in my companies. Why I have so many attractive women, of all ages, as my closest advisors and counsels. I tell myself I like to surround myself with them...makes the job more enjoyable. But it gives them, employees of mine, more sway over me then they should have. I think, sometimes, they know it, too...
Whatever...back to Milenka. I have to act confident, in charge on this video call. I'm in my home office, big screen monitor powered up. "My" people overseas have the feed on, all seems in order. She appears onscreen:
I can't help it, my heart flutters already. She is so pretty. And, that accent, that broken English: so adorably...sexy.
"Hi, Milenka," I begin, looking right into the camera. I try not to react as I notice her sitting up straight, posing her shoulders just right. I am suddenly a bit tongue-tied, and kick myself for not writing down the little speech I wanted to say to her on our first "meeting". I think quickly on the file that KOLECTV had sent me, the background on this girl. She has been through so much hardship, so much pain, compared with my upbringing. Her life has not been easy...and I hope things are already changing for the better.
"I...I hope you're doing well, that they're, uh...treating you well," I continue, now also a little chagrined...she is going through these treatments, subjecting herself to these experimental medications which make her bustier, taller, hips bigger, curves curvier - all for me. All to satisfy my...proclivities. I flush with the idea: What must she think of me?
I put that out of my head, again focusing on my task here: I am in charge. I am running the show. I am going to make this woman a fucking sex-goddess, and she will be my wife. But...I have to be nice...
I know that handful of women who have been through the treatments previously at the facility have been treated rather...poorly. They'd been more or less isolated, housed in the austere dormitories of the KOLECTV's meager, cement-block campus and not allowed much beyond the lab, the classroom, and the time in the spartan gym for their intense, daily workouts. When I bought the company, that was one thing I insisted start to change. I realized the need for secrecy, for privacy, for limited exposure to the outside world, but these were human beings, not lab rats. I had put enough money into the program...I hope things had improved.
"I...I hear they've taken you and the other girls out a little. I saw some photos from your trip to the Aral, and...was that a soccer game?"
She smiles at the camera but doesn't speak: I can tell she is as uncomfortable with this as me, and I can't blame her. I take a deep breath, and smirk in good humor. "This is weird, right?" I laugh, trying to lighten the mood, "It's all new to me too." I pause, and watch as she giggles, lowering her eyes demurely for a moment before looking back into the camera. Another deep breath, and I continue: "How have you been...feeling. Since starting the uh, y'know...the program? I hope you've been okay..?"
He knows about the soccer game, oh they must tell him everything...he really is someone big in America if he knows such details...I go to speak closer to the microphone and Belshka pulls me back by the shoulders this time to make sure I sit straight...
I smile and then brush my hair back with my fingers...somehow it relaxes me a little....
"Oh, yes you see pictures of soccer game. Is was fun. I with the other girls. We have fun. And it nice to get out." ~I keep smiling~
Mr. Gray said:
"This is weird, right? It's all new to me too. How have you been...feeling. Since starting the uh, y'know...the program? I hope you've been okay..?"
I get excited over this question...again in my heavy Russian accent and limited English...
"Oh, is been how you say, 'mazing. Ah, I get taller. I get bigger." ~my hands over my breast area~ "I look prettier. I get, how you say, rounder allover. Oh, I must thank you for opportunity. Only bad is all tests. Lots of blood to give, scans, medical stuff. And place like a выглядит как тюрьма."
The last words in Russian mean "it feels like a jail"....
Belshka, with his Russian accent, steps in....
"Mr. Gray, sir, she says it is very institutional. You know sir, even medical facilities are not resorts. She and the other girls are not being abused, I assure you."
I am glad, as we talk - in this really, really awkward situation - that Milenka starts to warm up, and seems a little less nervous. I don't know if I can say the same for myself...especially when she first opens up with:
"...Ah, I get taller. I get bigger. I look prettier. I get, how you say, rounder allover."
<gulp> See..? This is the sort of thing that throws me off. She seems so nonchalant about it, and she seems so innocent. That gets my buzz buzzing...so sexy, and she doesn't even know it yet. And - does she know what she's in for? These treatments have only just started...
She continues:
"Oh, I must thank you for opportunity. Only bad is all tests. Lots of blood to give, scans, medical stuff. And place like a выглядит как тюрьма."
That gets my attention, chills me a bit. And when Belshka steps in front of the camera, I can't help but think dark thoughts. He rushes to translate and explain, but I can feel the tension even from here, halfway across the world.
Belska has been my contact, in many instances, at KOLECTV as far as the daily progress of Milenka and the treatment of the other girls. He also seems to be an intermediary between the researchers and myself. I am told it is because of his excellent English, but I'm not really sure of his role in the company. He seems never to be able to give me straight answers himself so I don't know how much authority he actually has. He is also, I notice, the only male I've come across in the company. There is also something vaguely...well, the word "enforcer" comes to mind...about him.
"Of course, of course," I smile at Belska as he backs away from the camera from where he had leaned in, assuring me of the girls' safety, "I understand completely." I do...I do feel like the women are being treated...well, humanely. Aside from the whole human guinea-pig thing. That is, I really don't think they're being physically...abused. Hurt.
But, also, the last thing I want is Milenka thinking she's my...property. Or that she's being sold into some sort of slavery. I don't want her to think she has to treat me like...an owner. I want her to know I care about her, and the other girls, as far as their safety and comfort.
So, as she sits back up again in front of the camera, facing me but with downturned gaze, I try to keep my eyes off her chest and continue:
"Is there...anything else I can get for you? Anything else, Milenka, you need or want? Food, clothes...anything?" I ask, as she looks up again at me with her big, lovely eyes...her guileless, expectant face...
"And, also..." I add, in an impulsive aside before she speaks, "you look very pretty..."
I don't understand everything Belshka says...I sit there and listen and watch as Mr. Gray responds, saying he understands...what does he understand, what?? Ooh, I wish my comprehension of English were better.....
Then this handsome man speaks to me again....the man I could wind up marrying....
Mr. Gray said:
"Is there...anything else I can get for you? Anything else, Milenka, you need or want? Food, clothes...anything? And, also you look very pretty.
"
I look away at first and smile, then look back...
"Do you really think that Milenka look," I struggle with the word pretty, and my face visibly shows it, but I say it, "pretty? Is very nice that you say such things, yes."
What do I want...
"No, Mr. Gray. Milenka don' need. I am happy."
Then I look up at Belshka and he nods his head...I give him a nervous smile not wanting him to be angry at me.
Belshka then cuts in....
"Mr. Gray, if that will be all I would like to excuse Milenka is tired and needs her rest. She has been up all day. Lots of training as you know."
Milenka tells me there is nothing she needs. Nothing she wants.
Of course, I don't totally believe her. I believe she's being told by these people to act happy, content, at all costs. Perhaps her life in the facility is actually better than it was in her village...but I know she's not being allowed much freedom. I know the comforts are...very limited. That she doesn't ask for anything...? That tells me she is either very submissive, very scared (of them? of me?) or both.
Her eyes, her nervous glance up at Belshka, confirms this for me...
...and that I have to get her out of there.
From behind her, Belshka asks if Milenka can be excused, citing a long day.
"Yes, yes, of course..." I agree, watching Milenka's face. Though it is morning here, with the time difference it is getting to be late at night where they are. "And I want a few words with you, Belshka," I say, and before Milenka starts to stand, I add, "But first, Milenka, one more thing..."
She looks promptly back into the camera. Though I had not planned on saying this on our first meeting, I can't ignore the feeling I get off this girl...she seems so genuine, so unaffected. So...perfectly what I was looking for.
"I just wanted to tell you...before you go...that, uh..." Her eyes, magically sparkling like gems, fluster me for a moment. "...that I'm very excited to meet you. I can't wait for when you're ready, to come here to America..."
Though she doesn't speak before getting up to leave - again, probably the influence of Belshka standing behind her - her smile grows warmly, ebulliently, almost giddily, and her full chest swells in enthusiasm. She does, though, with Belshka's hand falling to her shoulder, stand and move offscreen without a word.
The camera is joslted, for a moment, as an unseen hand behind the camera swings it, to follow her walk from the room. My throat catches at the sight of her shockingly impressive legs and rear, displayed to full effect in a tiny pair of white denim shorts, with hips swaying lasciviously as she exits, and is ushered out by Belshka.
"Nice, yes?" he says, with an unpleasant leer into the camera as he sits, heavily, in Milenka's place. He glances, for a moment, above and behind the camera - almost for direction. But he quickly returns his beady eyes to me. "She is growing up strong, that one. She is to be...how you say?...our 'masterpiece'." With a self-satisfied smile, he waits for my reaction.
"Yes...yes," I agree, suddenly uncomfortable, "She's...very nice." I pause, and take a drink of water. I'm always thirsty. "You have...done a good job, choosing her. I think she's going to, uh, work out well. She's...very pretty." Again, I am a little mortified at the whole situation, having to come to this point to...let's face it...bring my fantasies to life.
"Pretty?" he all but snorts, "She is going to be fucking goddess soon. More treatments, more workout. How you like her breasts? You want them bigger?"
Taken aback, all of a sudden, by his frankness, I'm a little thrown. "w-wh..w-whu..?" But then, after a moment - trying not to stammer in chagrin - I answer: "Uh...yes. B-...Bigger, yes."
"Bigger, of course," Belshka agrees, looking again to the unseen presence behind the camera. He seems suddenly a bit diffident, humbled. "We will do, sir, for you. Bigger." He looks into the camera, and straightens the cheap tie around his stout neck. "Anything else...sir?"
"Yes," I say sipping again at my water. "I know we had set on a schedule, when she would be ready..."
"Yes," Belshka agrees.
"But I want to move that up, as much as we can," I continue, "Will she be ready in a month?"
He looks again, offscreen, for direction. Then he nods, back at me. "Yes. Yes. It can be done..."
"Good," I say. I am satisfied, relieved...for several reasons. Yes, I am excited to...<gulp> be with her. I can't even...I can't even imagine, what it will be like...
But, also: I want her out of there, as soon as possible. I feel responsible for her, and though I've agreed to subject her to this dehumanizing process, I want it over for her. I want to show her life in America, in Southern California. I want to get to know her...
And, last - I want done with these people. I've broken so many of my own rules about business, about life in general, in my dealings with this company. I'm ashamed to have sunk to this to begin with, and when the time comes I plan on...I dunno...handing management of it over to someone else, one of my people. Someone discreet. I'd sell it away, but I know I need to keep everything quiet...
"Good," I repeat, more or less done with this man, but thinking of Milenka, "I'd like more chances to video chat with her..."
"We can do one more time," Belshka says, after direction from offscreen, "in two week. One time."
"Fine," I agree, a little disappointed but not wanting to sound too...eager. "But make sure - for me, Belshka - that she is comfortable. That she is allowed some time for recreation, to go out with the other girls. That she gets some exercise, and fresh air-"
"Oh, she get out, she get fun. She get exercise," he interjects, "lot of exercise. Is all good. Two week." He looks knowingly into the camera. "'Til then...you want pictures?"
Again I get a little flustered and I want to be done with this - but I can't resist. "Yes...s-sure..." I answer, just as I'm reaching to turn the camera off.
In a >blink<, the video feed ends. I sit back in my chair...
...I need to think about getting things ready here, for her. She won't come here with much. She'll need a room, of her own. Some clothes? She'll need someone to help her...I'll need to think of an assistant, maybe? At least...a driver? So much to do, I think...feeling a little giddy myself...
Milenka...very good. You conducted yourself well. He was very impressed.
You will make a very good wife for him. You will be going to America in one month - congratulations. Sooner than we thought, but no problem. You will be going with supplies from us, ways to communicate with us. We are already establishing people there to help you.
You will continue your treatments, your schooling, and your physical training here. Every day you are more beautiful, taller, stronger. Every day you are a better woman for him. And when you are finally with him, you will seek to find how you can be even more his fantasy woman, fulfill his deepest desires. And we will help you. We will be with you, to help. But of course, as we have said - he must not know.
FILE w-773-6
SUBJECT CASE 4533a
Kovalenko, Milenka
Domestic Duties (Maid's Class)
Ms. Gryinshki
"All right girls, we covered a lot so far. But I am going to do a review. Milenka, you first."
Milenka gets up from her seat....
...and presents herself to Ms. Gryinshki with a proper curtsey...
"Bend over from me."
Milenka bends properly at the hips, not at the knees....
"Now," Ms. Gryinshki says, walk for me"
"Yes, Ms. Gryinski, I walk for you," says Milenka.
"You, do not walk for me, you walk for your future husband, no?" bellows out Ms. Gryinshki.
"Yes, Ms. Gryinshki, I walk for fut (struggles with the word future). I walk for later husband," answers Milkena. Then she walks up and down the classroom, back straight, head up, no slouching, bosom out and in her 6" heels no less.....once, twice, three times....
"Ah, very good," says Ms. Gryinshki. She turns to the other young women in the program...."All right ladies today we go over the finer points of dusting. Get your dusters out, chop, chop. lets go"
re: FILE w-773-6 / HIGHEST PRIORITY
CASE 4533a
Kovalenko, Milenka
Patron: Gray, Greg (see File b-0002)
My transcribed audio notes re: conversation today with Gryinshki, S.
"Sabina - have a seat. <pause>. How did it go today, in class."
SG: "Good, good. I like new 'Coca-Cola' chairs. 'McDonalds' stuff. American decor....surround them with it. Very smart."
"And the girls? Ms. Kovalenko?"
SG: "Well. It went well. She is a fine student. Will be good domestic. Cooks well already."
"Is she learning American recipes?"
SG: "Yes, yes - she is good. Good cook. But - if I can ask, ma'am...why are we teaching her this? In America, she will have everything, right? Cook, maid, servants? She will not have to clean. She will not have to coo-"
"She must learn to serve in all ways, Sabina, like the other girls. Mr. Gray said specifically he would like wife to cook. And, yes, she will have someone to clean the house. But you and I know the attraction man will have seeing woman being able to - wanting to - serve him like this..."
SG: "Yes, yes, I understand."
"So...Did you take photos?"
SG: "Yes, like you asked. <pause> Was interesting."
"How do you mean?"
SG: "Well, when I asked Milenka to pose, in maid costume, for picture - picture for Mr. Gray - one of the other girls, the new one...Alina...she had a comment. <pause> She said: 'изображение таким образом, он может мастурбировать Вам"...'Picture so he can masturbate to you."
<pause>
"Yes..? And..?"
SG: "So, of course, I corrected Alina. We are to speak only English in this class. And we are not to speak of such things, not here. She understood - she is new. She said it only to make other girls giggle. But Milenka...she...she sat up straighter. She smiled. there was a glint in her eye, for the photo...here..."
(Submitted to Case File)
"Very good. Thank you, Sabina. See you tomorrow..."
Selection of current ("casual") and past/pre-treatment/historical archive photos of 4533a prepared, embedded with trojan script W32/Zhelatin variant. Emailed to patron ("at patron's request").
InfoTech Dept to monitor patron activity, prepare daily reports.
I noticed the new email in my private inbox on my phone, while touring one of the my manufacturing plants - we make industrial lighting here, I'm told. I don't like to handle any correspondence from KOLECTV on my phone, at this point...call me paranoid, but I wouldn't want anyone snooping into the business I'm doing with them.
Luckily - though I'm travelling in the Northwest US this week - I have my personal laptop with me. So, when I finally have some moments to myself at night in my hotel room, I'm able to check what's happening. The subject mentioned this was specifically about Milenka, and not financials/etc/etc...so my interest was piqued all day...
To: GregGrayPersonal@gmail.com
From: D_Belshka@KOLECTV.kz
Mr. Gray-
As requested, please find attached more photos of Ms. Kovalenko.
-Mr. Belshka
An attached .zip file held a good number of photos from Milenka's file, from old pictures they had somehow obtained of Milenka's early life...
...to a selection of shots from throughout her first two months of treatment...
...along with more recent photos, documenting her time in the facility. In the gym...
(omg how much weight is she lifting..?)
...some more casual shots...
...and some pictures of her in her other training "classes". They seemed to have a makeshift charmschool...teaching her how to cook, speak proper English, etc. They even have her in a maid's outfit...teaching her god knows what...wow....that picture is great...
FILE w-773-6
SUBJECT CASE 4533a
Kovalenko, Milenka
Treatment # 17
Milenka goes to a special room....it is very much hospital like, to a testing room....women in lab coats assists her as she enters the main room and there is this huge table in the center of the room...they continue to help her by removing all of her clothes...then place her on the table and strap her down...they place something in her mouth to bite on...she looks a little nervous....
They measure her....
"1.82" (72 in) one of the technicians state aloud.
Then they weigh her right on the table....
"58.05" (128lbs) again stated aloud by the technician.
Then her body measurements...
86D-53-86 (34D-21-34) and again stated aloud by the technician.
Next, a very well-endowed nurse places a needle onto the pack of Milenka's hand...a network of tubes are connected to this needle, which includes an IV and some other drugs....Milenka feels a little lightheaded and soon passes out...
A technician places a multitude of electrode pads on her head and her body...presumably, for monitoring purposes of her heart and her brain...but electrodes are on her breasts and near her pussy....
A technician hits a computer keyboard to begin Phase 2...a second part to the table comes down from the ceiling and connects with the table, encapsulating Milenka's body inside of it...
"Ready for resizing of Subject 4533a."
Inside the synergy of electrical impulses a special cocktail of drugs and DNA altering chemicals conspire to reprogram Milenka's physical body.....
One hour, two hours, three fours pass.....
Inside of her cocoon, Milenka slowly, microscopically in some cases, grows, but she grows....finally it is over, and the top part is release from the table and measurements are taken again....
"1.88" (74 in) one of the technicians state aloud.
"60.78 (134lbs) again stated aloud by the technician.
89DD-59-89(35DD-22-35)
The technicians are very happy with Milenka's results....
Behind the desk the woman - facing not the several nervous technicians standing sheepishly in the room, but the new report in her hands - fumes quietly
"How did this happen!?" she all but yells, finally, falling back into her native Ukraine. "How did she become so...big...in one treatment!? Six centimeters?!"
"Excuse me, s-sorry ma'am, my apologies," one woman speaks up, a slim, freckled, busty redhead, "We just thought...we thought you'd want-"
"What?! To cause him heart attack?! To make him run away crying like baby from giant woman at airport?!" She stops. She does not like her people to see her this way. It is not productive; her superiors would disapprove.
She draws breath. "No...no...She is taller than him, now, already. Stop...stop height. And do not tell patron, of her height. He will be...afraid. He is not ready for...amazon." She pauses, to think. A wry smile. "He will ask for more, eventually, I think. But concentrate on breasts, for now. We have less than two weeks...he has requested a video session, no? Can we manage, without her looking like giant?"
It's been a little bit of time, since I've heard from Belshka, or anyone else from KOLECTV, on Milenka's progress. I've been busy, but I have to say the thought of her here, finally, has been on my mind quite a bit. Well, a lot, actually. I'm nervous for it, in a lot of ways. It's going to be awkward, definitely, at least at first. I'm starting to have doubts...should I have done this at all? Is this absolutely crazy? But then, the thought of her...and I can't help but start buzzing again...
I haven't had a real report for a while, in fact. I know the treatments have succeeded in making her a bit taller...how tall might she be, when she gets here? Five-eight? Might she - yikes! - look me in the eye, at my own five-ten? Wow...she'll look great. I've always been turned on by tall women.
I don't want to ask too much, to interfere. It's an understatement to say that there's a strange...corporate culture...in that place. I know the scientists like to be left alone, and I want to respect that, to make sure that our "Milenka Project" comes out as well as possible. And, as far as the business end of things - now that I own the place - well....it's a money pit. I'm not making a dime (or, rather, one tenge) off of it, and the USD I've sunk into it for improvements...I'm not totally sure where it's all going. But...that will all be over soon, hopefully.
I had asked for another video conference with her, for sometime around now. I wonder if that'll happen?
The video chat opens up with some footage from Milenka's cooking class...again, there might be servants in the home of Mr. Gray, but the importance of Milenka knowing how to cook and clean is important in being the good wife.....
Once the video ends then the video cuts to Milenka....
Belshka's voice cuts in...
"Mr. Gray, we thought you should visually see Milenka's progress. As you can very well see, Milenka is strong and has, as you Americans say, all the right curves."
Suddenly, Belshka is in the shot standing next to Milenka in his three-piece suit....
"As you can plainly see, Milenka is now taller than I. I being 5'11" and Milenka now 6'2" in American standard size. Treatments have been doubled, in some cases tripled in amounts, and are going well. No sode effects. She is tolerating this and other medications. Milenka on proper diet still. Training is also going well. Is reason for us to start out with cooking class video. We do hope you like the new Milenka. She is out of all the girls here, the finest example of a manufactured wife."
Belshka turns to Milenka...
"Why don't you give Mr. Gray a look at all of you. Move around."
Milenka does as she is told and turns around slowly, hands on hips, walks back and forth like a regular model...she bends forward showing some of those big boobs of hers, which can hardly be contained by her bikini...then she shows her backside, moves her hip to one side slowly, then the other....buts her now longer hair up in a bun, turns her head over her shoulder and smiles for the camera....and then turns back around at laughs and says something to Belshka....
"Я глупость делает все это, и испытываю чувство неловкости я честно."
Belshka says something in return....
"Вы можете делать так, как я говорю, в настоящее время не очень удобно. Вы хотите перейти к Америке? Или могу ли я выбрать другую девушку на г-н Грей?"
Suddenly her face becomes serious...its very obvious that she has been scolded for something she said...Belshka points to the chair and Milenka takes her seat...she looks away from the camera...
Belshka stands behind her and places her hands around her head and rotates it and keeps her head up so that she is looking at the camera...he slowly lets go and she looks straight at Gray who has witnessed everything...
As I watch her stand next to Belshka, and then model her new body with an embellished, obviously well-practiced strut, my heart races faster and faster.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?
I am hard - oh god so very hard - as I sit at my computer alone, in my home office. My god my god my god...look at her. She is...yes, fucking breathtaking. Gut-wrenchingly perfect...beyond perfect. But I am suddenly also suddenly panicked. She's...huge. Six-two?!? And she's... coming here?! To be...mine? What - what will people think..?!?
Though beyond this alarm, I am - of course - thrilled with sudden arousal...the thought of being alone, intimate, with this...girl, that's grown into a...a goddess - It's like a fantasy...slowly coming true before my eyes...
But I follow the exchange between her and Belshka...the rough way he speaks to her, and treats her as she sits. My eyes flash in anger: I am protective of her already, I can feel...there is suddenly a lot more in this man I do not like.
"Let her be," I command curtly, as Belshka backs away from her. I try to refocus myself, onto Milenka, as she looks into the camera. I know she is a happy, energetic, upbeat personality - but she is obviously anxious, even scared right now. Like a dog that has just been disciplined.
I feel I can't speak frankly to her, ask her about her treatment, with Belshka still in the room with her. Or, rather, I wouldn't expect frank answers out of her. But - something obviously has to be done.
"Milenka - it's so good to see you again," I say, honestly, smiling into the small camera mounted in my monitor. "So many...changes," I continue, working my best to keep my tone level, almost amused. Out of respect, and my own sense of chivalry, I don't want her to hear my leering or my...awe. "You look...amazing."
She smiles back at me, but it is a shy smile, and she remains quiet. She looks like she is almost expecting another reprimand...from me. I want to put her more at ease. Give her confidence that things are about to improve for her. Seeing the way she is being treated here (and this is Belshka doing this in front of her patron, in front of his own employer) I can only hope nothing worse happens behind closed doors. But again - something needs to change, now.
I hear Mr. Gray's words as he comes to my defense and it makes me smile....Belshka is an overbearing bore at times, and he has his own motives around here...it is also this place, it can make people do and act a certain way....
Mr. Gray said:
"Milenka, it's so good to see you again. So many...changes,you look...amazing."
I look at Belshka and think about this institution....then look back at the monitor, then get excited as this is all I have ever wanted since I was a little girl.....
Nervously....
"Yes, yes I am ready Mr. Gray."
"Awesome, excellent," I reply, "I'm trying to get things ready for you here. I have a room set up for you here, in my home, but I'd totally understand if you want your own apartment for a bit, until...well...the marriage is final. You don't have to answer me now - think about it. You'll be here soon, though...I have your flight booked for Thursday next week. Oh, and the immigration papers are all in order.."
I realize I'm talking fast...too much. I do that when I'm nervous, I know. I take a breath, look at her. How pretty the lock if hair falling across her face from her bun is; how endearing when she blows it away with a "puff". She looks a little more comfortable, again. I'm trying to keep my eyes from wandering to her chest.
"So, I know they're sending you with some clothes, but you'll probably want to go shopping when you get here...I'll have it all arranged. We'll want to show you around town here, help get you comfortable," I continue. I realize again I'm talking too much, and I don't like my tone...so formal., stiff. I'm...not that kinda guy, right? And I know she's not. C'mon, Gray...relax.
"Anyway...your first time to the States, huh? To Cali?" I quip, "what do YOU want to do?"
"So, I know they're sending you with some clothes, but you'll probably want to go shopping when you get here...I'll have it all arranged. We'll want to show you around town here, help get you comfortable. Anyway...your first time to the States, huh? To Cali?" I quip, "what do YOU want to do?"
I can see he is rambling and the way he sounds and even looks, so much like a little boy, it is actually kind of cute....
In an excited tone...
"Shopping, oh yes, of course. Would love to do that and am excited to see America and you Mr. Gray. Is first time. Have lots of questions. So many. You answer, no? Of course I am confused, what is this Cali you refer to? Is this a place? Milenka is, how you say, curus. (She tries to say curious)
"Cali? Oh, uh, yeah...I'm sorry..." I stutter. I knew I was trying to sound too glib, too cool. "Cali...California. It's just a...short way to say it? We..uh, I mean, uh, I...l-live in - well, a little outside of - San Diego. It's...a city." I pause. "...In California."
Her eyes twinkle back at me, in good humor. I know I'm rambling again, and there's something in them, something in the way she's looking at me, that makes me think: she'd be a good mother. And - for some reason - that really turns me on. I mean, yes, I do want to have kids someday. And, yes, KOLECTV told me that with all the hormone and growth enhancements she's been having, she's become very, very...fertile. But...yikes. That look...
"But, good, yeah..." I continue, a little discomfited, "I'm sure you have lots of questions, about what life'll be like here. Anything...in particular? Or...things you'd like to see, do? We're close to the beach. I have a boat...or, I think, three..."
I get excited...
"Ooh, Cali-forn-ya! Oh my, is where I always want to go. Is what I think of as America. Beaches, surfing, sunbating. Ooh, yes Mr. Gray you take me there, no?"
As I get excited, I notice my boobs swell up, almost as if they are getting bigger.....I don't say anything, but somehow I can feel their heaviness at times....I did leak something last night....was that breast milk?? I know Belshka and some of the others here are keeping things from me....of course with Mr. Gray, I smile and continue our conversation.....
I listen to him again.... "But, good, yeah..." I continue, a little discomfited, "I'm sure you have lots of questions, about what life'll be like here. Anything...in particular? Or...things you'd like to see, do? We're close to the beach. I have a boat...or, I think, three..."
"Oh yes, have lots of questions. So many." I get excited again... "Oh, a boat, how wonderful! Oh I picture myself in American bikini, laid down on big towel and taking in sun. I have big sunglasses on while you steer boat and take us to a nice little island."
"Yes, yes," I hear Belshka say, as he appears behind Milenka. His face, head and shoulders are out of the frame; his gnarled hands appear particularly unattractive on her perfect shoulders as they come to rest on them. Immediately the giddy magic in her smile fades, her expression becomes more tense. "Sounds nice, hm? On boat?" he continues, "But what Milenka want most is to serve you. We teach her to do everything the way you like. Cook, clean. Walk, talk..." He gives her shoulders a meaningful squeeze. "...everything."
Milenka gives a wan smile as she looks away from the camera, submitting attention to Belshka, allowing him to talk.
"Milenka will be beautiful American wife, with her big American breasts, on Mr. Gray's boat. In Mr. Gray's kitchen. In Mr. Gray's house. She is - how do you say? - perfect specimen, no? One of most beautiful girls in world, now..."
As Belshka straightens her shoulders I do think - yes - she is a "perfect specimen". So perfectly tall, such a perfect figure. Healthy, and strong. Astonishingly fertile. Perfection, yes. Superior genetics. An ultimate human female. I think on..christ...having her in my house. In my kitchen. In my...<gulp>...bed...after a day on the boat...
"Now," he continues again, "we have one more week with her. How you like now? How you want change? You like her taller? Longer hair?" With that he releases her bun, fluffs out her already long, thick mane. "Bigger breasts? Here, Milenka, sit straight. Out with chest."
With that Milenka straightens, obeying Belshka out of instinct, sticking out her impressive chest as she looks almost bashfully into the camera. To keep from goggling I have to remind myself I am being watched, also. But still, I can't help but trip on my words. "Y-yes...I mean, uh, no. I mean...her last week. Treatments, changes?" I can feel myself flush. "We..we can talk on that later."
"But bigger breasts, yes?" Belshka presses.
"uh..yes...fine..yes..." I admit, chagrined to ask in front of Milenka herself. But, as she turns her eyes away, again, from the camera, I try not to sound sheepish as I ask: "W-would that be okay, Milenka?"
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