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Restocking (w/AnnoyingNoob)

Morathor

Morathor

Supernova
Joined
Feb 19, 2012
Location
Midwestern USA
As she came to little by little, the first thing she felt--before she even became fully aware again of her own body--was something hard between her teeth, and a metallic taste on her tongue. As the awareness of the gag in her mouth jolted her awake, she could feel a cold, hard surface beneath her skin, and thick, tight straps (perhaps of leather?) securing her to it at the wrists, ankles, waist and neck.

She had scarcely awoken before a voice called out, "Are you awake over there?" A man came into her field of vision, slightly hunched over as he peered down at her from behind wireframe glasses. He stared down at her, but his vivid green eyes did not meet hers as he examined her face and figure. A thin layer of stubble covered his slightly squared chin, and he had high, prominent cheekbones. His black hair, streaked with silver, was tied back in a braid, but several locks had been left out of it to frame his strangely youthful face.

"That's good," he said. "This part of the job can be a bit tedious. It's nice to have someone to talk to, you know?" He reached down to pat her cheek, then rested his hand on her face. After a moment he slid his palm down her throat and along her bare shoulder. "Not the worst specimen I've ever worked with... now where to begin..."
 
Oh god, oh god where am I? she thought, pulling against her restraints. She felt sluggish, at least physically. Her mind, on the other hand, was running a mile a minute. Where was she? Why was she here? What, exactly, was this man going to do to her? A shiver ran down her spine as she looked up at the man, her eyes wide and begging for some sort of explanation.

There were always rumors about mysterious disappearances floating around, but they were absurd and contradictory so she had paid them no mind. Could they be true? If they were, which ones? Had she been abducted so that this man could harvest her organs? Was he just some sick sociopath who wanted to cut her up? Was he... One of the rumors told of thugs abducting people so that their faces could be taken off, that people who didn't have the money to have their own faces reshaped would buy them. Could that be it?

She was, if anything, rather plain, although she had always felt she was rather unattractive. Her face was round, the tip of her nose had pointed to the right ever since she had broken it several years ago, her pale skin was largely obscured by a thick layer of freckles and she knew she looked haggard, dark rings under her eyes and all. Her hair, something she had always tried to take pride in, was a tangled brown mess that hung down just below her shoulders.

Maybe the buyer was working on a budget. Whatever the reason, she clumsily tried to pull herself out of her restraints, but shrank away from the man when he touched her. She tried to speak, to beg him to leather go, but her gag kept her from doing so.
 
"No, I know, you can't talk back. Just as well, I doubt you have anything interesting to say." His hand continued down her body, grabbing and roughly squeezing her breast. He shook his head. "No good, even for a petite. That's malnourishment for you I suppose. The skin is hardly worth touching either. Freckles are a nice touch though. I think... soft, more than smooth. What do you think?" He glanced idly at her face, though once again he didn't bother meeting her eyes. He glanced back down at her torso and spread his hand, firm fingertips tracing over her flesh. "Tox screens came back clean. Good for you. And very convenient for me. Sometimes it takes weeks to flush a girl's system, you know? With you we can get started right away."

He ran his hand up her arm, occasionally wrapping forefinger and thumb around the scrawny limb or pinching loosely at her skin. He sighed. "We're really pretty much going to have to start from scratch with you. Well, actually your bone structure is quite good... I don't think we're going to need to do anything too extreme. Hormone treatments, touch up the face, and you'll be ready for training." His eyes lit up and he beamed down at her with a vicious grin--the first real expression he had shown so far. "Won't that be fun?" he asked, almost growling.
 
She flinched as he handled her breast. She would have tried to scoot farther away from him, but the thick straps holding her down made that impossible. So he really is going to cut me up, and there's no way I can stop him. If- if he takes the gag off, I could bite my tongue of. It- it must be a horrible way to go, but at least I won't be here... His question brought her back for a moment, her fear and thoughts distracting her too much for her to focus on his words for long. Soft more than smooth? Did- did I miss something?

The rest of what he said blurred together for her. Tests made sense, you didn't want your client having an adverse reaction. Hormone treatments and touch ups; I suppose he plans on using all of me th-

She froze as he finished his sentence. No, no it can't be! Even when I was sick and starving I never went that low! If she had looked frightened before, the look she had after that momentary 'I understand now' look was one of abject terror. She pulled against the straps holding her down with all her might, squirming and kicking. She knew she couldn't free herself, that she couldn't escape, but she had to try. She had to try.

"Won't that be fun?​
 
"I know," he said eagerly as she thrashed at her restraints. Then his grin faded a little. "Something to look forward to." Within seconds boredom had again overtaken his expression. He paced down to the end of the table and ran a hand along her leg. At first he was squeezing and pinching as he had done with her arm, but then his touch softened as he stroked her inner thigh. He had to test her sensitivity, after all. He could gather some of that information from her genome, and mood and psychology were certainly factors (which he would enjoy reshaping, but that was later). Sometimes, though, it was best to just put his hands on the new stock and see how they responded. He ran his palm back and forth a few times, before his fingers crawled upward to her groin. Carefully, delicately, he ran a finger along her labia, eyes on her torso and face.
 
She continued thrashing about as he pinched and prodded her legs, though her struggles wound down as he reached her thighs. She was taking slow, deep breaths now, her struggling having tired her. She shivered and twitched involuntarily as his palm passed over her inner thigh. She tried to lift her head to look at him, but the strap around her neck kept her from lifting it far enough to do anything more than catch a brief glance of her tormentor. Then she felt his hand traveling even farther, exploring her groin and running along her labia. She froze when she felt him there, finally still for long enough to be embarrassed by her nudity. He'd seen just about every inch of her now, not that he hadn't been able to see it all for a while now. Her small breasts, her unshaven crotch, her lanky, awkward body... She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing and ignore him as much as she could.

But she couldn't steer her thoughts away from the situation she found herself in. Why do I feel so embarrassed by it all? Being naked? Sure, but... why the rest? She tried her best to remain still, to not respond to his touch, but she couldn't resist forever. Every couple strokes she would flinch, or twitch, or just shiver. It was so intimate that, even without any reason for it to arouse her, it did. Not much under the circumstances, but the thought of him seeing that was mortifying.
 
His interest started to return as she twitched and shuddered under his touch. He smiled felt the warmth between her legs. "Very nice... you're a natural for this line of work. Do you have any experience?" He reached for her face, thinking to remove her gag and get an answer, but then thought better of it. She could still bite her tongue and ruin all this--that was what the gag was there for, after all. Although he intended to make that a non-issue before too long, his eyes lit up as a new idea for a modification occurred to him. How had he not thought of this before? The customers would love it, and he'd certainly have a lot of fun with it... Excited by the thought, he patted the woman on the cheek before turning his attention back to her groin. He knelt down to get a better look, then took her bony hips in both hands and spread her labia with his thumbs, peering into her passage. "Have you put this to good use before?"
 
She kept silent through his questions, even though they were obviously rhetorical. She wanted to kick him, bite him, do whatever she had to to escape, but there was no way she could. When she felt his hand pat her cheek she sucked in a sharp breath. what was he- she flinched again when he grabbed her hips, though he managed to avoid doing so when he spread her labia. She could feel his breath on her now, though whether it was intentional or not she couldn't say.

She would have rolled her eyes at his question if they were open. Is he hoping to check for himself or does he actually expect me to answer? Still, the question briefly brought back memories she'd prefer to leave undisturbed. She'd come close to going all the way a long time ago with her first boyfriend, but things had fallen apart quickly. That very same night, not ten minutes after they had awkwardly gotten dressed again they'd exploded at each other and things were never the same afterwards. She was tempted to jab him in the stomach for bringing that back, but she knew even before trying that the straps were too tight.
 
"Ah well," he said after a moment, letting go of her. "A pity. Well, natural talent or not, I suppose you're not pretty enough to be more than a cheap trick. Can't make much of a living off that, so what's the point? But don't worry." He walked out of her line of sight. "When I'm done with you, you'll be a top-dollar whore. People pay thousands of dollars a night for the services we provide." There was a slight squeak, and soon he came back wheeling a tray with syringes, scalpels, and more bizarre instruments, from which hung a number of IV bags. "Not that you'll see any of the profits, but it'll be something to be proud of. It's important to take pride in your work, don't you think?" He held up one of the syringes.
 
She was grateful when the man let go of her, though the feeling was short lived. Her stomach turned over when he continued to talk about her new life life. Christ, why does he have to do this? If he'd just put me under, let me drift away... No, I don't need to go through that again. Maybe this is better. She finally opened her eyes when she heard a squeaking sound. Had he left? Her heart plummeted when she saw him return, then jumped into her throat when she saw what he had brought with him. The full force of what he had meant when he said 'when I'm done with you' hit her like a ton of bricks. No, dear God no! Please don't make me a freak, please don't make me a freak, please don't make me a freak...

Her face was the palest it had ever been, her eyes the widest, and she even began to sweat, but she didn't thrash about or try to escape. It was over now.
 
He grinned at her expression, then reached down and took her chin in his hand. He tilted her head up, exposing her neck. Although she couldn't see it and probably couldn't feel it, there was a small hole in each of the straps that bound her, just large enough for the point of a syringe and aligned neatly with a major vein. Aligning the needle with the hole, he plunged the syringe into her jugular and emptied it into her neck.

The injection was like fire being poured into her veins, and the pain spread quickly through her circulatory system. With every beat of her heart it expanded, until it had reached even her furthest extremities. The burning sensation lingered for several minutes, before fading somewhat into a persistent tingle. Her entire body was pins and needles. The man just watched, staring into her face with fascination.
 
As tense as she was the needle was painful enough for her to almost jerk away. No need to do that, it'll jus- but whatever had been injected into her was far worse. She hadn't made much noise so far, but that ended now. She desperately tried to escape, to clutch the spot where the needle at been inserted, to just curl up in a ball and wait until the pain was gone, howling as if she had been lit on fire. Soon enough her face, and the rest of her for that matter, lost their normally pale complexion instead becoming a bright red. She was faintly aware that her exertion was heating her up, that the straps were chafing and starting to cut into her, that her breaths were so fast and deep that she was on the verge of hyperventilating but none of it mattered for now, only finding a way out.

After what felt like hours to her the pain dimmed and she slowly came to her senses. She was beat red and covered in sweat. Her neck, thighs, ankles, anywhere she was strapped down still burned but not as much as before. She tried to steady her breathing, wincing as she felt the pain of her worn out lungs. She looked around deliriously, her chest heaving, trying to find the man who had been there before, who had never really left. Maybe this was it, maybe it was over and she could rest now. Her whole body tingled but her back, her ass, her thighs and calves burned the most, all of which were agitated by the table she lay on.
 
The man sighed contentedly as her muffled screams and restrained struggles came to a stop. "That was lovely, my dear. I take it the burning has stopped? Just nod." Despite his request, he turned away without looking to see if she nodded or gave any sort of response. "The next bits are boring, I'm afraid. Just have a few things to hook up..." He grabbed a couple of the IV bags, glancing at their labels before taking the tubes affixed to them.

He hummed a little as he drove a needle into her right wrist, then her left. These caused no pain beyond the simple penetration of her flesh, but the rest of the IVs were not so innocuous. He poked two needles into her waist, then one into her throat, slipping it relatively painlessly into the same hole he had already piercing. Each one gave her an electric jolt, followed by a sense of numbness in its vicinity--strange gaps in the tingling which still consumed her body. The next needle went into the back of her neck, near her spinal cord; this one sunk tiny mechanical claws into her flesh to hold itself in place before shocking and numbing her. The last IV was plunged into the center of her chest, in a slight crevice formed by her breastbone and two ribs. It too latched onto her with hooks before giving her a jolt.
 
Her vision still clearing, she nodded as he had requested. Then she felt the needles poked into her wrists and she jumped, ready for more torment but quietly relieved when their was none. She jumped again each time one of the needles gave her a jolt, more relieved than frightened. She wanted to close her eyes again as tired as she was from her struggling, to forget about what the needles must be doing and just drift off but before she could do so she had to at least try to get an answer. Rolling her head slightly so as to look at her tormentor she tried her best to give him a questioning look. She probably looked more dopey than anything else but it was worth a shot.
 
He turned back to the tray to retrieve more tools. When he turned around, this time holding a small mechanical device in each hand--one a hair trimmer, the other something unrecognizable that was blinking at the tip--he noticed the look in her eyes. "...did you want something?" He leaned over her, setting the trimmer down next to her head before putting two fingers on either side of her eye. He spread her eyelids wide and stared at her pupil for a second, then shrugged and let go. "Do you have a question? I'm not ready to ungag you, you know."
 
She would have sighed if she had the energy but instead she just rolled her head back to where it had been, looking up at the ceiling and closed her eyes. Just drift off now, just drift off...
 
He took up the trimmers again, and after a moment's hesitation put the other, slimmer device in his mouth. He thought he might need both hands for this... although it looked like she was trying to sleep. He wasn't going to go out of his way to stop her--he was bored as well, and if he didn't have work to do he'd be drifting off. Still, he couldn't have her squirming. So he clamped one hand over her face, holding her head still as he began to shave her. His fingers were long and thin, and his skin was very smooth and smelled faintly of cinnamon.

Once the last lock of hair fell from her head, he let go of her face, but did not lay aside the trimmers yet. Instead he shaved her groin, taking care not to cut or nick her, although at one point the vibrating blades pressed against her tingling slit. When he was satisfied with that, he turned off the trimmers and tossed them haphazardly onto the tray, taking the other tool out of his mouth. He ran its glowing tip along her thigh, leaving a strange heat in its wake, and then a slight chill as the hair follicles died. He ran the little wand over her legs, arms, lips--nearly every inch of skin he could reach. He left a small patch above her vagina unmolested, though he did carefully trace out an elegant triangle for a tuft of hair to grow. Similarly, he took the tool to her face, shaping her eyebrows and hairline to his liking.

When he was finally done, he set the device down and took a step back, surveying his work.
 
When his hand clamped down over her face her breathing quickened but she remained still, at least until she felt him begin to shave her. She trembled, trying to focus on the cinnamon smell of his hand and its smoothness, but she couldn't. She could feel tears building up but resolutely refused to cry. Their was nothing she could do about it now, and nothing good would come if her trembling caused the man to mess up. In a similar vein she twitched when he shaved her groin, biting her lip as he did so to focus herself, to keep herself from jumping.

Then came that feeling, that hot and cold feeling all over her body. It was relaxing really, and it helped her drift closer and closer to the oblivion. If she could just sleep...

She was subconsciously aware of the fact that he had avoided a small patch above her vagina, and that he had carefully worked on her eyebrows and hairline, something that should have told her what he was doing. But she didn't care to think about it now, she was tired of all of this and sleep was all that mattered. As she drifted off her breathing slowed and the rise and fall of her chest finally evened out, no longer quickening or slowing down.
 
It was hard to say how long she slept--not more than a few hours, certainly--before a jolt of electricity from the needles in her neck, chest, and waist woke her. But, painful and sudden as it was, it faded after just seconds, subsiding to the mix of tingling and numb spots she had felt before. The man was nowhere to be seen, and nothing else seemed to be happening, at least for a while. Some time later--there was no reference point to keep track of time, but it had to have been at least an hour--there was another jolt. Then, perhaps the same amount of time later, another. And another.

Periodically the man came back to switch out IV bags and look over her quizzically, although he didn't touch her. Still, the varying sensations plaguing her body--the leather straps, the metal table, the needles, the tingling and the shocks--were becoming sharper. The tingling was gradually fading away in most of her body, but in others it was becoming more and more intense. Her nipples, her vagina, and oddly her tongue all seemed to be constantly prickling. It was also, little by little, becoming harder to breath as her chest felt heavier and heavier. Her breasts were tender, never quite sore but always subtly aching.

It was days, perhaps weeks later, when suddenly the man yanked the IV from her throat. "I think we're done," he proclaimed. "Are you ready to see?"
 
The wait was horrible, and it only became more and more agonizing as feeling returned. She slept when she could but was frequently woken by the jolts. She decided that, for the sake of sanity, each pulse meant that three hours had passed. She had no idea whether that was true or not but having something to focus on helped ease her mind. Near the end of her ordeal though it hardly mattered. The tingling in her nipples, her vagina and even her tongue kept her on edge. It came in waves; first she became aroused, then she felt the feeling fade, day in and day out the cycle continued. She had wondered how she hadn't starved or died of thirst but chalked it up to the IV in her throat fairly early on.

Then the man finally removed the IV's. They hurt coming out but it wasn't so bad. When he asked her if she was ready to see herself again her heart sank. Today's the day then. She waited a moment, expecting him to continue without an answer as he always had but when he didn't she slowly nodded. She nodded but her eyes said otherwise. Today is the beginning, the beginning of... something. Maybe I'll finally be rid of this gag. She would have smiled if it were possible. Sometimes the little things help a lot.
 
He looked down at her for a few moments, then shook his head. "You know... most people are so used to thinking of humans as the baseline, the default, that they fail to realize those regards in which we are extraordinary. Durability, for example. Hardly anything on the planet can endure and recover from injury like a human. Except, now, for people like you. People who have been modified and rebuilt to withstand whatever our customers can throw at them, then get right back up and welcome the next with a smile." He leaned down next to her. "You're probably wondering why I'm telling you this. It's so you understand, that suicide is all but impossible. Bite your tongue, slit your wrists, you won't bleed out. Not before we can find you and save you, anyway. You'll just suffer until you're healed. And then you'll suffer more. Are we clear?" He reached down to remove her gag. As he did, his fingertips lightly brushed her skin, and that slight sensation was far more intense than it should have been.
 
She listened quietly, her heart only sinking further the longer he continued. Not even something as desperate as suicide could end this now. And suffer more. How exactly? This was already her own, very personal hell.

As he removed the gag from her mouth, she quivered. Oh God no, he couldn't have- Things had just gone from nightmarish to hellish. She opened her mouth to respond but stopped short. She couldn't risk it. If he had changed her voice... well, she might have to find out what was worse than this hell. Instead she nodded mutely, avoiding eye contact.
 
One by one he undid the straps, relishing the feel of her skin under his hands. Where before she had been coarse to the touch, now she was so soft he felt as though she would melt under his fingertips. When her straps were removed, he took her by the wrist pulling her up from the metal table and into a sitting position. He didn't expect much resistance; she had barely moved in days, and although the electrical jolts had kept her muscles from atrophying (among their other purposes) he figured she was probably still too wobbly to run or fight effectively. And with the sensations she must be feeling from his firm grasp, well... he took her other arm and hauled her to her feet.
 
She almost cried when he undid the straps. It had been so long since she'd been this free. As he pulled her up she felt an intense... sensation run through her. It was too intense to really come to grips with in any way. She would have sworn she had felt nothing if she hadn't trembled at his touch. As she was hauled to her feet she made her best effort to stand, her legs trembling. So much so that she was sure she would have fallen without his help. She bit her lip, struggling to at least look like she could stand on her own, more for her own sake than anything else. When she was satisfied that she was "standing" she looked at the man and nodded again.
 
He nodded back and, putting a hand under her arm (which was just as intense as the touch to her wrists, if not more so) he guided her to a large mirror sitting nearby. He smiled at her reflection. "What do you think?"

Practically the only thing recognizable were her freckles, and her own eyes peering out of this face in the mirror. Her crooked nose had been fixed, her lips were fuller and pinker, and her cheekbones were higher. Her tangled brown hair had been replaced with a full head of glossy auburn locks. Her hair was not very long yet, but far longer than it should have grown in the time she'd been restrained. Her skin under the freckles was still pale--paler, even.

But those features were practically unchanged, compared to her figure. Her limbs were not much thicker, but instead of scrawny and stick-like they were now toned and elegant. Her hips were no wider, but they were rounder and smoother. Her breasts were nearly twice as big, plump and tender, and her rosy nipples seemed perpetually erect.

The man examined her reflection as well, as though he was seeing this body for the first time and not been watching it form, making it form, day by day. "You'll make a killing out there."
 
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