Chapter Text
“Oh, I think go bigger, no?” The surgeon suggested to my master.
“Hmm…” My master, a very successful, super wealthy, and well-respected man stared at the naked body that I think maybe once belonged to me but had rightfully become his when he purchased me some time ago. “I hate for them to sag though…”
“I assure you that won’t happen. I put in extra stitches and sometimes tiny metal bars in if required. They’ll sit—“ The surgeon hesitated, because he hadn’t been given permission to touch my master’s property, then asked for consent, “May I touch it to demonstrate?”
“Yes, of course,” Master casually allowed him to proceed while waving his hand.
My breasts, which had already been worked on by another surgeon before, were pinched and lifted by this stranger. “I can expand them…” he pulled my nipples out and explained, “…and even with the added weight, I’d only let them drop to about here at the most.” Getting jolted around was stimulating and hurt a little bit, but I made sure not to make a sound. “If you prefer smaller tits I understand, sir, but I tell you as a man who likes big, fat ones, I could make them much larger without any issues.”
“I see.” The surgeon let go of my body suddenly when my master sat up, “I also would like it to have pussy.”
“Ah,” The surgeon leaned down so he could get a better look at my crotch. There was a flat cage squishing the penis my master had previously installed on my body.
“The dicklet was fun for a little while, to tease and whatnot, but I miss the third hole.”
The surgeon laughed, “Understandable. Was it a female to begin with?”
My master snickered, and said, "You know… I can’t remember. Funny that.” I couldn’t remember if I was a boy or girl when he bought me either. My memories of that time are so distant and faded. Almost nonexistent. He placed his strong hand on the small shoulder blade of his sex slave. “I keep changing it. Now I forget.”
“Not a problem, sir. Men like you keep us in business.” That line amused my Master, but I didn’t understand it. That was alright though… My job was not to understand the things that important men talked about. My job was to serve my Master. On that day, I needed to sit there and behave while he met with a smart doctor that could advise him on the best methods of having his slave’s body remodeled again. “So,” the surgeon turned in his chair and began making notes, “How does 500cc and a vaginoplasty sound?”
“Make it 400, it isn’t completely flat as you can see. I don’t doubt your skills doctor, but I am still fearful of the possibility of sagging. I don’t want it to look older than it is.”
“Face lift? Botox?” The surgeon glanced back at us, well, at my master.
Suddenly, my master grabbed my chin and pulled my face up. The direct, intense, analyzing stare he was giving me as he considered those options made me feel dizzy. I would have fainted then and there if I wasn’t aware that my master would not permit such unruly actions from me. “Hm…” He groaned and squinted as he studied my face. My lips were getting routinely plumped and filled. But, perhaps he was seeing some new problem that needed to be fixed. Reaching down, he pinched the space between my eyebrows, then let go. “Not today. It is still youthful enough. In a year or so maybe.”
“Right.” The surgeon went back to his desk and scribbled more notes on a pad of paper. “Do you know how old it is?”
My master chuckled, loudly, “No.”
The surgeon joined him. They both were laughing at me.
That I understood. Mostly.
My age, my name, who I was before were all meaningless. My master already had too much to deal with, there was no need for him to concern himself about irrelevant details about me. I was nothing but my master’s convenient fucktoy. He could reshape me or toss me away whenever and however he pleased. And I was happy to be given the opportunity to please him.
“What’s the damage going to be?”
“Three hundred thousand.”
My master whistled. He was trying to stay calm and collected, but I could tell he was actually annoyed at the number that the surgeon had suggested. He had slipped his hand off my shoulder and gripped his wrist to stop himself from punching the doctor outright. “Are you including a face lift at that price?”
“No, sir.”
“Then, I’ll do a hundred fifty.”
I sat there good and quiet and behaved myself as they started to go back and forth throwing out different numbers. Somewhere in my mind I had a vague recollection of something similar happening when he purchased me, but I can’t imagine the amounts were nearly as high as the ones they were spouting out.
Eventually they agreed on a hundred seventy thousand for the modifications to the body of my master’s slave. We would be coming back another day for the surgeries. I was ordered to dress myself. My master gave him a couple of bills for his time, then snatched his slave and dragged it out of the room.
“Who does that idiotic fucker think he is?!” My master shouted as he shoved his fuck slave into his nice fancy car. “I should’ve just walked. He doesn’t know who the fuck he’s dealing with! Open this goddamn mouth!”
I parted the puffy lips my master was clawing at. He pushed his fingers inside once I did. Seizing my tongue, he pulled and pulled hard until I had no choice but to whimper out a sound.
“Ridiculous.” He tisked, disappointed with me. “I train you day in and day out and you still can’t keep quiet like you’re fucking supposed to. Do you want to be thrown away?”
Panicked, I shook my head. Even as he was holding my tongue.
“Then you better act right!” He looked down at the clothes covering his misbehaving slave’s body. “I hate having to bring you out like a normal person.” I didn’t know what he meant. I had long since forgotten what ‘normal’ even was. “An underground doctor should be more discreet than this… a hundred seventy thousand… Those tits better come back made of fucking gold.”
My master looked around, checking if we had been seen. Apparently we hadn’t but even if we had, he would have had some excuse for what he was doing. So, there wasn’t really any risk for him, abusing what probably appeared to be a ‘normal’ person’ in broad daylight. He was just so angry that he wasn’t even trying to be careful. I felt bad for him. I wanted to comfort him, but I knew it was wrong to talk out of turn. I knew my place.
He glanced at the small thighs in loose jeans in front of him, and then moved one of his fucktoy’s legs to the side. “And that pussy he gives me better be tight… or you better hope and pray it is, you little—“ he pointed up at my face, then stopped and sneered, “—Fuck you.”
With that he stepped back and slammed the car door closed beside me.
“Buckle in,” he ordered after he walked around and sat in the driver’s seat, “I don’t want to have to pay for any damages you might cause.” The subtle reminder that keeping a slave around as long as he had required maintenance, and a lot of money, made me feel guilty. Like maybe he should just throw me away and get a new one. I did as he said and pulled the seatbelt across the useless body of mine that he owned.
He would decide when it was time to get rid of me, it was not right to suggest otherwise. So I didn’t. But, silently, in what was left of my brain, I thought to myself that my master would be better off without me.
With a deep sigh, he started his car. Even though he was frustrated and frankly quite upset with the surgeon, his plan was still to have the requested operations done by him in about a week’s time.
“He does good work,” my master explained to me halfway through the drive home. I hadn’t said anything, but he was justifying his decision nonetheless. Of course, he didn’t need to do that. He didn’t need to warn me in advance that decisions were made about changing his slave’s body. It was his object to do with as he desired. “So, you’ll be fine.”
My master patted my knee, but I couldn’t feel his skin touching me because of the jeans I was wearing. I longed to get out of the ‘normal people’ clothes. They didn’t sit right on a sex slave.
“I think he’ll do better than that other doctor,” he sighed. I didn’t know or remember what he was talking about. Was there a doctor he didn’t like before? Was it someone who did one of the surgeries on me? There was no space for worries like that in my head. “This guy really does specialize in making nice breasts.”
Master eyed my chest, which, I guess, was too small. He groped my boobs all the time and I didn’t realize he was unhappy with them, but apparently he was. That made me feel like such a bad slave. I didn’t even notice my master was settling.
“If you start looking like a grown woman I might be tempted to take you out some time.”
He had just said that he hated bringing me out like a normal person, but then he was switching up his stance on the matter. My master must not have liked how I looked like a boy at the moment. Although, I am fairly sure I was a girl at some point before and he had switched that… So, that reasoning didn’t entirely make any sense. Luckily, it wasn’t my responsibility to make sense of what my master liked or disliked. I just had to accept it as fact. Ever-changing, unreliable, confusing facts.
“‘Do you know how old it is?’” My master quoted the surgeon who had asked him that and laughed, “Do you know how old you are? Hm?”
He was requesting an answer from me.
“…no, Master…”
He nodded, and went quiet. That was the end of the car ride conversation.
Inside his great, big house, which a few maids and servants here and there kept clean, I knelt on the hardwood floor of the front room. “Do you want to take those clothes off?” I did not move. Not a nod or a shake. Because, it wasn’t about what I wanted. He snickered a little, then asked a different question, “Do they make you uncomfortable?” While I was trying to figure out if I should or shouldn’t answer that, my master gripped my hair and jostled my head. He told me what to do, “Speak!”
“Yes—!” I spat out, “—Yes, Master.”
“Hm.”
He scowled down at me, pissed off that I hadn’t replied when he wanted me to.
“Then you’ll stay in them a bit longer,” he released his hold on my head with a toss, “Even though they are quite ugly.” As he backed away from his fuck slave, my master laughed. “Go wait for me outside.”
By that he meant ‘go kneel near the greenhouse’. The one that he had been working on in the backyard on his days off. Still fully dressed, I stood up and promptly walked through his house to the back door. As far as I could tell no one else was there at the time. The staff he employs only come by on certain days, but it was hard for me to know what day it is every day. His days off were my only grounding source, but those can vary from time to time and I don’t understand why.
When he had free time, he filled it up with so many projects around his house that it seemed like he was still working. But, I know he was not because he was home with me instead of away at work.
It was quite simple, but it was all I got to hold on to.
“Get up.” I did as he asked. “Come on. Hold this.” He handed me a large pair of clippers or scissors, I was not sure what they were. Pointy and dangerous. He whacked me over the head before opening the greenhouse door, “Stop looking so stupid. I’m putting you to work right now.” It was so difficult when he asked for more of me than I was capable of giving. “I’ll fuck you later.” That part was easy. I could do that much without causing too many problems. Carrying his tools and assisting him with organizing the layout of his new greenhouse was challenging. It required brain power that I just didn’t have anymore.
He would fuck me later regardless though, so it didn’t really matter how well I did. If I did a good job, he would reward me with sex. If I messed up, he would punish me with sex. It was all a roundabout way to give our meaningless sex some purpose. My master was so silly like that.