Consciousness came slowly to her, and with it a sense of sudden dread. Something was very wrong, she could feel it in her gut, but at first she could not pinpoint what it was. As the drugs in her system wore off, her mind cleared and clarity flooded her system.
Her first instinct was to run. It seemed to be a leftover reaction, as though it was the last thing she had wanted to do before she fell unconscious, but the tight bondage in which she found herself prevented any such attempt. Next, she tried to scream, and only then did she feel the ball gag wedged between her teeth. It was too big for her, and her jaw soon began to ache as saliva dribbled down her chin.
Breathless and panicking, she forced herself to calm down. As her heartbeat slowed, she tried to take stock of the situation, to remember how she had come to be here. Before she had blacked out, she recalled large figures, a metallic glint, and the smell of powerful aftershave. Her memories were jumbled, wrestling with one another for position in her confused mind, and she fought to order them.
She had been in a back alley, somewhere on the outskirts of town. Alice had been there too, her associate. They had met to discuss the string of missing persons. Five women missing in as many weeks, no apparent connection between them. The police investigations into all of them had been suspiciously lacking. No witnesses, no leads, all wrapped up as unsolved barely days after they had begun. She had been a journalist for long enough to know corruption when she saw it.
She had been close to a breakthrough, she was sure of it. She had a lead on a witness, somebody the police had never even bothered to interview. An anonymous tip-off, too – all the women had been witnessed with a man before their disappearance. Not the same man, different every time, but always in a suit and always of an athletic build. But she couldn’t afford to get on the wrong side of the police, not until she had it all in print. Her story would be her protection. Until then, she might as well have been a fugitive. With Alice in tow, she had been ready to meet with her witness. And now she remembered: the syringe had been buried in her arm and the contents emptied before she even had time to think. Holding it, a large figure who threw her over his shoulder and marched away. As unconsciousness had overwhelmed her, the aroma of his aftershave had filled her nose.
The room she now found herself in was shadowy, built from grey stone and lit only by a small skylight and a single lamp that washed her with feeble light, reflecting off her… latex? For the first time, she looked at herself and the panic returned. What had been done to her? Her once flat chest was dominated by swollen, heaving breasts crammed into a tight, red latex corset to boast her ample cleavage. She could feel curves like she had never had before and the corset splayed out at the waist. Beneath it, her bare pussy was visible beneath sleek pantyhose, a single rope pulled up uncomfortably between her legs until it parted her lips. Tall red heels had been carefully placed on her feet, and as she began to thrash around wavy red locks swung across her face, whereas before she had only had a platinum bob. Even without the heels she was undoubtedly taller. Despite her predicament and the fear that roared through her, something about her new body aroused her: the weight on her chest, the shine of the latex, the smooth shaved flesh of her legs, her pussy. Before long, she was wet, and she wrestled against her bonds all the harder, as much to distract herself as in an effort to escape.
‘Gentle now, my clients prefer their goods undamaged.’ The voice came from the shadows at the other end of the room, and had a soft malice to it. A man – tall, raven-haired and dressed in a pristine three-piece suit – emerged from the darkness. ‘I pride myself on the quality of my product.’
Something about his stare froze her, and she returned it with eyes full of fear.
He approached slowly, cold eyes running up and down her perfect figure. There was a glint of lust in his eyes, but it was overwhelmed by a sadistic gleam. In his hand he clutched a paper folder. ‘Miss Jamie Camp. I’ve heard a lot about you in the past few weeks. You’ve been treading on my turf. I must confess, there is some good work in here. Very good. Your work contributed to the incarceration of the Connors brothers, I see. Impressive. If you weren’t in the habit of investigating my own business, I might admire you.’ He snapped the folder shut and threw it aside, his tone dripping with danger. ‘But that is your habit, Miss Camp, and I do not tolerate anybody treading my turf. You overstepped the line, and unfortunately for you that is not something I can allow.’
Fighting to ignore her moistening pussy, she spat something around her gag. Sighing, the man reached up and unbuckled it, tossing it over to join the folder.
‘You were saying?’
‘If you’re going to kill me, you’ll land yourself in even more troubles.’
The man frowned, genuinely perplexed. ‘Kill you? Why in the world would you think I am here to kill you?’
‘That’s what you did to the other women. Seduced them, stalked them, whatever you want to call it. Then no doubt drugged them and dragged them here, like you did me.’
He smiled then, a cold grin. Crossing his arms, he raised an eyebrow. ‘Please continue, fascinate me with your deductions.’
That grin unnerved her, and suddenly she felt as though she were treading water out at sea, and he was the shark circling beneath her. ‘Well,’ she went on, ‘I reckon you must have some coppers in your pocket to get the investigations shut down so quick. And an accomplice too.’
‘Must do. Tall as you are, you weren’t the one who abducted me last night, and you don’t match the description of the man seen with all the women before they went missing.’
‘I’ve read your file, remember? All different men, according to your notes.’
‘With a near identical build. Prosthetics and make-up can make you look like different people easy enough these days, but it’s more difficult to change your body type without a site more work. Besides, most women would prefer the athletic sort; probably makes them easier to seduce.’
The grin widened. ‘And I suppose you believe that I dramatically alter the body type of my victims just for fun? And that I spend time with my accomplice doing their make-up?’ Her mouth opened and closed uselessly. ‘My dear, you are wrong in almost every respect, however those in which you are right are a valuable lesson to me I assure you.’
‘Then explain what happened to those women.’
He strode up next to her, so close she could smell his deodorant. ‘Do you really want to know? I’m not sure if you do, you know. I don’t know if you can handle it.’
‘Why would I not?’ she panted, the feel of his breath on her ear sending electricity up and down her spine.
‘Because,’ his hand descended and closed over her groin, tearing a moan of pleasure unbidden from her lips, ‘judging by the fact you are dripping wet right now, I’d say you won’t have long before you find out in person.’
His fingers teased her clit gently, sending waves of ecstasy crashing through her system. ‘What do you mean?’ she said breathlessly, barely able to focus on his words. Removing his hand, he stepped away, and without even realising it, she opened her mouth to whisper two words. ‘Don’t stop.’
Stood facing her, the man smirked at her confusion.
‘Why did I say that?’ she asked.
‘Because, as I said, you were wrong in almost every respect. The police were not paid off, at least not in cash. Your disappearance will not endanger me or my operation. And most importantly, I did not kill those women. I remade them.
‘You see, Miss Camp, my clients have very specific needs, needs which I cater for. In vulgar terms, I provide them with sluts. Their interest in these women are none of my concern, and my units have gone on to be everything from trophy wives to personal sex slaves. What I do concern myself with is their requirements. Some like brunettes, others blondes, some go for curves, others prefer a more petite slut. I develop their slut for them, and provide it to them for a handsome fee. Our DNA recoding serums are both fast-acting and highly effective, meaning we can completely alter the physical appearance in a matter of days without any need for surgery. Trust me, our serums would make the Kardashians cream themselves. My services not only include physical alterations, but mental recoding too: I strip them of their memories, provide them with an entirely new slutty personality, and off they skip, ready to serve their new master in whatever sexual desires he may have. It is a highly lucrative business, I assure you.’
‘You’re a monster.’
‘I am a businessman. And if I say so myself a good one at that. Naturally, given the disappearances of the women I work with, the chief of police was one of my very first clients, and a number of his officers have since been provided with their own little cock-sucker at a discounted price. Even when paying people off, I managed to turn a profit, and I was able to cover my tracks in the process.’ He paused, glared at her. ‘At least, so I thought. Then you came along and began unravelling my activities. Not as accurately as you thought, obviously, but people like you snooping where they shouldn’t be is dangerous any way you slice it. I had to put a stop to that.
‘As a result, tomorrow morning, one of the city’s officers will find a handful of bodies in the warehouse district hideously disfigured beyond recognition. These bodies will be transported to the mortuary, where they will be confirmed as all of the missing women including yourself via DNA matches provided by the chief medical examiner himself, who was recently provided with a delightfully flexible blonde whore by myself for his co-operation in this matter. He also politely offered us a few stiffs from his morgue to use in our little cover-up. Possessions of your witness, by the name of one Mr. Adrian Barker, I believe, will be located on the scene, and he will be found to have fled his apartment and be placed on the force’s most wanted list. Meanwhile, my associates will be working on mentally recoding Mr. Barker ready for delivery to one of our gay clients. The police will release a statement explaining that they were engaging in undercover operations after their initial investigations were closed, which culminated in the discovery of the missing women. Moving forwards I shall ensure I do not over-farm any one area in order to maintain a low profile, and will endeavour to set up additional locations of work in order to farm over a wider area.’
‘All that doesn’t deal with the anonymous tip. Even I don’t know who that was.’ She was trying desperately to act defiant, but the panic was beginning to rise again. Despite this, the pleasure of her new form was beginning to overwhelm it. Her breasts felt so hot as they rubbed up against the tight latex, and her eyes kept wandering down to the man’s groin, wondering how big he was underneath.
‘Oh that was me. I had to flush out anybody else you had trusted with the information. Since I already knew you had a witness, and you hadn’t gone to the police with it, I assumed you must be waiting to use your story as protection. If you had an associate, sooner or later you would meet up with them. I’ve had my people watching you for weeks now, so it was little effort for them to follow you to that back alley.’
In her horny stupor, she had forgotten entirely about Alice. ‘Alice! That’s it. She knows people, just like me. She’ll blow your operation wide open.’
The man sucked air in through his teeth. ‘You know you might be right, if it weren’t for the fact she is currently blowing one of my clients about three doors down the hall.’ Jamie’s face dropped like a stone. ‘I’m told she’s good as well; very enthusiastic. I think I might keep her as one of our in-house units. We like to let our clients test the merchandise, a try before you buy sort of thing. I’m sure she’ll fit in very well.’
Jamie could feel an orgasm beginning to build within her, and it was getting increasingly difficult to think straight. All she could focus on were her hot tits, the tight clutch of the latex as though it was groping her, the soaking rope that rubbed against her clit feeling so… fucking… good.
‘What is happening to me?’ she groaned, her legs starting to shake as the pleasure mounted yet further and she felt her own juices begin to dribble down her thighs.
‘Ah, my favourite part. Usually we apply the mental recoding at the same time as the DNA serum. It doesn’t take much: a cocktail of pheromones, some audio programs, occasionally some visuals. Most of the women are awake when we change them. I’m sorry you had to miss out on the sensation of us transforming your body. Personally though, my favourite part is watching the mind break. Watching as everything you once were leaks out of you and is replaced by a new slut. I didn’t get to see your friend change: we needed a new slut quickly, so she underwent the whole process while she was drugged. But you, I wanted to see you break.’
‘What… are… you… unh… fuck… talking about?’
‘You’ve been drugged for a few days now, that’s when we pumped you full of the DNA serum. But I wanted to wake you up to see you change. See the look in those beautiful eyes as Jamie Camp simply ceased to be. About two hours ago I personally tied you up, played you the audio programs and doused these ropes, this latex in pheromones. It takes a little while to kick in, but right now I’d say you have, hmmm,’ he glanced at his watch, ‘about thirty seconds. Say goodbye, Miss Camp.’
‘Wait… no…’ she struggled, ‘my editor… he’ll know I went missing… me and Alice… he’ll find you… show you to the whole laughing world…’
The man grinned wider. ‘You haven’t figured it out yet, have you? How do you think I knew you had a witness? Once I knew you were getting too close I visited your editor. Had a little chat. Learned what he might hypothetically look for in a sex slave. His answers were very interesting: tall, red hair, big tits, tight holes for him to use…’ his eyes flashed with menace, ‘and a particular love of red latex and pantyhose.’
Somehow, the look of pure sadism that painted his features drew a long moan from her lips, the most sexual sound she had made in her life.
‘In a few days’ time your editor will run a story detailing this whole case. Including how two of his own reporters were tragically murdered when they came too close to uncovering Mr. Barker as the serial killer of five recently abducted women. And you, my dear, will be under his desk sucking his cock like a mindless little slut.’
Her moans grew louder, more animal as she began to grind against the rope, desperate for release. Less and less she cared about the story, the truth: all she wanted was to kneel down and take the man’s dick in her mouth. All she wanted was it in her pussy, her ass. All she wanted was to be an obedient slave.
What little remained of Jamie Camp clung on just long enough to ask one final question. ‘Who… are you?’
The man leaned in and whispered in her ear. ‘I’m the man who just killed Jamie Camp.’
Beside him, the woman came hard, squirting around the rope and soaking her pantyhose even further. She shook with the effort, and her sweaty skin shone as slick as the latex in which she was encased.
‘Who is Jamie Camp, sir?’ asked the woman in a sing-song voice. ‘Is she a prude, sir? Is that why you got rid of her?’
Smiling, the man nodded. ‘Exactly, little girl.’
She looked down at her sweaty breasts and shook them, giggling excitedly. ‘I love my big titties, sir. Look at them jiggle. Do you like my titties, sir?’
‘I do indeed, but I know somebody who will like them even more. He very much wants to meet you, and guess what? He is going to be your new master. He bought you specially. Would you like to meet him?’
The woman squealed with delight. ‘Oh, yes please, sir. I can be his little slut. I’ll do whatever he likes I promise. I’m so horny sir, when can I meet him?’
‘Just a moment, I’ll untie you.’ With deft, experienced fingers he released the many knots in quick succession until she was stood in front of him. ‘And one final thing,’ he produced a lipstick from his blazer pocket, ‘he chose your name as well. He called you Scarlet. So how about you put on this scarlet lipstick so that when you have sucked him off he knows just who did it?’
‘Oh yes, sir, I love that idea.’
‘I thought you might. Now you put that on and I will go and fetch him.’
Scarlet stood applying the lipstick with dainty fingers as the man vanished into the shadows. As she did so she imagined the taste of her master’s cum on her tongue, the feel of it dripping down her face, and the pain of it stretching her little pussy, her tight, tiny asshole, and pumping his seed deep inside her. A moment later, a door slammed closed and dispelled her thoughts.
The man was talking to somebody else, and both of them were coming towards her. ‘Right this way, sir,’ he was saying, ‘your slave is ready to see you now. She can’t wait to meet you.’
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