Chapter 13: Preparations

I needed to educate myself on the nuances of this Master PC program if I was going to be its sole custodian. I increased my own IQ twice in order to solve problems, and even so I kept the Arnovskys on speed dial with an occasional question.

Stacy was right at my side most of the time.

“Should I open this file?” I asked her once.

“What does it say?” she asked, leaning in. Topless, of course.

“It says, DO NOT OPEN,” I said offhand.

“What did the bank account files say? Did you ask Mr. Arnovsky?” she asked, as if she’d never fucked him.

“Seems like they were some kind of alphabetical code,” I said. “Not sure.”

Stacy was already on the phone.

“Hi! Chuck? Stacy,” she said, sounding much more like the equal I intended her to be. “Dad has a question for you.”

Handing me the phone, I was all business.

“Those bank accounts that made us rich ... how were they slugged?” I asked, oblivious to the tech talk.

“Real tough code. Dollar signs,” he replied.

“That’s all?” I asked.

“Yeah. One, two, three ... each one of them had one more dollar sign, and each account was larger than the next,” he said. “But I think we found them all. What’s your question?”

“Got a file here that says, uh, DO NOT OPEN. Wondered what I should do,” I asked.

“Goddam, if you need to asked,” he laughed. “At worst, save it until last.”

“I can do that,” I said. “Anything else you noticed?”

“Yeah, there was, now that you mention it,” Chuck said. “On more than one of the other computers, there were files named Andrea Belle. I’d leave that alone for sure.”

“Easy enough,” I said. “We’ll turn it that project over to you.”

“Go easy on us,” Chuck said. “You have a scary amount of power at your fingertips.”

“Keep reminding me of that, OK?” I said, cutting off the call at that point.

Indeed, Master PC’s program could seemingly change anyone into anything, limited only by imagination and/or conscience.

Stacy, with a minimum of PC prodding, allowed me to experiment on her body. I took photos to document this stuff for Doc. First, of course, I made double and triple-sure her StacyPrime template was saved, as well as this modified Stacy.

First, I gave her progressively larger breasts, along with supportive back muscles. She would do a few dance moves and if she were able to pull off a move without trouble, we would snap a photo and go up another cup size. We were up to something like HHHs before she was thrown off balance by the sheer volume.

Before we downsized her, we fucked. Of course.

Then we did some funky things, like give her six, then eight, breasts like a fair-haired canine and I checked each for sensitivity. Once restored, she asked for two additional arms and looked incredible wrapped in silk and doing an erotic ballet.

“I’m going to have to do this in a show sometime,” she said as she examined her fingers. “You sure I can’t keep these?”

“How about this?” I said, modifying them. To shock and my amazement, I turned her extra arms into a pair of veiny three-foot-long cocks and had her fill each of her holes with one of them and pumped herself full of freshly made cum as her lymph nodes were turned into testicles. She was able to make herself cum with both arms, then collapsed onto the couch looking like an alien covered with ooze. Made for an interesting picture.

“Uh. That was way too intense,” she said. “But it was still amazing. But I do not want to go through that again.”

As part of that idea, however, I gave her a beautiful, 10-inch long penis and allowed her to enjoy the rest of the day as a dickgirl. She even called Angel Harris and Belle Wilson to come over and play. Angel, who had been missing for a week, was confined to her room, but Belle arrived in record time. The girls were in Stacy’s room for just under two hours when they came out, naked and covered in cum, and Belle asked if she could have one, too.

I granted that request for the remainder of the evening, removing Stacy’s to allow her to receive as well as she obviously gave. Two girls stood there, wide-eyed, as Belle’s new member grew to full length, then they danced back into Stacy’s room when the screaming and moaning began anew.

It was close to midnight when I heard the two friends retire to the shower, and the girls, still nude, but squeaky clean, approached me in the living room as I continued to make notes about each aspect of the Master PC program. I was able to commit all of it to memory straightaway, but I wanted a copy for Stacy.

“Uh, dad?” she asked, shyly, which was unbearably cute in her state of undress. Belle was playing coy – as much as anyone with a two-foot long cock dangling.

“Yeah, babe,” I said, looking up as if weary.

“We were, uh, wondering if you could give me back my penis...”

“Call it a cock, sweetheart,” I said. “It is what it is.”

“I want my cock back, dad,” she said. “We want to go out dancing and maybe pick up some pussy.”

That struck me as funny and erotic at the same time. I laughed and clapped my hands to together.

“That’s an awesome idea,” I said. “But you have to bring them back here.”

“Deal!” both said at once, and Belle went down on her knees to watch Stacy’s dick return. But I made it three inches longer than before, and even thicker.”

“My question is, how are you going to hide those?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“Who said we were?” Belle said, twinkle in her eye. “I was thinking yoga pants under a dress.”

“I’m going with my designer jeans,” Stacy said.

“Go with God,” I said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

“Short list, dad,” Stacy said as she cradled her cock in her arms and headed back to her room to change. They re-emerged a few minutes later and were all dressed to kill. I made a show of busying myself with my book project, but both Stacy and I knew we were now more-or-less linked telepathically, so I’d know everything that went on.

As they left, I gave Stacy, who was wearing a flimsy peasant blouse, a time-delayed command that regrew her two extra arms. I also gave both girls two-foot long tongues. I did not ask, nor did I want to know in advance, where they were headed.

Which, it turned out, was a busy dance club in Bakersfield, Club Odyssey. Crowded, dark and very loud, it was a perfect venue to play with their new toys. Along about 11 p.m., I got a call from Stacy’s cell phone.

“Hi, dad?”

“Hey. Everything OK?”

“That’d be a yes,” she said over the thumping music. “Dad, can you use my phone to get a bearing on our table?”

She meant with Master PC.

“I should. What’s up?”

“I was just thinking ... there’s a Doubletree right next to us, and we’ve hooked up with these drunken college juniors – yeah, girls – and I thought maybe we needed our friend to, you know, make us fit. Or rather, make them fit us,” she said.

“What you need to do is put the phone as close to the middle of them as you can. I’ve got your readings, Belle’s too. But, your ... friends will be picked up – and changed when I type it all in.”

“Gotcha,” she said playfully. “All right, you hot mamas, I want you to lean in close to my cell phone and yell, ‘Hey, Stacy’s dad!’ Ready? One. Two. Three...”

And as they yelled, Master PC got a lock on the images of Honey Whitfield and Marti Ayers.

“Hi, dad?” Stacy picked back up.

“Got them,” I said. “Be very careful. And take lots of photos.”

The last thing I heard was Stacy’s laugh as she cut off her phone. At hat point, I sent her a mental note that I would mind my own business the rest of the night, that she could connect with me in an instant if the need arose.

With that, I drew on my newly enhanced IQ brainstorm for some new stories for my little book series – which was starting to get not so little. My new insight would allow me to subtly put some adult themes in the Peachy Keen Kids stories. To help me get past the temptation to make the new stories overly racy for the series’ devoted fans, I started out by writing a hardcore incestuous story as a “parody” and posted it in one of the erotica sites that still winkied at some forms of kiddie porn. It was a doozy, too, but it served the purpose of allowing me to focus on the series as it needed to move forward.