Chapter 14

He wouldn't stop kicking me ... even though I had fallen down.

"You think you're better than us wimp?" My attacker spat between kicks. He was big, I was small ... I was young, he was old. I curled up on my side.

"You think just cause you're some kinda freak you can just act like you know everything?" The kicks kept coming ... one after another ... my stomach was in agony.

Bret was a high school senior taking Pre-Calculus, I was a twelve year old, and I sat next to him ... I got a ninety eight on my test ... I didn't see what he got on his ... he put it in his folder too quickly.

This wasn't the first time Bret took his anger out on me...

He kept kicking me ... until I started puking blood.

I woke with a start.

My hand instinctively went to my stomach. It was fine...

I was fine.

I don't sleep very well. Bad dreams are one of the reasons I drink ... falling asleep brings bad dreams ... passing out brings a few hours of bliss ... insomnia was something I'd had as long as I could remember.

I stretched out my stiff limbs ... I was so sore.

I looked around. Why was I in the guest bedroom?

... Sarah...

Oh my god. Sarah was gone ... she wasn't lying next to me ... Shit. I leapt out of the bed.

"Sarah... ? Sarah?" I cried out.

It wasn't until my shouts died that I heard the quiet sobbing. It was subtle ... like it was being repressed. It was coming from the bathroom.

"Sarah? Are you in there?" I asked softly. The sobbing got slightly louder ... I open the bathroom door slowly ... ready to snap it shut if she yelled at me.

The first thing I saw was a long flowing curtain of red hair ... trailing all the way down to the small of her back ... ending just above a perfectly smooth and unblemished alabaster ass.

Sarah was naked, and staring into the mirror ... I couldn't see her front from my position.

"I'm not me anymore..." Sarah said in a strange voice. "How strange is it to wake up in the morning and not be yourself?" Her voice was husky ... and her words were shaky.

I didn't know how to reply. "Sarah, I'm sure you're beautiful ... I'm sure you're still you." I tried to make my voice as firm as possible ... even though it was fraying at the edges.

Sarah gave a small laugh. "I'm beautiful ... I'm more than beautiful ... but the woman staring back at me in the mirror ... isn't me ... it's almost like this was my final surrender ... first my mind is taken and forced to think like a pleasure slave ... then my body was taken ... and made to look like the pleasure slave inside ... I'm not the me I was a week ago ... not in appearance or thought ... and I don't know how to feel about it."

Sarah turns from the mirror and faces me.

"But there is one question I must ask..." She took a deep breath. "Am I perfect for you Jonathan? Do I look like your perfect woman?"

The face peering back at me couldn't be real. It was the kind of face you see on the front of magazines. A face that was airbrushed ten times and then photo shopped twenty more times.

Her skin was the color of marble and it was flawless. It was nothing but an endless expanse of unbroken pale flesh. Her hair was longer, and seemed thicker, and seemed to flow fluidly behind her. Her breasts seemed bigger too, full and shapely, yet without a trace of sag. They, however, did not look too big as to cause back problems on her slender frame. She was my perfect woman ... tailored to my specifications ... existing because I willed it.

I could barely breathe, let alone speak.

"You're perfect Sarah," I said in a whisper.

Her eyes filled with more tears, "Really? I looked at my breasts, they didn't grow as much as you asked ... they're barely a C cup ... I'm not perfect ... something went wrong ... I need to be perfect for you Jonathan, oh god, I need to be perfect."

She was so beautiful, yet so utterly vulnerable. Her green eyes were imploring me to accept her ... needing me to accept her.

I felt the beast of yesterday rise up in my chest.

"You're perfect." I said firmly.

She began to protest again... "But Jonathan, my breasts they're not..."

I clamp my hand over her mouth ... hard, "I said they're perfect, YOU ARE PERFECT, and my name is not Jonathan to you, it's Master."

Her eyes fluttered up into her head, and she melted into my arms, "Oh, yes master," she said dreamily.

I grunted. "Good, what is my name?" I asked gruffly.

She sighed and burrowed her face into my shoulder. "Your name is Master."

I pulled her face away from my shoulders forcefully ... and gazed into her eyes, still glistening with unshed tears. "And what are you?" I said in my cold 'master' voice.

Her eyes never left mine. "I'm perfect Master ... I'm perfect for you ... and that makes it all worth it."

I nodded in assent. "Correct, slave. Now get dressed, Dr. Thompson said he was coming to give you a check up ... so you are hereby given permission to break rule six until he leaves."

She lowered her head, "Yes Master..." she said submissively ... then looked up, with grin on her face, "wouldn't want to give the good doctor a heart attack would we?"

I would have laughed, had I not been in Master mode... "You would give heart attacks dressed in anything, now I said get dressed!" I slapped her on the ass to hurry her along. She squealed ... and hurried to the closet where she kept her clothes.

She produced a pair of jeans and a white button down blouse.

"Jeans are hereby forbidden unless otherwise ordered slave." I said coolly.

She looked up at me ... her face red and flushed with embarrassment. "Yes Master, but I only brought three skirts."

I cocked my head and looked at her. "Sarah, how do you feel about me?"

She looked puzzled... "Master ... um ... I love you ... I thought you knew that?"

I nodded, "Yes, so you have said. Do you want to be physically intimate with me?"

Her eyes dilated ... and her breathing became labored. She looked down ... as if embarrassed by her reaction... "More than anything," She mumbled.

"Even though you've only know me two days?"

"Yes..." she replied again.

"Good, so when you say that it is a problem that you only have three skirts, I only have one question for you. 'How often do you think you will wear clothes at all?'"

Sarah orgasmed.

Not quietly ... not softly ... she SCREAMED. My little slave fell to the floor, and dropped the clothes she had been carrying. I watched her writhe in ecstasy on the floor.

I simply watched her ... feeling like it would break our little scene if I went to her. Slowly she composed herself ... and managed to stand on wobbly legs.

"Sorry, Master," she said... "I don't know what came over me."

I crossed my arms. "Slave, rule nine is that you may not orgasm or masturbate without permission from, me do you understand?"

She frowned slightly. "That's going a little far Master, what if you're away and..."

I scowled at her... "Do you UNDERSTAND slave?"

She nodded, wringing her hands cutely. "Yes Master, I understand."

I waved my hand at her, "Get dressed, and scrub your crotch, you smell like sex, and I don't want the guests to know what a wanton little girl you are.

She lowered her head ... but I saw her smile before she could hide it. "Of course Master."

"I'll be making breakfast today ... don't come down until you're presentable."

I made to exit the room. I turned and looked back once again on the unparalleled beauty the chip had transformed her into.