SUZI IS INTRODUCED TO TED

Michael surprised me last night with a new pair of ballet boots. He said they were a treat because I’d done such a good job for Tony last week. He was right, I did. I worked for him four days in a row, which saved his company a lot of money. By the time they disconnected me from the machine, I was nearly crazy from stimulation. Tony promised me he would let me come back and work for him again in a few weeks.

The ballet boots are bright red and they lace all the way up my thigh. He had them specially made by the apprentice of a man who makes custom clothes for everyone from bikers to rock stars. The man initially said no, he’d never seen anything like me before. He’d worked with bondage freaks before but never with anyone whose body had been so thoroughly changed as mine. Michael laughed. He told the man – Daniel – that they weren’t done with me and that they would have plenty more business for him if he would work with us. The man turned us over to one of his apprentices, a young woman who didn’t seem to care who she was working for as long as she got paid.

He helped me into the boots then told me to put something on because we were taking a drive. I went to the closet and took one of my dresses off a hangar. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but all of my dresses are the same now – high necked, long sleeved things made of a clingy nylon fabric. They flare out from the waist to accommodate my huge bottom and end just a few inches above the knee. The dress is actually rather modest in cut, but with my body inside of it, it’s pornographic. Michael did provide me with different colors – burgundy, black, and red – and he lets me choose whichever color I want.

I followed him to the car and we pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t recognize the route we were driving, it wasn’t one of the places we’d gone before. I asked him about it but he didn’t answer just changed the subject.

We pulled into the driveway of a ranch house in the suburbs. It was well kept and I could see that he had a big building out back. I guessed I’d be spending time there. I turned out to be right, but not on this visit. Michael came around and opened the door for me, like a gentleman. He led me to the front door and rang the bell. The man who answered was middle aged with thinning hair and a pleasant face. He was casually dressed, tan pants and a light colored shirt, wearing brown deck shoes. I liked him right away, he seemed really nice.

Michael introduced him as Ted. They’d been talking on the telephone and Ted wanted to meet with Michael to talk about something. Some ideas he had. We followed him into the kitchen. He told me where the wine and glasses were and told me to pour one for me and one for Michael. He picked up a bottle of Groelsch beer and drank some. I poured Michael and me some white wine, handed Michael’s to him. Ted talked to Michael about the weather and sports and other junk until the doorbell rang. Ted told me to get it, so I did.

It was Peter and Thomas. They walked right past me and into the kitchen. “All right, I guess we’re all here,” Thomas said. He turned to Ted. “So, what’s the story?”

Ted took another drink of his beer, wiped his lip with a fingertip and set it down on the counter. “I’ve been talking to Peter about your Suzi. About your project.” Ted took a pile of papers out of a folder on the counter and spread them across the counter top. The men gathered around but I couldn’t see what they were looking at.

Ted started. “I like what you did here,” he pointed at something, “and here.” He shuffled the papers and picked one up. “But I think you’re really missed some opportunities. Now, this sketch…” he put it on the table in front of Thomas, “shows one of the options I think you should consider.”

I had to move out of the way as Thomas stepped back from the table, almost knocking me over. “I don’t know, Michael. Listen, no offense, Ted, but how did you get involved with this?”

Ted took a drink of his beer and pointed at Peter. “Peter and I go way back. Hell, I probably introduced him to his first latex bimbo he ever touched! And tit torture?” Ted chuckled. “This guy thought clothespins were high tech when I met him.” If that was true, Peter had certainly come a long way.

“Now, listen. I don’t want to make too big a deal of this, but I looked at the photos Peter showed me of your first bunch and I was pretty impressed. You’ve got a great imagination, Tommy, but you’re missing some of the details.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s my project.” I flinched. He could have at least said “*she’s* my project”. Would it hurt him to show me just a little bit of respect? Maybe it was too much to ask. Maybe I really am just an “it”.

Peter looked at Thomas and said something like, “Thomas, Ted’s got some great ideas here. And really, they just enhances what you’ve been working on.” Ted agreed. He said that nothing he wanted to do to me really changed what Thomas was after. He said he just wanted to take it a little bit further.

After a few more minutes of discussion about my body and who could make decisions about it, they agreed Ted could try out some of his ideas on me. Thomas must have still been a little angry, because he insisted that Ted pay for any modifications he designed. Ted agreed.

If you’re still reading this, I guess it means you like the idea of having two men designing my new body. It took Thomas a little time to warm up to the idea, but when they agreed they could both be working on me at the same time, he came around. In fact, he was more enthusiastic than I’d ever seen him in a long time. He had me come to his place three times in two days so he could take photos and scans of my body, load them into his computer, and manipulate them with his 3D software.

Like I expected, they put me under for the procedures. They were done in Thomas’s operating room, same as before. I don’t know how long I was in, they kept me drugged pretty good, but when I finally woke up, I didn’t feel any pain. I was hungry, though, and very thirsty. I didn’t sit up, there was a strap across my shoulders that kept me flat on the bed, but that was all right. Even thought I was awake, I was really tired.

Ted was the first to come see me after I woke up. He stood a few feet away and stared at me, his eyes going from my head to my toesies. I giggled at the thought, the pain killers were still making me high.

He asked me how I was feeling and I told him I was hungry and thirsty. He nodded his head, brought me back a glass of ice water and a straw. I sucked it down fast, it felt so good going down. But my mouth felt funny. I couldn’t tell what it was, but something was different. Oh well, with all these drugs in me, things were bound to feel different. I giggled again and fell back asleep.

I woke up feeling sore. My chest felt really sore and I couldn’t tell why. I moaned and Ted stood up. I guess he’d been sitting in a chair behind me the whole time, waiting for me to wake up.

“I’m fwore,” I hear myself say. It sounded thick and faraway. I tried to lick my lips but something felt funny. “Teddy… whuf hap-ped?” He leaned over me and ran his finger along my upper lip. “oooh!” I squealed. It was so sensitive I nearly came, a shudder ran from my mouth down through my nipples and all the way to my pussy, like they were all wired together. “You like that, do you?” I nodded.

I felt him push his finger into my mouth, touching the roof of my mouth as he slid it back and forth. I closed my lips around his cock … his finger, I mean, and heard a loud slurping sound. It was me. I was drooling all over myself, it was running down the sides of my face, soaking the back of my neck and my hair. I noticed something. It felt so smooth inside my mouth, his finger gliding side to side and up and down, everything in there soaking wet and soft and squishy like I had no teeth. The thought stuck in my head. Like I had no teeth. I moved my tongue around in my mouth and whimpered. There were no teeth in my mouth! Ted saw my face and leaned down, leered at me, shusshed me and told me to enjoy what was coming. He rubbed his finger along the roof of my mouth again, a little harder this time. I felt it all the way down to my clitoris. He rubbed three or four more times and I came, arching my hips and groaning loud, my body trembling and shaking. Then, I fell asleep.

I woke up even more hungry than I’d been before. And sore, my chest was so sore. Thomas was there, standing at the side of the bed talking to Ted. They were arguing over whether or not I would make more money for them with the pheromone-infused lubricant product or just from being pimped out.

When Ted heard me moan, he nudged Thomas and they both turned. “Milking time,” Ted said. Thomas shook his head. “Not yet.” Then, “feed her first.”

I turned my head to Thomas and asked “how wong hab I beh here?” I still couldn’t move my lips, they felt even more swollen and tender than before. Thomas stroked my forehead, stopped and raised my eyelid with his thumb, examined my pupils. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Weeks? A month?”

Ted came back with a glass and a rubber straw. He pushed the rubber straw into my mouth and told me to drink. I sucked hard, the banana-flavored liquid felt wonderful in my mouth. I drank the entire glass in just a few minutes, felt the cool liquid running down my throat, into my belly. He leaned over and wiped my mouth with a napkin, I felt the rush of arousal from the cotton touching me.

“You probably want to see, don’t you?” Ted asked. No, I thought. I never want to see what Thomas has done to me.

He went to the dresser and came back with a hand mirror and showed me my face. My lips were huge and puffy, big like a fish face. The skin was stretched tight, I knew that’s why there’s so sensitive. Ted slipped his thumb underneath my upper lip and lifted it. I was right, all of my teeth were gone. I stared at Ted with wide eyes. “Why?” He just shrugged. “You’ll wear dentures when we take you out in public, but…that probably won’t be very often, really.” He stood up, laid the mirror down across my legs. “And…” he pushed his finger deep into my mouth again, started rubbing the soft palate. I felt my clit swell and my nipples stiffen. “We’ve done a little work here. Kind of a Deep Throat thing. The back of your mouth is actually sending signals to your clit.” He rubbed faster and I shifted my hips. He wasn’t kidding. I came right away, shivering and moaning under his finger.

Thomas got up and pushed Ted aside. “OK, enough of the freak show. The big lips and soft mouth crap.” He gave Ted a dirty look. The modification of my mouth evidently caused some argument between them. “I want to show you what’s going to really bring in the customers.” He unbuckled the strap that was holding my shoulders to the bed and helped me sit up. Immediately, I felt the weight pulling at my chest.

“Oh gog, oh deah gog…” I moaned through my puffy and numb lips. Ted walked to the closet and came back with a floor length mirror, held it up in front of me. I turned my head and looked at Thomas. “How ig?”

He smiled. I knew he would smile, every one of his computer designs had huge, huge titties as part of them. I didn’t believe it was possible, but now I was living it. “How ig?” I asked again.

“You are in a very special class. Your 40DDs are now 40HH. Just to give you a sense of perspective, your titties are now just over 19 inches out from your chest.” I stared at the monsters on my chest. I didn’t feel like they were part of me. But the weight was a constant reminder. I tried to pull my shoulders back but couldn’t. I wondered how much each of them weighed.

Thomas ran his finger underneath my right tittie and it felt incredible. My nipple stiffened right away. I looked at the mirror – my areola was easily six inches across, maybe more, the stiff little nipple was lost in the middle. Thomas smiled at me, staring at myself in the mirror. “Something special, aren’t they?”

Ted walked up behind me, ran his hand down my back. “And we’re not done. In fact, we’re not even sure what ‘done’ is.” I was confused. “The hormone you’re taking is experimental for humans.” He said nonchalantly, “we’re not actually sure they’ll ever stop growing. And, it’s likely to have some effects on your ability to think clearly.” The thought scared me, but there was nothing I could do about it. It *did* seem to be getting harder to think but there wasn’t much for me to think about anymore. They did everything for me.

I bit my lip and kept staring at my tits in the mirror. I turned sideways. Now, my freakishly huge ass was matched by freakishly huge titties. I wondered what I would wear if they ever let me get dresssed.

As I stared in the mirror, I realized I was hungry again. My mouth was watering but I didn’t have a taste for anything in particular. I looked around the room, there was no food. But I smelled something I wanted, wasn’t sure what it was.

Thomas took a tape measure and wrapped it around my waist. “Well, this is just about all we have left to work on. Let’s give her a few weeks before we do that.” Ted nodded his head, watching me closely. He saw the look on my face. “Hungry or sore?” he asked. “Bowf,” I said. “What do you want to eat?” I felt my mouth watering but still couldn’t think of anything special. Then, I guessed. My body was a playtoy for a group of rich and horny men. What else would they make me crave if not cum? “I want to suck suh cock,” I said.

“No, you don’t,” Ted chuckled. “You think that we turned you into a cheap porn story, don’t you? ‘They made her a cum addict and turned her loose on the streets’ kind of thing?” I nodded my head. “You think we are *that* unimaginative?” He came up to me and put his hand on my cheek. “I’m insulted.” I didn’t know what to say so I just stood there.

“I’ll tell you what. We’re going to take care of the soreness for you.” He ran his hand over my right tit, I wanted to cum. Every part of me was stretched tight and hypersensitive. He ran his palm over my nipple and it stiffened, my pussy soaked itself and my eyes closed. I felt him squeezing my nipple between his finger and thumb, gently, tugging, pinching, tugging. I watched him, fascinated at how good it felt when it had just hurt. Then, I saw a few drops of milk squirt into the air and onto his fingers. I gasped.

“Come on. Milking time for Suzi slut,” he said. “Put on your boots.” I stared at him. Milking time? Peter had done that before, but with my titties so huge and sore, it was going to hurt. I protested, offered to suck their cocks, do anything they wanted but they weren’t interested. I complained again and Peter calmly asked if I wanted to go back in the Box. I decided to put on my boots.

That was a circus act in itself. I leaned sideways to reach for my boots which were at the foot of the bed, nearly fell off of the bed as the weight of my boobies shifted. I was going to have to learn to move slower. I pulled the boots to my side, then stared at my feet. They were so far away and there were two huge flesh-colored globes between them and me. I took the boot in my hand and tried to reach my foot, tried raising my leg, tried bending my knee and bring my foot up between my legs but nothing worked. Ted and Thomas sat watching me, amused at how much trouble I was having just putting on my shoes. I knew it was going to be impossible for me to lace them up once they were on. That was the first time I cried. Everything they were doing to me, they were doing with Michael’s permission and I was not going to ever let him down, but the futility of my situation hit me. I would not even be able to dress myself now to go outside of the house.

I cried for several minutes, Ted and Thomas just watching without saying a word. Finally, I pulled myself together and tried something different. I swung my right foot up and outward, bending my knee and letting it fall to the bed before my right leg. Success! I could only use one hand – there was no way my left hand was going to reach around those titties – but managed to work my foot into the boot. I let my leg slip off the bed onto the floor, then did the same with my left foot. The victory was tiny but sweet. I – a grown woman over 40 – had managed to put on my shoes. I looked at Thomas, feeling success but knowing it was really defeat. There was no way I would be able to tie them.

Ted watched me closely and when he gauged I’d wallowed in defeat long enough, he came across the room and laced and tied my boots.

“You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that,” he said when he finished.

“To Michael,” I said proudly. Ted and Thomas both smiled. They walked me down the hallway and into another room. There were implements and devices and furniture all around the walls, I recognized most of it from sessions with Michael and his friends or with others from my former life. One thing I remembered particularly well was the small suitcase Peter had brought to one of Marco’s parties, the milking machine. We walked past it though and into an adjacent, smaller room.

“Here we go,” Peter said. He patted a cushioned table – something between and barstool and an ottoman – and said “lay across this.” I rested my belly on the cushion, shoulders and hips hanging free off of either side. Peter went to work with a dozen different straps and chains and shackles; my thighs were strapped to the legs of the stool, my ankles shackled and pulled wide, held by chains connect to rings in the floor; my wrists were shackled as well, but joined and pulled up backward behind me, chained and secured from the ceiling. More straps held my waist and lower torso to the stool. My tits, shoulders and head hung free. The strain in my knees and in my shoulders was intense, the rest of me was more or less relaxed.

Peter raised my chin and turned my head slightly. I saw a big machine with a pressure dial at the top and only a few levers and knobs. “I’m rather proud of this. I found it in a small barn in Maine, bought it, and got it back into working order myself.” He patted the machine. “It is a Scottish Thistle milking machine from the late 19th century. One of the first to address the problem of intermittent suction. The machines before this used a constant suction that resulted in – as you Suzi can probably imagine – a good deal of unnecessary pain for the animal.”

I shuddered. The one Peter used on me at that party was a new one, electrical, up to date. This one came from the nineteenth century?

“Now this one,” Peter said, pressing a button. The machine started up with a loud sound, like a broken-down washing machine, clunking and groaning. “This one is steam driven. That’s the way they built it, that’s the way I’m going to use it.” He watched the needle on the gauge measure the pressure as it built up. I wasn’t looking at that, though. I was looking at the three glass tubes laying on a piece of cloth underneath the machine. Each of them had a thick rubber gasket at one end and a hose coming out of the other. All three were made of glass. Two of them were about ten inch long and three inches round. The other one was about six inches and only an inch and a half or so around. I shuddered to imagine what the big ones were going to feel like on my already hypersensitive titties. And I wondered about the third.

Ted came and sat on the floor in front of me, lifted my right boob with his hand. The relief felt wonderful, I still didn’t realize how much work my body was doing to support them. He cupped it, rubbed it slowly. I felt my pussy slick up, my clit swelling. I started grinding my belly against the cushion. Ted grinned. “Yeah, she’s gonna be a lot of fun,” he said.

“Honey, do you know why your titties are so sore?” I told him I presumed it was because of whatever they were giving me to make them grow so huge. He laughed at me. He said, “no, no. That’s why they’re so sensitive. You want to cum right now, don’t you?” I nodded. “Yeah. The growth hormone is why they feel good.” He let his hand down slowly, I felt the weight of my titty again, hanging free underneath me. “The reason they hurt is something else you’re getting in your food. This hormone *has* been tested and approved.” I watched Thomas press one of the suction cups against his palm, probably testing the suction. He adjusted one of the knobs.

Ted went on, “Well, it hasn’t been approved for humans, but we’re pretty confident it’s safe. It’s something farmers give their livestock to increase milk production.” Thomas picked up the other one and came closer to me. “Near as Tommy and me can tell, it adds about 2 full cup sizes to your titties. With the dose you’ve been getting, we think you’ll be good for nearly a quart a day.” He pressed them upward against my titties. I felt the suction right away and he let go. They hung down, tugging at me, alternately pumping and releasing. I moaned. “Oh fuch! It feel so oood!” And it did. The suction turned me and I nearly came in just a few minutes. I watched the milk drip out of me then vanish into the black tubing. The collector on the table next to the machine was a big two gallon glass bottle. I saw milk dripping from where the hose entered. There wasn’t much.

They left me attached to the machine for fifteen minutes, the pumps were sucking me titties long after anything was dripping into the bottle. Thomas turned off the machine and Ted slid the tubes off of my nipples. They were tender and stretched. He touched one with his finger and I flinched. He nodded to Thomas. “Good.”

Ted told me he’d probably have to milk me at least three times a day, maybe four. It would depend on how my body reacted to the hormone. They fed me, another serving of the same thick, banana-flavored drink they gave me before, then told me I was free for a few hours. The removed the belts and chains and helped me into a sitting position. My nipples and titties were sore but I was OK. Ted looked at his watch then they left the room.

I sat there for a long time, just resting. After a while, I got up and walked around the milking room. My long legs and the ballet boots made me so tall I had to duck my head to get under the fluorescent light. I had to relearn how to walk with my new tits. I had to hold my arms slightly back with my shoulders bowed and I had to lean forward a bit to keep my balance. When I stopped in front of the control panel and reached for the knobs, I froze. I couldn’t bring my arms together in front of me. After some experimentation, I learned that I could turn to the side and touch the knobs with my right hand, or turn to the other side and touch them with my left, but I couldn’t reach anything directly in front of me. I started crying then, I was turning more and more into their own science project, there was less and less left of me. My feet and legs, my ass and pussy hadn’t been mine for weeks, now not only my titties, but my arms and hands were part of their bizarre creation. I wanted to go back, wanted my old body back, but underneath it all, one thing was very clear. This is what Michael wants me to become. So this is what I will become.

I wiped my eyes – I had control of enough of my body to still do that – and walked around the room again, then lowered myself into a corner and sat and stared at the wall. There was no clock and time was dragging. I have no idea how long I was sitting there. I was bored, bored, bored.

Bored, but not tired. Anxious. On edge. I also knew I was aroused. The machine had done that, sucking on my nipples for so long. Even now – more than an hour later I was sure – they were tender and sensitive. Even just the gentle motion of shifting my position on the floor aroused them. I looked around again. The only things in the room were the bench, my constraints, and the machine. I inched myself up along the wall until I was standing and walked over to the machine. I touched the light green metal. It was cool and felt nice under my fingers. I leaned against it, first my butt and my back, then I turned around and pushed my titties up against the cold metal. It felt nice.

You can probably guess what I did, reader. When they came back for my next milking, I was humping the machine madly, my huge, swollen cunt lips wrapped around one of the metal legs, a pool of my own cum on the floor underneath me, my skin still wet where it had run down my legs and over my toes. Even my new, fat lips were part of the act, I was sucking and licking the metal like a starving bitch working on a cock. It was horrible and humiliating, but I realized that I loved the feeling of my toothless gums biting hard against the metal. There was a slight metallic tingle that went through me, like accidentally biting a piece of aluminum foil. I came again, moaning hard, then screaming. I heard one of them cough behind me and froze, terrified that I might be punished for what I was doing. The men just smiled at me. Thomas bent over and then crouched down, dipped his finger in my ejaculated mess. He sniffed it. “Ah,” was all he said.

They connected a new bottle to the machine and milked me again, this time for twenty minutes. I watched Thomas hold the two bottles up, comparing the volume from first milking to the second. Ted disconnected me and told me to back to my room. He started talking to Thomas but I didn’t hear what they said.

Back in my room, I felt tired and thought I would take a nap. I got into bed and laid down. My hugs tits made it hard for me to lay on my back, they fell to the sides and I couldn’t relax. So, I turned on my left side but still couldn’t get comfortable. I lay there for a little while, feeling more and more nervous. I knew what it was. I was a belly sleeper. Or, I *had been* a belly sleeper. Those days were gone. I thought about stacking pillows underneath my ribs to support me. I looked around. There were four pillows on the bed. I sat up and tried assembling them a few different ways, but nothing worked. I would be sleeping on my side from now on.

I tried that too, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I never was a side sleeper and now, I couldn’t even get my arms comfortable. I tried resting them along my side, then behind be, even above my head. Nothing worked. They had even taken my sleep away from me. Was that part of Peter’s kink? Or maybe Ted’s. I wondered if Marco would show me off at his parties now. I shook my head. Of course her would. All of them were tit freaks. And now I was the biggest tit freak of all.

I closed my eyes, still feeling the machine sucking on my nipples. Left, right, left, right. I smelled something sweet in the air, it turned me on. I opened my eyes and looked around the room but couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I closed my eyes again and ran a finger across my lower lip. It trembled in response to the light touch. My pussy felt it too and my hand instinctively slid between my legs and I was playing with myself again. It didn’t take long for me to cum – every part of my body was hyper-sensitive now. Peter’s cartoon was alive and real and horny and it couldn’t control itself.

Peter took me to a party that night. He dressed me in a huge, oversized flower print mu-mu, the only thing he had that would fit over my new titties. As we drove across town in his small car, I realized that something had changed in how I thought about Peter. When this all started and I realized that Peter has no boundaries, I was scared. Afraid of what he might do to me. But now, I realized that I was turned on look at him. Now, I saw him as confident, cruel and completely merciless. I found I was hoping Peter would take me somewhere so he could really work me over. What I knew now was that he was smart enough not to damage his investment. Whatever he was turning me into, he wouldn’t want to break it. At least I was pretty sure of that.

I was a little disappointed when he brought me back to Marco’s place. Marco would stuff me in his little hole in the floor and let people cum on me. He’d been severe with me that first night, but since then, I hadn’t been anything but a hole to him. Peter led me in. There was nobody there. That surprised me a little. Marco usually liked to have me entertain at parties. Peter walked me into the room I’d been whipped in the first time. Marco was there. He was naked except for a pair of knee-high leather boots and a red bandana. He reminded me of a pirate and I couldn’t suppress a giggle. I stared at his chest and arms. I had forgotten how ripped he was, a poster boy for steroids and free weights. His black hair was slicked back on his head, the bandana high on his forehead.

Peter and Marco didn’t say a word to me or to each other. While Peter closed the leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles, Marco just stood there, trailing the end of a long, single tailed leather whip back and forth on the floor in front of his boots. Peter started cranking the pulleys that I’d been in before, spreading my legs wide and pulling my arms up and outward. It was different this time though. Whatever they’d done to my legs and hips made it harder to spread them this way. And my huge titties hung heavy on my chest, making it hard for me to let my arms open wide. Peter didn’t care. He kept turning the handle. I heard the ‘click, click, click’ of the gears locking and then heard myself whimpering and then heard myself begging them to stop then heard Marco snap the whip in the air once, twice, three times before he brought it down across my chest.

The water woke me up. Marco was standing in front of me with an empty cup in his hand. Just like last time. No. Not like last time. I was so much more turned on that I’d been last time. He concentrated his whipping on my tits this time, the pain was excruciating but there was something else. My cunt was on fire, my clit huge and throbbing, I needed to cum. Why? I looked at Marco, his sweat-soaked body breathing hard, an evil smile on his face. I took a deep breath, the sweet smell of sweat making me dizzy with lust. Marco walked toward me and raised his arm, put his forearm in front of my huge, swollen lips. I opened my mouth, stuck my tongue out, licked his arm with long, wet strokes of my tongue. It tasted wonderful. He let me lick his other arm, then came closer. I ran my tongue over his sweaty biceps, pressed my lips hard, sucked his skin. I ran my tongue along the underside of his arm, pushed my face into his armpit, sucked the sweat off of the hair, slurping, listening to the saliva running down my chin and down his side. He turned and offered me the other pit. I dove in, sucking and licking, the sounds of my hunger filling the room.

He stepped back and I saw his cock was stiff and erect. He motioned to Peter who lowered my arms a few inches, just enough that Marco could shove his cock between my huge cunt lips. He pressed against me, moaned how soft I felt down there. Like fucking a pillow, like fucking a cloud. He fucked me a long, long time, buried so deep inside me I thought I would pass out. When he came, I did too, my body shaking and twisting against my bonds. Marco sat on the floor, his legs splayed, the whip on the floor beside him. Peter cranked the handle and lowered me to the ground. I crawled the few feet that separated us, buried my face in Marco’s crotch, licking and sucking every drop of sweat I could get to along the insides of his thighs, the crack of his crotch, his belly, his chest. I was going insane, it was a feast, the salty taste and the thick feel of the gunge in the fold of his crotch drove me crazy. Peter let me lick Marco’s tasty crotch for a long, long time before he took me back home.

Ted was waiting for me when we got back. Peter didn’t even let me get out of the car he just parked and got out and handed the keys to Ted. I held my arms underneath my tits, they were raw and tender from the whipping Marco had given them. They’d dressed me in a tight leather outfit. The pants were custom made for my huge ass and looked like they were painted on. The top was the same, long sleeves and a high collar and skintight. Every inch of me except my head and hands was encased in a second skin of tight, black leather. Ted didn’t talk to me while he drove, just like Peter. He took me in the same direction as Peter, but not to Marco’s. He drove into the packed parking lot of a bar just outside of town. There were rows of trucks and old beatup cars, a dozen motorcycles parked outside the front door. I could guess what he was doing, looked at him with pleading eyes. He just smiled.

We walked in together and everyone turned and stared. The blaring country music kept playing but everyone stopped talking. I saw them start to smile, a couple of them said “hi” to Ted. The bartender told everyone to just stay calm and added, “let’s not have any trouble like last time.” I felt my stomach drop. What did that mean?

Ted led me to the bar and ordered a beer and a glass of warm water for me. The song on the jukebox ended. The place was still dead quiet. It made me nervous and anxious, wondering what was going to happen. Everyone was still staring at me, sipping their whiskey or drinking their beer but not talking. Nobody seemed surprised or shocked. How often had they done this before?

A couple of women in short leather skirts walked up to me and just stared at my boots for a minute. “Damn, honey. That’s hardcore,” one of them said. The other circled around me, staring at my tits and ass. “Teddy, where the hell did you find this one?” She stopped in front of me and looked at my lips. I knew what she was looking at. Each of my lips was at least two inches thick, the skin pulled tight. She touched my lip, giggled and said loudly, “trout pout.” I’d never heard the word before but everyone around us started laughing. A man who was standing by the bar said, “naw. That’s more a of pussy mouth than a trout pout.” They started in on me then, a couple of men came closer, staring at my mouth. “Let’s see, honey. Open em up. Trout pout or pussy mouth?” I parted my lips just slightly, I didn’t want anyone seeing my missing teeth.

“Aw, we aren’t gonna be able to tell until we put something in there. Who’s first?” the man laughed. Everyone in the room laughed then, but the bartender yelled. “Fuck no, aw fuck no. We’re not doing *that* again.” He waved a baseball bat in the air and everyone quieted down.

“Fuck that,” the shorter woman in front of me yelled. “Put something on the juke box and let’s see the bitch dance.” She looked at me. “I want to see you dance with those boots on. And those fucking monster titties of yours.”

A raucous country rock some on, something about “liking this bar” and I started to sway my hips. The woman reached out quickly and tweaked my nipple through the leather. “Come on, bitch! Dance!”

I started moving then, waving my arms and shaking my ass, throwing my hair back and forth, arching my back so my huge titties shook inside their leather casing. It made me hot, dancing like that, I felt myself turned on and wanting to fuck. I wondered if Ted was going to make them fuck me…no, *let* them fuck me. I saw three or four of them I really wanted, rough looking guys who would ride me hard and make me cum.

When the music stopped, Ted finished his beer and walked me into the men’s room. I glory-holed the place for four hours before he took me home.

My titties were aching by the time we got back. So was my stomach. I don’t know how much cum I swallowed in four hours, but it had to be a lot. My belly felt stretched and bloated, swollen like my titties. Ted walked me into the milking room and I tore my clothes off right away, hurried to the bench and reached for the nipple cups. Ted laughed and took them out of my hands. “A little uncomfortable?” I said yes. “Be patient, the machine isn’t even on yet. Besides, it’s good for you and it’s going to happen a lot. Get used to it.” He leaned against the control desk. “Get up and pick up those clothes. Were you born in a barn?” he mocked me.

I got up off of the bench and bent over, picked up the leather top and pants, folded them, asked him where I should put them. “Just drop them on the floor,” he said with an evil chuckle. I begged him to start milking me, I felt like I was going to explode. He told me to lay back down so I did. He flipped the switch that turned on the machine and I listened with a sense of relief as the motor started clunking to life. He connected all of my restraints – tho he didn’t need to. I was craving the machine.

This time, though, he unscrewed some swivel connections and used them to secure my head in place, neck straight with my spine, eyes looking at the floor. He rolled a small device beside me and slid something horizontally between my lips. It was a cool piece of something hard covered with a rubber skin. He flipped a switch and it began moving up and down slowly, massaging my lips. I was turned on and felt my cunt start to ooze. I moaned and he patted my head.

Next, I felt his hands between my legs, stroking my huge, puffy cunt lips. He opened them and I nearly came. I felt something hard pressed against my right cunt lip, then sliding nearer my clit. I jerked and said “oooh!” as it attached itself to my clit. It was the third glass tube I saw the other day! He was milking my clit! It sucked on me only a few times before I came. And it kept sucking. I was going to go insane if it continued. He connected the cups to my nipples and I knew I wasn’t going to be last. The suction was incredible, like a thousand of the best lovers I’d ever head all rolled into one. I tried to squirm, to shake the suction cup off of my clit but it wasn’t going anywhere. I came again quickly, a small squirt of liquid shooting out of me. My brain was flooded with sensation. I felt drool running over my lips, over the small, stiff bar in my mouth. I was lost in the feelings when he started talking to me. I think I remember what he said. They were milking me all over now. The reason Ted needed me all along was that he was selling what he called a “secret special” perfume over the internet. It was refined from a combination of tit milk, pussy lubrication, and female ejaculate and saliva. Peter called him after me met me. He knew I would do anything Michael told me to do, he knew I enjoyed pain and he knew I would enjoy being turned into the sex machine he’d been designing. He was right. I abandoned myself to the machines more and more as Ted talked. Peter was one hundred percent right. I was enjoying every minute of my transformation. I wanted to beg him to push further with the modifications, to push Marco further with how he abused me when I came to his place, to push Thomas to throw away his designs and use me the way I was now as his starting point. I came and came as the machine sucked on my body, squirting again and again into the collector Ted put between my legs. I could see the bowl underneath my head filling with the precious liquid that was dripping down around the shaft, I wanted to find more ways they could abuse me, make more suggestions, give them more. I shook my head in frustration that there was nothing left for me to offer, no other parts of my body I could have him make useful. Maybe he could think of something.

… to be continued if people are interested …

SUZI IS INTRODUCED TO TED

Michael surprised me last night with a new pair of ballet boots. He said they were a treat because I’d done such a good job for Tony last week. He was right, I did. I worked for him four days in a row, which saved his company a lot of money. By the time they disconnected me from the machine, I was nearly crazy from stimulation. Tony promised me he would let me come back and work for him again in a few weeks.

The ballet boots are bright red and they lace all the way up my thigh. He had them specially made by the apprentice of a man who makes custom clothes for everyone from bikers to rock stars. The man initially said no, he’d never seen anything like me before. He’d worked with bondage freaks before but never with anyone whose body had been so thoroughly changed as mine. Michael laughed. He told the man – Daniel – that they weren’t done with me and that they would have plenty more business for him if he would work with us. The man turned us over to one of his apprentices, a young woman who didn’t seem to care who she was working for as long as she got paid.

He helped me into the boots then told me to put something on because we were taking a drive. I went to the closet and took one of my dresses off a hangar. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but all of my dresses are the same now – high necked, long sleeved things made of a clingy nylon fabric. They flare out from the waist to accommodate my huge bottom and end just a few inches above the knee. The dress is actually rather modest in cut, but with my body inside of it, it’s pornographic. Michael did provide me with different colors – burgundy, black, and red – and he lets me choose whichever color I want.

I followed him to the car and we pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t recognize the route we were driving, it wasn’t one of the places we’d gone before. I asked him about it but he didn’t answer just changed the subject.

We pulled into the driveway of a ranch house in the suburbs. It was well kept and I could see that he had a big building out back. I guessed I’d be spending time there. I turned out to be right, but not on this visit. Michael came around and opened the door for me, like a gentleman. He led me to the front door and rang the bell. The man who answered was middle aged with thinning hair and a pleasant face. He was casually dressed, tan pants and a light colored shirt, wearing brown deck shoes. I liked him right away, he seemed really nice.

Michael introduced him as Ted. They’d been talking on the telephone and Ted wanted to meet with Michael to talk about something. Some ideas he had. We followed him into the kitchen. He told me where the wine and glasses were and told me to pour one for me and one for Michael. He picked up a bottle of Groelsch beer and drank some. I poured Michael and me some white wine, handed Michael’s to him. Ted talked to Michael about the weather and sports and other junk until the doorbell rang. Ted told me to get it, so I did.

It was Peter and Thomas. They walked right past me and into the kitchen. “All right, I guess we’re all here,” Thomas said. He turned to Ted. “So, what’s the story?”

Ted took another drink of his beer, wiped his lip with a fingertip and set it down on the counter. “I’ve been talking to Peter about your Suzi. About your project.” Ted took a pile of papers out of a folder on the counter and spread them across the counter top. The men gathered around but I couldn’t see what they were looking at.

Ted started. “I like what you did here,” he pointed at something, “and here.” He shuffled the papers and picked one up. “But I think you’re really missed some opportunities. Now, this sketch…” he put it on the table in front of Thomas, “shows one of the options I think you should consider.”

I had to move out of the way as Thomas stepped back from the table, almost knocking me over. “I don’t know, Michael. Listen, no offense, Ted, but how did you get involved with this?”

Ted took a drink of his beer and pointed at Peter. “Peter and I go way back. Hell, I probably introduced him to his first latex bimbo he ever touched! And tit torture?” Ted chuckled. “This guy thought clothespins were high tech when I met him.” If that was true, Peter had certainly come a long way.

“Now, listen. I don’t want to make too big a deal of this, but I looked at the photos Peter showed me of your first bunch and I was pretty impressed. You’ve got a great imagination, Tommy, but you’re missing some of the details.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s my project.” I flinched. He could have at least said “*she’s* my project”. Would it hurt him to show me just a little bit of respect? Maybe it was too much to ask. Maybe I really am just an “it”.

Peter looked at Thomas and said something like, “Thomas, Ted’s got some great ideas here. And really, they just enhances what you’ve been working on.” Ted agreed. He said that nothing he wanted to do to me really changed what Thomas was after. He said he just wanted to take it a little bit further.

After a few more minutes of discussion about my body and who could make decisions about it, they agreed Ted could try out some of his ideas on me. Thomas must have still been a little angry, because he insisted that Ted pay for any modifications he designed. Ted agreed.

If you’re still reading this, I guess it means you like the idea of having two men designing my new body. It took Thomas a little time to warm up to the idea, but when they agreed they could both be working on me at the same time, he came around. In fact, he was more enthusiastic than I’d ever seen him in a long time. He had me come to his place three times in two days so he could take photos and scans of my body, load them into his computer, and manipulate them with his 3D software.

Like I expected, they put me under for the procedures. They were done in Thomas’s operating room, same as before. I don’t know how long I was in, they kept me drugged pretty good, but when I finally woke up, I didn’t feel any pain. I was hungry, though, and very thirsty. I didn’t sit up, there was a strap across my shoulders that kept me flat on the bed, but that was all right. Even thought I was awake, I was really tired.

Ted was the first to come see me after I woke up. He stood a few feet away and stared at me, his eyes going from my head to my toesies. I giggled at the thought, the pain killers were still making me high.

He asked me how I was feeling and I told him I was hungry and thirsty. He nodded his head, brought me back a glass of ice water and a straw. I sucked it down fast, it felt so good going down. But my mouth felt funny. I couldn’t tell what it was, but something was different. Oh well, with all these drugs in me, things were bound to feel different. I giggled again and fell back asleep.

I woke up feeling sore. My chest felt really sore and I couldn’t tell why. I moaned and Ted stood up. I guess he’d been sitting in a chair behind me the whole time, waiting for me to wake up.

“I’m fwore,” I hear myself say. It sounded thick and faraway. I tried to lick my lips but something felt funny. “Teddy… whuf hap-ped?” He leaned over me and ran his finger along my upper lip. “oooh!” I squealed. It was so sensitive I nearly came, a shudder ran from my mouth down through my nipples and all the way to my pussy, like they were all wired together. “You like that, do you?” I nodded.

I felt him push his finger into my mouth, touching the roof of my mouth as he slid it back and forth. I closed my lips around his cock … his finger, I mean, and heard a loud slurping sound. It was me. I was drooling all over myself, it was running down the sides of my face, soaking the back of my neck and my hair. I noticed something. It felt so smooth inside my mouth, his finger gliding side to side and up and down, everything in there soaking wet and soft and squishy like I had no teeth. The thought stuck in my head. Like I had no teeth. I moved my tongue around in my mouth and whimpered. There were no teeth in my mouth! Ted saw my face and leaned down, leered at me, shusshed me and told me to enjoy what was coming. He rubbed his finger along the roof of my mouth again, a little harder this time. I felt it all the way down to my clitoris. He rubbed three or four more times and I came, arching my hips and groaning loud, my body trembling and shaking. Then, I fell asleep.

I woke up even more hungry than I’d been before. And sore, my chest was so sore. Thomas was there, standing at the side of the bed talking to Ted. They were arguing over whether or not I would make more money for them with the pheromone-infused lubricant product or just from being pimped out.

When Ted heard me moan, he nudged Thomas and they both turned. “Milking time,” Ted said. Thomas shook his head. “Not yet.” Then, “feed her first.”

I turned my head to Thomas and asked “how wong hab I beh here?” I still couldn’t move my lips, they felt even more swollen and tender than before. Thomas stroked my forehead, stopped and raised my eyelid with his thumb, examined my pupils. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Weeks? A month?”

Ted came back with a glass and a rubber straw. He pushed the rubber straw into my mouth and told me to drink. I sucked hard, the banana-flavored liquid felt wonderful in my mouth. I drank the entire glass in just a few minutes, felt the cool liquid running down my throat, into my belly. He leaned over and wiped my mouth with a napkin, I felt the rush of arousal from the cotton touching me.

“You probably want to see, don’t you?” Ted asked. No, I thought. I never want to see what Thomas has done to me.

He went to the dresser and came back with a hand mirror and showed me my face. My lips were huge and puffy, big like a fish face. The skin was stretched tight, I knew that’s why there’s so sensitive. Ted slipped his thumb underneath my upper lip and lifted it. I was right, all of my teeth were gone. I stared at Ted with wide eyes. “Why?” He just shrugged. “You’ll wear dentures when we take you out in public, but…that probably won’t be very often, really.” He stood up, laid the mirror down across my legs. “And…” he pushed his finger deep into my mouth again, started rubbing the soft palate. I felt my clit swell and my nipples stiffen. “We’ve done a little work here. Kind of a Deep Throat thing. The back of your mouth is actually sending signals to your clit.” He rubbed faster and I shifted my hips. He wasn’t kidding. I came right away, shivering and moaning under his finger.

Thomas got up and pushed Ted aside. “OK, enough of the freak show. The big lips and soft mouth crap.” He gave Ted a dirty look. The modification of my mouth evidently caused some argument between them. “I want to show you what’s going to really bring in the customers.” He unbuckled the strap that was holding my shoulders to the bed and helped me sit up. Immediately, I felt the weight pulling at my chest.

“Oh gog, oh deah gog…” I moaned through my puffy and numb lips. Ted walked to the closet and came back with a floor length mirror, held it up in front of me. I turned my head and looked at Thomas. “How ig?”

He smiled. I knew he would smile, every one of his computer designs had huge, huge titties as part of them. I didn’t believe it was possible, but now I was living it. “How ig?” I asked again.

“You are in a very special class. Your 40DDs are now 40HH. Just to give you a sense of perspective, your titties are now just over 19 inches out from your chest.” I stared at the monsters on my chest. I didn’t feel like they were part of me. But the weight was a constant reminder. I tried to pull my shoulders back but couldn’t. I wondered how much each of them weighed.

Thomas ran his finger underneath my right tittie and it felt incredible. My nipple stiffened right away. I looked at the mirror – my areola was easily six inches across, maybe more, the stiff little nipple was lost in the middle. Thomas smiled at me, staring at myself in the mirror. “Something special, aren’t they?”

Ted walked up behind me, ran his hand down my back. “And we’re not done. In fact, we’re not even sure what ‘done’ is.” I was confused. “The hormone you’re taking is experimental for humans.” He said nonchalantly, “we’re not actually sure they’ll ever stop growing. And, it’s likely to have some effects on your ability to think clearly.” The thought scared me, but there was nothing I could do about it. It *did* seem to be getting harder to think but there wasn’t much for me to think about anymore. They did everything for me.

I bit my lip and kept staring at my tits in the mirror. I turned sideways. Now, my freakishly huge ass was matched by freakishly huge titties. I wondered what I would wear if they ever let me get dresssed.

As I stared in the mirror, I realized I was hungry again. My mouth was watering but I didn’t have a taste for anything in particular. I looked around the room, there was no food. But I smelled something I wanted, wasn’t sure what it was.

Thomas took a tape measure and wrapped it around my waist. “Well, this is just about all we have left to work on. Let’s give her a few weeks before we do that.” Ted nodded his head, watching me closely. He saw the look on my face. “Hungry or sore?” he asked. “Bowf,” I said. “What do you want to eat?” I felt my mouth watering but still couldn’t think of anything special. Then, I guessed. My body was a playtoy for a group of rich and horny men. What else would they make me crave if not cum? “I want to suck suh cock,” I said.

“No, you don’t,” Ted chuckled. “You think that we turned you into a cheap porn story, don’t you? ‘They made her a cum addict and turned her loose on the streets’ kind of thing?” I nodded my head. “You think we are *that* unimaginative?” He came up to me and put his hand on my cheek. “I’m insulted.” I didn’t know what to say so I just stood there.

“I’ll tell you what. We’re going to take care of the soreness for you.” He ran his hand over my right tit, I wanted to cum. Every part of me was stretched tight and hypersensitive. He ran his palm over my nipple and it stiffened, my pussy soaked itself and my eyes closed. I felt him squeezing my nipple between his finger and thumb, gently, tugging, pinching, tugging. I watched him, fascinated at how good it felt when it had just hurt. Then, I saw a few drops of milk squirt into the air and onto his fingers. I gasped.

“Come on. Milking time for Suzi slut,” he said. “Put on your boots.” I stared at him. Milking time? Peter had done that before, but with my titties so huge and sore, it was going to hurt. I protested, offered to suck their cocks, do anything they wanted but they weren’t interested. I complained again and Peter calmly asked if I wanted to go back in the Box. I decided to put on my boots.

That was a circus act in itself. I leaned sideways to reach for my boots which were at the foot of the bed, nearly fell off of the bed as the weight of my boobies shifted. I was going to have to learn to move slower. I pulled the boots to my side, then stared at my feet. They were so far away and there were two huge flesh-colored globes between them and me. I took the boot in my hand and tried to reach my foot, tried raising my leg, tried bending my knee and bring my foot up between my legs but nothing worked. Ted and Thomas sat watching me, amused at how much trouble I was having just putting on my shoes. I knew it was going to be impossible for me to lace them up once they were on. That was the first time I cried. Everything they were doing to me, they were doing with Michael’s permission and I was not going to ever let him down, but the futility of my situation hit me. I would not even be able to dress myself now to go outside of the house.

I cried for several minutes, Ted and Thomas just watching without saying a word. Finally, I pulled myself together and tried something different. I swung my right foot up and outward, bending my knee and letting it fall to the bed before my right leg. Success! I could only use one hand – there was no way my left hand was going to reach around those titties – but managed to work my foot into the boot. I let my leg slip off the bed onto the floor, then did the same with my left foot. The victory was tiny but sweet. I – a grown woman over 40 – had managed to put on my shoes. I looked at Thomas, feeling success but knowing it was really defeat. There was no way I would be able to tie them.

Ted watched me closely and when he gauged I’d wallowed in defeat long enough, he came across the room and laced and tied my boots.

“You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that,” he said when he finished.

“To Michael,” I said proudly. Ted and Thomas both smiled. They walked me down the hallway and into another room. There were implements and devices and furniture all around the walls, I recognized most of it from sessions with Michael and his friends or with others from my former life. One thing I remembered particularly well was the small suitcase Peter had brought to one of Marco’s parties, the milking machine. We walked past it though and into an adjacent, smaller room.

“Here we go,” Peter said. He patted a cushioned table – something between and barstool and an ottoman – and said “lay across this.” I rested my belly on the cushion, shoulders and hips hanging free off of either side. Peter went to work with a dozen different straps and chains and shackles; my thighs were strapped to the legs of the stool, my ankles shackled and pulled wide, held by chains connect to rings in the floor; my wrists were shackled as well, but joined and pulled up backward behind me, chained and secured from the ceiling. More straps held my waist and lower torso to the stool. My tits, shoulders and head hung free. The strain in my knees and in my shoulders was intense, the rest of me was more or less relaxed.

Peter raised my chin and turned my head slightly. I saw a big machine with a pressure dial at the top and only a few levers and knobs. “I’m rather proud of this. I found it in a small barn in Maine, bought it, and got it back into working order myself.” He patted the machine. “It is a Scottish Thistle milking machine from the late 19th century. One of the first to address the problem of intermittent suction. The machines before this used a constant suction that resulted in – as you Suzi can probably imagine – a good deal of unnecessary pain for the animal.”

I shuddered. The one Peter used on me at that party was a new one, electrical, up to date. This one came from the nineteenth century?

“Now this one,” Peter said, pressing a button. The machine started up with a loud sound, like a broken-down washing machine, clunking and groaning. “This one is steam driven. That’s the way they built it, that’s the way I’m going to use it.” He watched the needle on the gauge measure the pressure as it built up. I wasn’t looking at that, though. I was looking at the three glass tubes laying on a piece of cloth underneath the machine. Each of them had a thick rubber gasket at one end and a hose coming out of the other. All three were made of glass. Two of them were about ten inch long and three inches round. The other one was about six inches and only an inch and a half or so around. I shuddered to imagine what the big ones were going to feel like on my already hypersensitive titties. And I wondered about the third.

Ted came and sat on the floor in front of me, lifted my right boob with his hand. The relief felt wonderful, I still didn’t realize how much work my body was doing to support them. He cupped it, rubbed it slowly. I felt my pussy slick up, my clit swelling. I started grinding my belly against the cushion. Ted grinned. “Yeah, she’s gonna be a lot of fun,” he said.

“Honey, do you know why your titties are so sore?” I told him I presumed it was because of whatever they were giving me to make them grow so huge. He laughed at me. He said, “no, no. That’s why they’re so sensitive. You want to cum right now, don’t you?” I nodded. “Yeah. The growth hormone is why they feel good.” He let his hand down slowly, I felt the weight of my titty again, hanging free underneath me. “The reason they hurt is something else you’re getting in your food. This hormone *has* been tested and approved.” I watched Thomas press one of the suction cups against his palm, probably testing the suction. He adjusted one of the knobs.

Ted went on, “Well, it hasn’t been approved for humans, but we’re pretty confident it’s safe. It’s something farmers give their livestock to increase milk production.” Thomas picked up the other one and came closer to me. “Near as Tommy and me can tell, it adds about 2 full cup sizes to your titties. With the dose you’ve been getting, we think you’ll be good for nearly a quart a day.” He pressed them upward against my titties. I felt the suction right away and he let go. They hung down, tugging at me, alternately pumping and releasing. I moaned. “Oh fuch! It feel so oood!” And it did. The suction turned me and I nearly came in just a few minutes. I watched the milk drip out of me then vanish into the black tubing. The collector on the table next to the machine was a big two gallon glass bottle. I saw milk dripping from where the hose entered. There wasn’t much.

They left me attached to the machine for fifteen minutes, the pumps were sucking me titties long after anything was dripping into the bottle. Thomas turned off the machine and Ted slid the tubes off of my nipples. They were tender and stretched. He touched one with his finger and I flinched. He nodded to Thomas. “Good.”

Ted told me he’d probably have to milk me at least three times a day, maybe four. It would depend on how my body reacted to the hormone. They fed me, another serving of the same thick, banana-flavored drink they gave me before, then told me I was free for a few hours. The removed the belts and chains and helped me into a sitting position. My nipples and titties were sore but I was OK. Ted looked at his watch then they left the room.

I sat there for a long time, just resting. After a while, I got up and walked around the milking room. My long legs and the ballet boots made me so tall I had to duck my head to get under the fluorescent light. I had to relearn how to walk with my new tits. I had to hold my arms slightly back with my shoulders bowed and I had to lean forward a bit to keep my balance. When I stopped in front of the control panel and reached for the knobs, I froze. I couldn’t bring my arms together in front of me. After some experimentation, I learned that I could turn to the side and touch the knobs with my right hand, or turn to the other side and touch them with my left, but I couldn’t reach anything directly in front of me. I started crying then, I was turning more and more into their own science project, there was less and less left of me. My feet and legs, my ass and pussy hadn’t been mine for weeks, now not only my titties, but my arms and hands were part of their bizarre creation. I wanted to go back, wanted my old body back, but underneath it all, one thing was very clear. This is what Michael wants me to become. So this is what I will become.

I wiped my eyes – I had control of enough of my body to still do that – and walked around the room again, then lowered myself into a corner and sat and stared at the wall. There was no clock and time was dragging. I have no idea how long I was sitting there. I was bored, bored, bored.

Bored, but not tired. Anxious. On edge. I also knew I was aroused. The machine had done that, sucking on my nipples for so long. Even now – more than an hour later I was sure – they were tender and sensitive. Even just the gentle motion of shifting my position on the floor aroused them. I looked around again. The only things in the room were the bench, my constraints, and the machine. I inched myself up along the wall until I was standing and walked over to the machine. I touched the light green metal. It was cool and felt nice under my fingers. I leaned against it, first my butt and my back, then I turned around and pushed my titties up against the cold metal. It felt nice.

You can probably guess what I did, reader. When they came back for my next milking, I was humping the machine madly, my huge, swollen cunt lips wrapped around one of the metal legs, a pool of my own cum on the floor underneath me, my skin still wet where it had run down my legs and over my toes. Even my new, fat lips were part of the act, I was sucking and licking the metal like a starving bitch working on a cock. It was horrible and humiliating, but I realized that I loved the feeling of my toothless gums biting hard against the metal. There was a slight metallic tingle that went through me, like accidentally biting a piece of aluminum foil. I came again, moaning hard, then screaming. I heard one of them cough behind me and froze, terrified that I might be punished for what I was doing. The men just smiled at me. Thomas bent over and then crouched down, dipped his finger in my ejaculated mess. He sniffed it. “Ah,” was all he said.

They connected a new bottle to the machine and milked me again, this time for twenty minutes. I watched Thomas hold the two bottles up, comparing the volume from first milking to the second. Ted disconnected me and told me to back to my room. He started talking to Thomas but I didn’t hear what they said.

Back in my room, I felt tired and thought I would take a nap. I got into bed and laid down. My hugs tits made it hard for me to lay on my back, they fell to the sides and I couldn’t relax. So, I turned on my left side but still couldn’t get comfortable. I lay there for a little while, feeling more and more nervous. I knew what it was. I was a belly sleeper. Or, I *had been* a belly sleeper. Those days were gone. I thought about stacking pillows underneath my ribs to support me. I looked around. There were four pillows on the bed. I sat up and tried assembling them a few different ways, but nothing worked. I would be sleeping on my side from now on.

I tried that too, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I never was a side sleeper and now, I couldn’t even get my arms comfortable. I tried resting them along my side, then behind be, even above my head. Nothing worked. They had even taken my sleep away from me. Was that part of Peter’s kink? Or maybe Ted’s. I wondered if Marco would show me off at his parties now. I shook my head. Of course her would. All of them were tit freaks. And now I was the biggest tit freak of all.

I closed my eyes, still feeling the machine sucking on my nipples. Left, right, left, right. I smelled something sweet in the air, it turned me on. I opened my eyes and looked around the room but couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I closed my eyes again and ran a finger across my lower lip. It trembled in response to the light touch. My pussy felt it too and my hand instinctively slid between my legs and I was playing with myself again. It didn’t take long for me to cum – every part of my body was hyper-sensitive now. Peter’s cartoon was alive and real and horny and it couldn’t control itself.

Peter took me to a party that night. He dressed me in a huge, oversized flower print mu-mu, the only thing he had that would fit over my new titties. As we drove across town in his small car, I realized that something had changed in how I thought about Peter. When this all started and I realized that Peter has no boundaries, I was scared. Afraid of what he might do to me. But now, I realized that I was turned on look at him. Now, I saw him as confident, cruel and completely merciless. I found I was hoping Peter would take me somewhere so he could really work me over. What I knew now was that he was smart enough not to damage his investment. Whatever he was turning me into, he wouldn’t want to break it. At least I was pretty sure of that.

I was a little disappointed when he brought me back to Marco’s place. Marco would stuff me in his little hole in the floor and let people cum on me. He’d been severe with me that first night, but since then, I hadn’t been anything but a hole to him. Peter led me in. There was nobody there. That surprised me a little. Marco usually liked to have me entertain at parties. Peter walked me into the room I’d been whipped in the first time. Marco was there. He was naked except for a pair of knee-high leather boots and a red bandana. He reminded me of a pirate and I couldn’t suppress a giggle. I stared at his chest and arms. I had forgotten how ripped he was, a poster boy for steroids and free weights. His black hair was slicked back on his head, the bandana high on his forehead.

Peter and Marco didn’t say a word to me or to each other. While Peter closed the leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles, Marco just stood there, trailing the end of a long, single tailed leather whip back and forth on the floor in front of his boots. Peter started cranking the pulleys that I’d been in before, spreading my legs wide and pulling my arms up and outward. It was different this time though. Whatever they’d done to my legs and hips made it harder to spread them this way. And my huge titties hung heavy on my chest, making it hard for me to let my arms open wide. Peter didn’t care. He kept turning the handle. I heard the ‘click, click, click’ of the gears locking and then heard myself whimpering and then heard myself begging them to stop then heard Marco snap the whip in the air once, twice, three times before he brought it down across my chest.

The water woke me up. Marco was standing in front of me with an empty cup in his hand. Just like last time. No. Not like last time. I was so much more turned on that I’d been last time. He concentrated his whipping on my tits this time, the pain was excruciating but there was something else. My cunt was on fire, my clit huge and throbbing, I needed to cum. Why? I looked at Marco, his sweat-soaked body breathing hard, an evil smile on his face. I took a deep breath, the sweet smell of sweat making me dizzy with lust. Marco walked toward me and raised his arm, put his forearm in front of my huge, swollen lips. I opened my mouth, stuck my tongue out, licked his arm with long, wet strokes of my tongue. It tasted wonderful. He let me lick his other arm, then came closer. I ran my tongue over his sweaty biceps, pressed my lips hard, sucked his skin. I ran my tongue along the underside of his arm, pushed my face into his armpit, sucked the sweat off of the hair, slurping, listening to the saliva running down my chin and down his side. He turned and offered me the other pit. I dove in, sucking and licking, the sounds of my hunger filling the room.

He stepped back and I saw his cock was stiff and erect. He motioned to Peter who lowered my arms a few inches, just enough that Marco could shove his cock between my huge cunt lips. He pressed against me, moaned how soft I felt down there. Like fucking a pillow, like fucking a cloud. He fucked me a long, long time, buried so deep inside me I thought I would pass out. When he came, I did too, my body shaking and twisting against my bonds. Marco sat on the floor, his legs splayed, the whip on the floor beside him. Peter cranked the handle and lowered me to the ground. I crawled the few feet that separated us, buried my face in Marco’s crotch, licking and sucking every drop of sweat I could get to along the insides of his thighs, the crack of his crotch, his belly, his chest. I was going insane, it was a feast, the salty taste and the thick feel of the gunge in the fold of his crotch drove me crazy. Peter let me lick Marco’s tasty crotch for a long, long time before he took me back home.

Ted was waiting for me when we got back. Peter didn’t even let me get out of the car he just parked and got out and handed the keys to Ted. I held my arms underneath my tits, they were raw and tender from the whipping Marco had given them. They’d dressed me in a tight leather outfit. The pants were custom made for my huge ass and looked like they were painted on. The top was the same, long sleeves and a high collar and skintight. Every inch of me except my head and hands was encased in a second skin of tight, black leather. Ted didn’t talk to me while he drove, just like Peter. He took me in the same direction as Peter, but not to Marco’s. He drove into the packed parking lot of a bar just outside of town. There were rows of trucks and old beatup cars, a dozen motorcycles parked outside the front door. I could guess what he was doing, looked at him with pleading eyes. He just smiled.

We walked in together and everyone turned and stared. The blaring country music kept playing but everyone stopped talking. I saw them start to smile, a couple of them said “hi” to Ted. The bartender told everyone to just stay calm and added, “let’s not have any trouble like last time.” I felt my stomach drop. What did that mean?

Ted led me to the bar and ordered a beer and a glass of warm water for me. The song on the jukebox ended. The place was still dead quiet. It made me nervous and anxious, wondering what was going to happen. Everyone was still staring at me, sipping their whiskey or drinking their beer but not talking. Nobody seemed surprised or shocked. How often had they done this before?

A couple of women in short leather skirts walked up to me and just stared at my boots for a minute. “Damn, honey. That’s hardcore,” one of them said. The other circled around me, staring at my tits and ass. “Teddy, where the hell did you find this one?” She stopped in front of me and looked at my lips. I knew what she was looking at. Each of my lips was at least two inches thick, the skin pulled tight. She touched my lip, giggled and said loudly, “trout pout.” I’d never heard the word before but everyone around us started laughing. A man who was standing by the bar said, “naw. That’s more a of pussy mouth than a trout pout.” They started in on me then, a couple of men came closer, staring at my mouth. “Let’s see, honey. Open em up. Trout pout or pussy mouth?” I parted my lips just slightly, I didn’t want anyone seeing my missing teeth.

“Aw, we aren’t gonna be able to tell until we put something in there. Who’s first?” the man laughed. Everyone in the room laughed then, but the bartender yelled. “Fuck no, aw fuck no. We’re not doing *that* again.” He waved a baseball bat in the air and everyone quieted down.

“Fuck that,” the shorter woman in front of me yelled. “Put something on the juke box and let’s see the bitch dance.” She looked at me. “I want to see you dance with those boots on. And those fucking monster titties of yours.”

A raucous country rock some on, something about “liking this bar” and I started to sway my hips. The woman reached out quickly and tweaked my nipple through the leather. “Come on, bitch! Dance!”

I started moving then, waving my arms and shaking my ass, throwing my hair back and forth, arching my back so my huge titties shook inside their leather casing. It made me hot, dancing like that, I felt myself turned on and wanting to fuck. I wondered if Ted was going to make them fuck me…no, *let* them fuck me. I saw three or four of them I really wanted, rough looking guys who would ride me hard and make me cum.

When the music stopped, Ted finished his beer and walked me into the men’s room. I glory-holed the place for four hours before he took me home.

My titties were aching by the time we got back. So was my stomach. I don’t know how much cum I swallowed in four hours, but it had to be a lot. My belly felt stretched and bloated, swollen like my titties. Ted walked me into the milking room and I tore my clothes off right away, hurried to the bench and reached for the nipple cups. Ted laughed and took them out of my hands. “A little uncomfortable?” I said yes. “Be patient, the machine isn’t even on yet. Besides, it’s good for you and it’s going to happen a lot. Get used to it.” He leaned against the control desk. “Get up and pick up those clothes. Were you born in a barn?” he mocked me.

I got up off of the bench and bent over, picked up the leather top and pants, folded them, asked him where I should put them. “Just drop them on the floor,” he said with an evil chuckle. I begged him to start milking me, I felt like I was going to explode. He told me to lay back down so I did. He flipped the switch that turned on the machine and I listened with a sense of relief as the motor started clunking to life. He connected all of my restraints – tho he didn’t need to. I was craving the machine.

This time, though, he unscrewed some swivel connections and used them to secure my head in place, neck straight with my spine, eyes looking at the floor. He rolled a small device beside me and slid something horizontally between my lips. It was a cool piece of something hard covered with a rubber skin. He flipped a switch and it began moving up and down slowly, massaging my lips. I was turned on and felt my cunt start to ooze. I moaned and he patted my head.

Next, I felt his hands between my legs, stroking my huge, puffy cunt lips. He opened them and I nearly came. I felt something hard pressed against my right cunt lip, then sliding nearer my clit. I jerked and said “oooh!” as it attached itself to my clit. It was the third glass tube I saw the other day! He was milking my clit! It sucked on me only a few times before I came. And it kept sucking. I was going to go insane if it continued. He connected the cups to my nipples and I knew I wasn’t going to be last. The suction was incredible, like a thousand of the best lovers I’d ever head all rolled into one. I tried to squirm, to shake the suction cup off of my clit but it wasn’t going anywhere. I came again quickly, a small squirt of liquid shooting out of me. My brain was flooded with sensation. I felt drool running over my lips, over the small, stiff bar in my mouth. I was lost in the feelings when he started talking to me. I think I remember what he said. They were milking me all over now. The reason Ted needed me all along was that he was selling what he called a “secret special” perfume over the internet. It was refined from a combination of tit milk, pussy lubrication, and female ejaculate and saliva. Peter called him after me met me. He knew I would do anything Michael told me to do, he knew I enjoyed pain and he knew I would enjoy being turned into the sex machine he’d been designing. He was right. I abandoned myself to the machines more and more as Ted talked. Peter was one hundred percent right. I was enjoying every minute of my transformation. I wanted to beg him to push further with the modifications, to push Marco further with how he abused me when I came to his place, to push Thomas to throw away his designs and use me the way I was now as his starting point. I came and came as the machine sucked on my body, squirting again and again into the collector Ted put between my legs. I could see the bowl underneath my head filling with the precious liquid that was dripping down around the shaft, I wanted to find more ways they could abuse me, make more suggestions, give them more. I shook my head in frustration that there was nothing left for me to offer, no other parts of my body I could have him make useful. Maybe he could think of something.

… to be continued if people are interested …

SUZI IS INTRODUCED TO TED

Michael surprised me last night with a new pair of ballet boots. He said they were a treat because I’d done such a good job for Tony last week. He was right, I did. I worked for him four days in a row, which saved his company a lot of money. By the time they disconnected me from the machine, I was nearly crazy from stimulation. Tony promised me he would let me come back and work for him again in a few weeks.

The ballet boots are bright red and they lace all the way up my thigh. He had them specially made by the apprentice of a man who makes custom clothes for everyone from bikers to rock stars. The man initially said no, he’d never seen anything like me before. He’d worked with bondage freaks before but never with anyone whose body had been so thoroughly changed as mine. Michael laughed. He told the man – Daniel – that they weren’t done with me and that they would have plenty more business for him if he would work with us. The man turned us over to one of his apprentices, a young woman who didn’t seem to care who she was working for as long as she got paid.

He helped me into the boots then told me to put something on because we were taking a drive. I went to the closet and took one of my dresses off a hangar. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but all of my dresses are the same now – high necked, long sleeved things made of a clingy nylon fabric. They flare out from the waist to accommodate my huge bottom and end just a few inches above the knee. The dress is actually rather modest in cut, but with my body inside of it, it’s pornographic. Michael did provide me with different colors – burgundy, black, and red – and he lets me choose whichever color I want.

I followed him to the car and we pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t recognize the route we were driving, it wasn’t one of the places we’d gone before. I asked him about it but he didn’t answer just changed the subject.

We pulled into the driveway of a ranch house in the suburbs. It was well kept and I could see that he had a big building out back. I guessed I’d be spending time there. I turned out to be right, but not on this visit. Michael came around and opened the door for me, like a gentleman. He led me to the front door and rang the bell. The man who answered was middle aged with thinning hair and a pleasant face. He was casually dressed, tan pants and a light colored shirt, wearing brown deck shoes. I liked him right away, he seemed really nice.

Michael introduced him as Ted. They’d been talking on the telephone and Ted wanted to meet with Michael to talk about something. Some ideas he had. We followed him into the kitchen. He told me where the wine and glasses were and told me to pour one for me and one for Michael. He picked up a bottle of Groelsch beer and drank some. I poured Michael and me some white wine, handed Michael’s to him. Ted talked to Michael about the weather and sports and other junk until the doorbell rang. Ted told me to get it, so I did.

It was Peter and Thomas. They walked right past me and into the kitchen. “All right, I guess we’re all here,” Thomas said. He turned to Ted. “So, what’s the story?”

Ted took another drink of his beer, wiped his lip with a fingertip and set it down on the counter. “I’ve been talking to Peter about your Suzi. About your project.” Ted took a pile of papers out of a folder on the counter and spread them across the counter top. The men gathered around but I couldn’t see what they were looking at.

Ted started. “I like what you did here,” he pointed at something, “and here.” He shuffled the papers and picked one up. “But I think you’re really missed some opportunities. Now, this sketch…” he put it on the table in front of Thomas, “shows one of the options I think you should consider.”

I had to move out of the way as Thomas stepped back from the table, almost knocking me over. “I don’t know, Michael. Listen, no offense, Ted, but how did you get involved with this?”

Ted took a drink of his beer and pointed at Peter. “Peter and I go way back. Hell, I probably introduced him to his first latex bimbo he ever touched! And tit torture?” Ted chuckled. “This guy thought clothespins were high tech when I met him.” If that was true, Peter had certainly come a long way.

“Now, listen. I don’t want to make too big a deal of this, but I looked at the photos Peter showed me of your first bunch and I was pretty impressed. You’ve got a great imagination, Tommy, but you’re missing some of the details.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s my project.” I flinched. He could have at least said “*she’s* my project”. Would it hurt him to show me just a little bit of respect? Maybe it was too much to ask. Maybe I really am just an “it”.

Peter looked at Thomas and said something like, “Thomas, Ted’s got some great ideas here. And really, they just enhances what you’ve been working on.” Ted agreed. He said that nothing he wanted to do to me really changed what Thomas was after. He said he just wanted to take it a little bit further.

After a few more minutes of discussion about my body and who could make decisions about it, they agreed Ted could try out some of his ideas on me. Thomas must have still been a little angry, because he insisted that Ted pay for any modifications he designed. Ted agreed.

If you’re still reading this, I guess it means you like the idea of having two men designing my new body. It took Thomas a little time to warm up to the idea, but when they agreed they could both be working on me at the same time, he came around. In fact, he was more enthusiastic than I’d ever seen him in a long time. He had me come to his place three times in two days so he could take photos and scans of my body, load them into his computer, and manipulate them with his 3D software.

Like I expected, they put me under for the procedures. They were done in Thomas’s operating room, same as before. I don’t know how long I was in, they kept me drugged pretty good, but when I finally woke up, I didn’t feel any pain. I was hungry, though, and very thirsty. I didn’t sit up, there was a strap across my shoulders that kept me flat on the bed, but that was all right. Even thought I was awake, I was really tired.

Ted was the first to come see me after I woke up. He stood a few feet away and stared at me, his eyes going from my head to my toesies. I giggled at the thought, the pain killers were still making me high.

He asked me how I was feeling and I told him I was hungry and thirsty. He nodded his head, brought me back a glass of ice water and a straw. I sucked it down fast, it felt so good going down. But my mouth felt funny. I couldn’t tell what it was, but something was different. Oh well, with all these drugs in me, things were bound to feel different. I giggled again and fell back asleep.

I woke up feeling sore. My chest felt really sore and I couldn’t tell why. I moaned and Ted stood up. I guess he’d been sitting in a chair behind me the whole time, waiting for me to wake up.

“I’m fwore,” I hear myself say. It sounded thick and faraway. I tried to lick my lips but something felt funny. “Teddy… whuf hap-ped?” He leaned over me and ran his finger along my upper lip. “oooh!” I squealed. It was so sensitive I nearly came, a shudder ran from my mouth down through my nipples and all the way to my pussy, like they were all wired together. “You like that, do you?” I nodded.

I felt him push his finger into my mouth, touching the roof of my mouth as he slid it back and forth. I closed my lips around his cock … his finger, I mean, and heard a loud slurping sound. It was me. I was drooling all over myself, it was running down the sides of my face, soaking the back of my neck and my hair. I noticed something. It felt so smooth inside my mouth, his finger gliding side to side and up and down, everything in there soaking wet and soft and squishy like I had no teeth. The thought stuck in my head. Like I had no teeth. I moved my tongue around in my mouth and whimpered. There were no teeth in my mouth! Ted saw my face and leaned down, leered at me, shusshed me and told me to enjoy what was coming. He rubbed his finger along the roof of my mouth again, a little harder this time. I felt it all the way down to my clitoris. He rubbed three or four more times and I came, arching my hips and groaning loud, my body trembling and shaking. Then, I fell asleep.

I woke up even more hungry than I’d been before. And sore, my chest was so sore. Thomas was there, standing at the side of the bed talking to Ted. They were arguing over whether or not I would make more money for them with the pheromone-infused lubricant product or just from being pimped out.

When Ted heard me moan, he nudged Thomas and they both turned. “Milking time,” Ted said. Thomas shook his head. “Not yet.” Then, “feed her first.”

I turned my head to Thomas and asked “how wong hab I beh here?” I still couldn’t move my lips, they felt even more swollen and tender than before. Thomas stroked my forehead, stopped and raised my eyelid with his thumb, examined my pupils. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Weeks? A month?”

Ted came back with a glass and a rubber straw. He pushed the rubber straw into my mouth and told me to drink. I sucked hard, the banana-flavored liquid felt wonderful in my mouth. I drank the entire glass in just a few minutes, felt the cool liquid running down my throat, into my belly. He leaned over and wiped my mouth with a napkin, I felt the rush of arousal from the cotton touching me.

“You probably want to see, don’t you?” Ted asked. No, I thought. I never want to see what Thomas has done to me.

He went to the dresser and came back with a hand mirror and showed me my face. My lips were huge and puffy, big like a fish face. The skin was stretched tight, I knew that’s why there’s so sensitive. Ted slipped his thumb underneath my upper lip and lifted it. I was right, all of my teeth were gone. I stared at Ted with wide eyes. “Why?” He just shrugged. “You’ll wear dentures when we take you out in public, but…that probably won’t be very often, really.” He stood up, laid the mirror down across my legs. “And…” he pushed his finger deep into my mouth again, started rubbing the soft palate. I felt my clit swell and my nipples stiffen. “We’ve done a little work here. Kind of a Deep Throat thing. The back of your mouth is actually sending signals to your clit.” He rubbed faster and I shifted my hips. He wasn’t kidding. I came right away, shivering and moaning under his finger.

Thomas got up and pushed Ted aside. “OK, enough of the freak show. The big lips and soft mouth crap.” He gave Ted a dirty look. The modification of my mouth evidently caused some argument between them. “I want to show you what’s going to really bring in the customers.” He unbuckled the strap that was holding my shoulders to the bed and helped me sit up. Immediately, I felt the weight pulling at my chest.

“Oh gog, oh deah gog…” I moaned through my puffy and numb lips. Ted walked to the closet and came back with a floor length mirror, held it up in front of me. I turned my head and looked at Thomas. “How ig?”

He smiled. I knew he would smile, every one of his computer designs had huge, huge titties as part of them. I didn’t believe it was possible, but now I was living it. “How ig?” I asked again.

“You are in a very special class. Your 40DDs are now 40HH. Just to give you a sense of perspective, your titties are now just over 19 inches out from your chest.” I stared at the monsters on my chest. I didn’t feel like they were part of me. But the weight was a constant reminder. I tried to pull my shoulders back but couldn’t. I wondered how much each of them weighed.

Thomas ran his finger underneath my right tittie and it felt incredible. My nipple stiffened right away. I looked at the mirror – my areola was easily six inches across, maybe more, the stiff little nipple was lost in the middle. Thomas smiled at me, staring at myself in the mirror. “Something special, aren’t they?”

Ted walked up behind me, ran his hand down my back. “And we’re not done. In fact, we’re not even sure what ‘done’ is.” I was confused. “The hormone you’re taking is experimental for humans.” He said nonchalantly, “we’re not actually sure they’ll ever stop growing. And, it’s likely to have some effects on your ability to think clearly.” The thought scared me, but there was nothing I could do about it. It *did* seem to be getting harder to think but there wasn’t much for me to think about anymore. They did everything for me.

I bit my lip and kept staring at my tits in the mirror. I turned sideways. Now, my freakishly huge ass was matched by freakishly huge titties. I wondered what I would wear if they ever let me get dresssed.

As I stared in the mirror, I realized I was hungry again. My mouth was watering but I didn’t have a taste for anything in particular. I looked around the room, there was no food. But I smelled something I wanted, wasn’t sure what it was.

Thomas took a tape measure and wrapped it around my waist. “Well, this is just about all we have left to work on. Let’s give her a few weeks before we do that.” Ted nodded his head, watching me closely. He saw the look on my face. “Hungry or sore?” he asked. “Bowf,” I said. “What do you want to eat?” I felt my mouth watering but still couldn’t think of anything special. Then, I guessed. My body was a playtoy for a group of rich and horny men. What else would they make me crave if not cum? “I want to suck suh cock,” I said.

“No, you don’t,” Ted chuckled. “You think that we turned you into a cheap porn story, don’t you? ‘They made her a cum addict and turned her loose on the streets’ kind of thing?” I nodded my head. “You think we are *that* unimaginative?” He came up to me and put his hand on my cheek. “I’m insulted.” I didn’t know what to say so I just stood there.

“I’ll tell you what. We’re going to take care of the soreness for you.” He ran his hand over my right tit, I wanted to cum. Every part of me was stretched tight and hypersensitive. He ran his palm over my nipple and it stiffened, my pussy soaked itself and my eyes closed. I felt him squeezing my nipple between his finger and thumb, gently, tugging, pinching, tugging. I watched him, fascinated at how good it felt when it had just hurt. Then, I saw a few drops of milk squirt into the air and onto his fingers. I gasped.

“Come on. Milking time for Suzi slut,” he said. “Put on your boots.” I stared at him. Milking time? Peter had done that before, but with my titties so huge and sore, it was going to hurt. I protested, offered to suck their cocks, do anything they wanted but they weren’t interested. I complained again and Peter calmly asked if I wanted to go back in the Box. I decided to put on my boots.

That was a circus act in itself. I leaned sideways to reach for my boots which were at the foot of the bed, nearly fell off of the bed as the weight of my boobies shifted. I was going to have to learn to move slower. I pulled the boots to my side, then stared at my feet. They were so far away and there were two huge flesh-colored globes between them and me. I took the boot in my hand and tried to reach my foot, tried raising my leg, tried bending my knee and bring my foot up between my legs but nothing worked. Ted and Thomas sat watching me, amused at how much trouble I was having just putting on my shoes. I knew it was going to be impossible for me to lace them up once they were on. That was the first time I cried. Everything they were doing to me, they were doing with Michael’s permission and I was not going to ever let him down, but the futility of my situation hit me. I would not even be able to dress myself now to go outside of the house.

I cried for several minutes, Ted and Thomas just watching without saying a word. Finally, I pulled myself together and tried something different. I swung my right foot up and outward, bending my knee and letting it fall to the bed before my right leg. Success! I could only use one hand – there was no way my left hand was going to reach around those titties – but managed to work my foot into the boot. I let my leg slip off the bed onto the floor, then did the same with my left foot. The victory was tiny but sweet. I – a grown woman over 40 – had managed to put on my shoes. I looked at Thomas, feeling success but knowing it was really defeat. There was no way I would be able to tie them.

Ted watched me closely and when he gauged I’d wallowed in defeat long enough, he came across the room and laced and tied my boots.

“You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that,” he said when he finished.

“To Michael,” I said proudly. Ted and Thomas both smiled. They walked me down the hallway and into another room. There were implements and devices and furniture all around the walls, I recognized most of it from sessions with Michael and his friends or with others from my former life. One thing I remembered particularly well was the small suitcase Peter had brought to one of Marco’s parties, the milking machine. We walked past it though and into an adjacent, smaller room.

“Here we go,” Peter said. He patted a cushioned table – something between and barstool and an ottoman – and said “lay across this.” I rested my belly on the cushion, shoulders and hips hanging free off of either side. Peter went to work with a dozen different straps and chains and shackles; my thighs were strapped to the legs of the stool, my ankles shackled and pulled wide, held by chains connect to rings in the floor; my wrists were shackled as well, but joined and pulled up backward behind me, chained and secured from the ceiling. More straps held my waist and lower torso to the stool. My tits, shoulders and head hung free. The strain in my knees and in my shoulders was intense, the rest of me was more or less relaxed.

Peter raised my chin and turned my head slightly. I saw a big machine with a pressure dial at the top and only a few levers and knobs. “I’m rather proud of this. I found it in a small barn in Maine, bought it, and got it back into working order myself.” He patted the machine. “It is a Scottish Thistle milking machine from the late 19th century. One of the first to address the problem of intermittent suction. The machines before this used a constant suction that resulted in – as you Suzi can probably imagine – a good deal of unnecessary pain for the animal.”

I shuddered. The one Peter used on me at that party was a new one, electrical, up to date. This one came from the nineteenth century?

“Now this one,” Peter said, pressing a button. The machine started up with a loud sound, like a broken-down washing machine, clunking and groaning. “This one is steam driven. That’s the way they built it, that’s the way I’m going to use it.” He watched the needle on the gauge measure the pressure as it built up. I wasn’t looking at that, though. I was looking at the three glass tubes laying on a piece of cloth underneath the machine. Each of them had a thick rubber gasket at one end and a hose coming out of the other. All three were made of glass. Two of them were about ten inch long and three inches round. The other one was about six inches and only an inch and a half or so around. I shuddered to imagine what the big ones were going to feel like on my already hypersensitive titties. And I wondered about the third.

Ted came and sat on the floor in front of me, lifted my right boob with his hand. The relief felt wonderful, I still didn’t realize how much work my body was doing to support them. He cupped it, rubbed it slowly. I felt my pussy slick up, my clit swelling. I started grinding my belly against the cushion. Ted grinned. “Yeah, she’s gonna be a lot of fun,” he said.

“Honey, do you know why your titties are so sore?” I told him I presumed it was because of whatever they were giving me to make them grow so huge. He laughed at me. He said, “no, no. That’s why they’re so sensitive. You want to cum right now, don’t you?” I nodded. “Yeah. The growth hormone is why they feel good.” He let his hand down slowly, I felt the weight of my titty again, hanging free underneath me. “The reason they hurt is something else you’re getting in your food. This hormone *has* been tested and approved.” I watched Thomas press one of the suction cups against his palm, probably testing the suction. He adjusted one of the knobs.

Ted went on, “Well, it hasn’t been approved for humans, but we’re pretty confident it’s safe. It’s something farmers give their livestock to increase milk production.” Thomas picked up the other one and came closer to me. “Near as Tommy and me can tell, it adds about 2 full cup sizes to your titties. With the dose you’ve been getting, we think you’ll be good for nearly a quart a day.” He pressed them upward against my titties. I felt the suction right away and he let go. They hung down, tugging at me, alternately pumping and releasing. I moaned. “Oh fuch! It feel so oood!” And it did. The suction turned me and I nearly came in just a few minutes. I watched the milk drip out of me then vanish into the black tubing. The collector on the table next to the machine was a big two gallon glass bottle. I saw milk dripping from where the hose entered. There wasn’t much.

They left me attached to the machine for fifteen minutes, the pumps were sucking me titties long after anything was dripping into the bottle. Thomas turned off the machine and Ted slid the tubes off of my nipples. They were tender and stretched. He touched one with his finger and I flinched. He nodded to Thomas. “Good.”

Ted told me he’d probably have to milk me at least three times a day, maybe four. It would depend on how my body reacted to the hormone. They fed me, another serving of the same thick, banana-flavored drink they gave me before, then told me I was free for a few hours. The removed the belts and chains and helped me into a sitting position. My nipples and titties were sore but I was OK. Ted looked at his watch then they left the room.

I sat there for a long time, just resting. After a while, I got up and walked around the milking room. My long legs and the ballet boots made me so tall I had to duck my head to get under the fluorescent light. I had to relearn how to walk with my new tits. I had to hold my arms slightly back with my shoulders bowed and I had to lean forward a bit to keep my balance. When I stopped in front of the control panel and reached for the knobs, I froze. I couldn’t bring my arms together in front of me. After some experimentation, I learned that I could turn to the side and touch the knobs with my right hand, or turn to the other side and touch them with my left, but I couldn’t reach anything directly in front of me. I started crying then, I was turning more and more into their own science project, there was less and less left of me. My feet and legs, my ass and pussy hadn’t been mine for weeks, now not only my titties, but my arms and hands were part of their bizarre creation. I wanted to go back, wanted my old body back, but underneath it all, one thing was very clear. This is what Michael wants me to become. So this is what I will become.

I wiped my eyes – I had control of enough of my body to still do that – and walked around the room again, then lowered myself into a corner and sat and stared at the wall. There was no clock and time was dragging. I have no idea how long I was sitting there. I was bored, bored, bored.

Bored, but not tired. Anxious. On edge. I also knew I was aroused. The machine had done that, sucking on my nipples for so long. Even now – more than an hour later I was sure – they were tender and sensitive. Even just the gentle motion of shifting my position on the floor aroused them. I looked around again. The only things in the room were the bench, my constraints, and the machine. I inched myself up along the wall until I was standing and walked over to the machine. I touched the light green metal. It was cool and felt nice under my fingers. I leaned against it, first my butt and my back, then I turned around and pushed my titties up against the cold metal. It felt nice.

You can probably guess what I did, reader. When they came back for my next milking, I was humping the machine madly, my huge, swollen cunt lips wrapped around one of the metal legs, a pool of my own cum on the floor underneath me, my skin still wet where it had run down my legs and over my toes. Even my new, fat lips were part of the act, I was sucking and licking the metal like a starving bitch working on a cock. It was horrible and humiliating, but I realized that I loved the feeling of my toothless gums biting hard against the metal. There was a slight metallic tingle that went through me, like accidentally biting a piece of aluminum foil. I came again, moaning hard, then screaming. I heard one of them cough behind me and froze, terrified that I might be punished for what I was doing. The men just smiled at me. Thomas bent over and then crouched down, dipped his finger in my ejaculated mess. He sniffed it. “Ah,” was all he said.

They connected a new bottle to the machine and milked me again, this time for twenty minutes. I watched Thomas hold the two bottles up, comparing the volume from first milking to the second. Ted disconnected me and told me to back to my room. He started talking to Thomas but I didn’t hear what they said.

Back in my room, I felt tired and thought I would take a nap. I got into bed and laid down. My hugs tits made it hard for me to lay on my back, they fell to the sides and I couldn’t relax. So, I turned on my left side but still couldn’t get comfortable. I lay there for a little while, feeling more and more nervous. I knew what it was. I was a belly sleeper. Or, I *had been* a belly sleeper. Those days were gone. I thought about stacking pillows underneath my ribs to support me. I looked around. There were four pillows on the bed. I sat up and tried assembling them a few different ways, but nothing worked. I would be sleeping on my side from now on.

I tried that too, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I never was a side sleeper and now, I couldn’t even get my arms comfortable. I tried resting them along my side, then behind be, even above my head. Nothing worked. They had even taken my sleep away from me. Was that part of Peter’s kink? Or maybe Ted’s. I wondered if Marco would show me off at his parties now. I shook my head. Of course her would. All of them were tit freaks. And now I was the biggest tit freak of all.

I closed my eyes, still feeling the machine sucking on my nipples. Left, right, left, right. I smelled something sweet in the air, it turned me on. I opened my eyes and looked around the room but couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I closed my eyes again and ran a finger across my lower lip. It trembled in response to the light touch. My pussy felt it too and my hand instinctively slid between my legs and I was playing with myself again. It didn’t take long for me to cum – every part of my body was hyper-sensitive now. Peter’s cartoon was alive and real and horny and it couldn’t control itself.

Peter took me to a party that night. He dressed me in a huge, oversized flower print mu-mu, the only thing he had that would fit over my new titties. As we drove across town in his small car, I realized that something had changed in how I thought about Peter. When this all started and I realized that Peter has no boundaries, I was scared. Afraid of what he might do to me. But now, I realized that I was turned on look at him. Now, I saw him as confident, cruel and completely merciless. I found I was hoping Peter would take me somewhere so he could really work me over. What I knew now was that he was smart enough not to damage his investment. Whatever he was turning me into, he wouldn’t want to break it. At least I was pretty sure of that.

I was a little disappointed when he brought me back to Marco’s place. Marco would stuff me in his little hole in the floor and let people cum on me. He’d been severe with me that first night, but since then, I hadn’t been anything but a hole to him. Peter led me in. There was nobody there. That surprised me a little. Marco usually liked to have me entertain at parties. Peter walked me into the room I’d been whipped in the first time. Marco was there. He was naked except for a pair of knee-high leather boots and a red bandana. He reminded me of a pirate and I couldn’t suppress a giggle. I stared at his chest and arms. I had forgotten how ripped he was, a poster boy for steroids and free weights. His black hair was slicked back on his head, the bandana high on his forehead.

Peter and Marco didn’t say a word to me or to each other. While Peter closed the leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles, Marco just stood there, trailing the end of a long, single tailed leather whip back and forth on the floor in front of his boots. Peter started cranking the pulleys that I’d been in before, spreading my legs wide and pulling my arms up and outward. It was different this time though. Whatever they’d done to my legs and hips made it harder to spread them this way. And my huge titties hung heavy on my chest, making it hard for me to let my arms open wide. Peter didn’t care. He kept turning the handle. I heard the ‘click, click, click’ of the gears locking and then heard myself whimpering and then heard myself begging them to stop then heard Marco snap the whip in the air once, twice, three times before he brought it down across my chest.

The water woke me up. Marco was standing in front of me with an empty cup in his hand. Just like last time. No. Not like last time. I was so much more turned on that I’d been last time. He concentrated his whipping on my tits this time, the pain was excruciating but there was something else. My cunt was on fire, my clit huge and throbbing, I needed to cum. Why? I looked at Marco, his sweat-soaked body breathing hard, an evil smile on his face. I took a deep breath, the sweet smell of sweat making me dizzy with lust. Marco walked toward me and raised his arm, put his forearm in front of my huge, swollen lips. I opened my mouth, stuck my tongue out, licked his arm with long, wet strokes of my tongue. It tasted wonderful. He let me lick his other arm, then came closer. I ran my tongue over his sweaty biceps, pressed my lips hard, sucked his skin. I ran my tongue along the underside of his arm, pushed my face into his armpit, sucked the sweat off of the hair, slurping, listening to the saliva running down my chin and down his side. He turned and offered me the other pit. I dove in, sucking and licking, the sounds of my hunger filling the room.

He stepped back and I saw his cock was stiff and erect. He motioned to Peter who lowered my arms a few inches, just enough that Marco could shove his cock between my huge cunt lips. He pressed against me, moaned how soft I felt down there. Like fucking a pillow, like fucking a cloud. He fucked me a long, long time, buried so deep inside me I thought I would pass out. When he came, I did too, my body shaking and twisting against my bonds. Marco sat on the floor, his legs splayed, the whip on the floor beside him. Peter cranked the handle and lowered me to the ground. I crawled the few feet that separated us, buried my face in Marco’s crotch, licking and sucking every drop of sweat I could get to along the insides of his thighs, the crack of his crotch, his belly, his chest. I was going insane, it was a feast, the salty taste and the thick feel of the gunge in the fold of his crotch drove me crazy. Peter let me lick Marco’s tasty crotch for a long, long time before he took me back home.

Ted was waiting for me when we got back. Peter didn’t even let me get out of the car he just parked and got out and handed the keys to Ted. I held my arms underneath my tits, they were raw and tender from the whipping Marco had given them. They’d dressed me in a tight leather outfit. The pants were custom made for my huge ass and looked like they were painted on. The top was the same, long sleeves and a high collar and skintight. Every inch of me except my head and hands was encased in a second skin of tight, black leather. Ted didn’t talk to me while he drove, just like Peter. He took me in the same direction as Peter, but not to Marco’s. He drove into the packed parking lot of a bar just outside of town. There were rows of trucks and old beatup cars, a dozen motorcycles parked outside the front door. I could guess what he was doing, looked at him with pleading eyes. He just smiled.

We walked in together and everyone turned and stared. The blaring country music kept playing but everyone stopped talking. I saw them start to smile, a couple of them said “hi” to Ted. The bartender told everyone to just stay calm and added, “let’s not have any trouble like last time.” I felt my stomach drop. What did that mean?

Ted led me to the bar and ordered a beer and a glass of warm water for me. The song on the jukebox ended. The place was still dead quiet. It made me nervous and anxious, wondering what was going to happen. Everyone was still staring at me, sipping their whiskey or drinking their beer but not talking. Nobody seemed surprised or shocked. How often had they done this before?

A couple of women in short leather skirts walked up to me and just stared at my boots for a minute. “Damn, honey. That’s hardcore,” one of them said. The other circled around me, staring at my tits and ass. “Teddy, where the hell did you find this one?” She stopped in front of me and looked at my lips. I knew what she was looking at. Each of my lips was at least two inches thick, the skin pulled tight. She touched my lip, giggled and said loudly, “trout pout.” I’d never heard the word before but everyone around us started laughing. A man who was standing by the bar said, “naw. That’s more a of pussy mouth than a trout pout.” They started in on me then, a couple of men came closer, staring at my mouth. “Let’s see, honey. Open em up. Trout pout or pussy mouth?” I parted my lips just slightly, I didn’t want anyone seeing my missing teeth.

“Aw, we aren’t gonna be able to tell until we put something in there. Who’s first?” the man laughed. Everyone in the room laughed then, but the bartender yelled. “Fuck no, aw fuck no. We’re not doing *that* again.” He waved a baseball bat in the air and everyone quieted down.

“Fuck that,” the shorter woman in front of me yelled. “Put something on the juke box and let’s see the bitch dance.” She looked at me. “I want to see you dance with those boots on. And those fucking monster titties of yours.”

A raucous country rock some on, something about “liking this bar” and I started to sway my hips. The woman reached out quickly and tweaked my nipple through the leather. “Come on, bitch! Dance!”

I started moving then, waving my arms and shaking my ass, throwing my hair back and forth, arching my back so my huge titties shook inside their leather casing. It made me hot, dancing like that, I felt myself turned on and wanting to fuck. I wondered if Ted was going to make them fuck me…no, *let* them fuck me. I saw three or four of them I really wanted, rough looking guys who would ride me hard and make me cum.

When the music stopped, Ted finished his beer and walked me into the men’s room. I glory-holed the place for four hours before he took me home.

My titties were aching by the time we got back. So was my stomach. I don’t know how much cum I swallowed in four hours, but it had to be a lot. My belly felt stretched and bloated, swollen like my titties. Ted walked me into the milking room and I tore my clothes off right away, hurried to the bench and reached for the nipple cups. Ted laughed and took them out of my hands. “A little uncomfortable?” I said yes. “Be patient, the machine isn’t even on yet. Besides, it’s good for you and it’s going to happen a lot. Get used to it.” He leaned against the control desk. “Get up and pick up those clothes. Were you born in a barn?” he mocked me.

I got up off of the bench and bent over, picked up the leather top and pants, folded them, asked him where I should put them. “Just drop them on the floor,” he said with an evil chuckle. I begged him to start milking me, I felt like I was going to explode. He told me to lay back down so I did. He flipped the switch that turned on the machine and I listened with a sense of relief as the motor started clunking to life. He connected all of my restraints – tho he didn’t need to. I was craving the machine.

This time, though, he unscrewed some swivel connections and used them to secure my head in place, neck straight with my spine, eyes looking at the floor. He rolled a small device beside me and slid something horizontally between my lips. It was a cool piece of something hard covered with a rubber skin. He flipped a switch and it began moving up and down slowly, massaging my lips. I was turned on and felt my cunt start to ooze. I moaned and he patted my head.

Next, I felt his hands between my legs, stroking my huge, puffy cunt lips. He opened them and I nearly came. I felt something hard pressed against my right cunt lip, then sliding nearer my clit. I jerked and said “oooh!” as it attached itself to my clit. It was the third glass tube I saw the other day! He was milking my clit! It sucked on me only a few times before I came. And it kept sucking. I was going to go insane if it continued. He connected the cups to my nipples and I knew I wasn’t going to be last. The suction was incredible, like a thousand of the best lovers I’d ever head all rolled into one. I tried to squirm, to shake the suction cup off of my clit but it wasn’t going anywhere. I came again quickly, a small squirt of liquid shooting out of me. My brain was flooded with sensation. I felt drool running over my lips, over the small, stiff bar in my mouth. I was lost in the feelings when he started talking to me. I think I remember what he said. They were milking me all over now. The reason Ted needed me all along was that he was selling what he called a “secret special” perfume over the internet. It was refined from a combination of tit milk, pussy lubrication, and female ejaculate and saliva. Peter called him after me met me. He knew I would do anything Michael told me to do, he knew I enjoyed pain and he knew I would enjoy being turned into the sex machine he’d been designing. He was right. I abandoned myself to the machines more and more as Ted talked. Peter was one hundred percent right. I was enjoying every minute of my transformation. I wanted to beg him to push further with the modifications, to push Marco further with how he abused me when I came to his place, to push Thomas to throw away his designs and use me the way I was now as his starting point. I came and came as the machine sucked on my body, squirting again and again into the collector Ted put between my legs. I could see the bowl underneath my head filling with the precious liquid that was dripping down around the shaft, I wanted to find more ways they could abuse me, make more suggestions, give them more. I shook my head in frustration that there was nothing left for me to offer, no other parts of my body I could have him make useful. Maybe he could think of something.

… to be continued if people are interested …

SUZI IS INTRODUCED TO TED

Michael surprised me last night with a new pair of ballet boots. He said they were a treat because I’d done such a good job for Tony last week. He was right, I did. I worked for him four days in a row, which saved his company a lot of money. By the time they disconnected me from the machine, I was nearly crazy from stimulation. Tony promised me he would let me come back and work for him again in a few weeks.

The ballet boots are bright red and they lace all the way up my thigh. He had them specially made by the apprentice of a man who makes custom clothes for everyone from bikers to rock stars. The man initially said no, he’d never seen anything like me before. He’d worked with bondage freaks before but never with anyone whose body had been so thoroughly changed as mine. Michael laughed. He told the man – Daniel – that they weren’t done with me and that they would have plenty more business for him if he would work with us. The man turned us over to one of his apprentices, a young woman who didn’t seem to care who she was working for as long as she got paid.

He helped me into the boots then told me to put something on because we were taking a drive. I went to the closet and took one of my dresses off a hangar. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but all of my dresses are the same now – high necked, long sleeved things made of a clingy nylon fabric. They flare out from the waist to accommodate my huge bottom and end just a few inches above the knee. The dress is actually rather modest in cut, but with my body inside of it, it’s pornographic. Michael did provide me with different colors – burgundy, black, and red – and he lets me choose whichever color I want.

I followed him to the car and we pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t recognize the route we were driving, it wasn’t one of the places we’d gone before. I asked him about it but he didn’t answer just changed the subject.

We pulled into the driveway of a ranch house in the suburbs. It was well kept and I could see that he had a big building out back. I guessed I’d be spending time there. I turned out to be right, but not on this visit. Michael came around and opened the door for me, like a gentleman. He led me to the front door and rang the bell. The man who answered was middle aged with thinning hair and a pleasant face. He was casually dressed, tan pants and a light colored shirt, wearing brown deck shoes. I liked him right away, he seemed really nice.

Michael introduced him as Ted. They’d been talking on the telephone and Ted wanted to meet with Michael to talk about something. Some ideas he had. We followed him into the kitchen. He told me where the wine and glasses were and told me to pour one for me and one for Michael. He picked up a bottle of Groelsch beer and drank some. I poured Michael and me some white wine, handed Michael’s to him. Ted talked to Michael about the weather and sports and other junk until the doorbell rang. Ted told me to get it, so I did.

It was Peter and Thomas. They walked right past me and into the kitchen. “All right, I guess we’re all here,” Thomas said. He turned to Ted. “So, what’s the story?”

Ted took another drink of his beer, wiped his lip with a fingertip and set it down on the counter. “I’ve been talking to Peter about your Suzi. About your project.” Ted took a pile of papers out of a folder on the counter and spread them across the counter top. The men gathered around but I couldn’t see what they were looking at.

Ted started. “I like what you did here,” he pointed at something, “and here.” He shuffled the papers and picked one up. “But I think you’re really missed some opportunities. Now, this sketch…” he put it on the table in front of Thomas, “shows one of the options I think you should consider.”

I had to move out of the way as Thomas stepped back from the table, almost knocking me over. “I don’t know, Michael. Listen, no offense, Ted, but how did you get involved with this?”

Ted took a drink of his beer and pointed at Peter. “Peter and I go way back. Hell, I probably introduced him to his first latex bimbo he ever touched! And tit torture?” Ted chuckled. “This guy thought clothespins were high tech when I met him.” If that was true, Peter had certainly come a long way.

“Now, listen. I don’t want to make too big a deal of this, but I looked at the photos Peter showed me of your first bunch and I was pretty impressed. You’ve got a great imagination, Tommy, but you’re missing some of the details.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s my project.” I flinched. He could have at least said “*she’s* my project”. Would it hurt him to show me just a little bit of respect? Maybe it was too much to ask. Maybe I really am just an “it”.

Peter looked at Thomas and said something like, “Thomas, Ted’s got some great ideas here. And really, they just enhances what you’ve been working on.” Ted agreed. He said that nothing he wanted to do to me really changed what Thomas was after. He said he just wanted to take it a little bit further.

After a few more minutes of discussion about my body and who could make decisions about it, they agreed Ted could try out some of his ideas on me. Thomas must have still been a little angry, because he insisted that Ted pay for any modifications he designed. Ted agreed.

If you’re still reading this, I guess it means you like the idea of having two men designing my new body. It took Thomas a little time to warm up to the idea, but when they agreed they could both be working on me at the same time, he came around. In fact, he was more enthusiastic than I’d ever seen him in a long time. He had me come to his place three times in two days so he could take photos and scans of my body, load them into his computer, and manipulate them with his 3D software.

Like I expected, they put me under for the procedures. They were done in Thomas’s operating room, same as before. I don’t know how long I was in, they kept me drugged pretty good, but when I finally woke up, I didn’t feel any pain. I was hungry, though, and very thirsty. I didn’t sit up, there was a strap across my shoulders that kept me flat on the bed, but that was all right. Even thought I was awake, I was really tired.

Ted was the first to come see me after I woke up. He stood a few feet away and stared at me, his eyes going from my head to my toesies. I giggled at the thought, the pain killers were still making me high.

He asked me how I was feeling and I told him I was hungry and thirsty. He nodded his head, brought me back a glass of ice water and a straw. I sucked it down fast, it felt so good going down. But my mouth felt funny. I couldn’t tell what it was, but something was different. Oh well, with all these drugs in me, things were bound to feel different. I giggled again and fell back asleep.

I woke up feeling sore. My chest felt really sore and I couldn’t tell why. I moaned and Ted stood up. I guess he’d been sitting in a chair behind me the whole time, waiting for me to wake up.

“I’m fwore,” I hear myself say. It sounded thick and faraway. I tried to lick my lips but something felt funny. “Teddy… whuf hap-ped?” He leaned over me and ran his finger along my upper lip. “oooh!” I squealed. It was so sensitive I nearly came, a shudder ran from my mouth down through my nipples and all the way to my pussy, like they were all wired together. “You like that, do you?” I nodded.

I felt him push his finger into my mouth, touching the roof of my mouth as he slid it back and forth. I closed my lips around his cock … his finger, I mean, and heard a loud slurping sound. It was me. I was drooling all over myself, it was running down the sides of my face, soaking the back of my neck and my hair. I noticed something. It felt so smooth inside my mouth, his finger gliding side to side and up and down, everything in there soaking wet and soft and squishy like I had no teeth. The thought stuck in my head. Like I had no teeth. I moved my tongue around in my mouth and whimpered. There were no teeth in my mouth! Ted saw my face and leaned down, leered at me, shusshed me and told me to enjoy what was coming. He rubbed his finger along the roof of my mouth again, a little harder this time. I felt it all the way down to my clitoris. He rubbed three or four more times and I came, arching my hips and groaning loud, my body trembling and shaking. Then, I fell asleep.

I woke up even more hungry than I’d been before. And sore, my chest was so sore. Thomas was there, standing at the side of the bed talking to Ted. They were arguing over whether or not I would make more money for them with the pheromone-infused lubricant product or just from being pimped out.

When Ted heard me moan, he nudged Thomas and they both turned. “Milking time,” Ted said. Thomas shook his head. “Not yet.” Then, “feed her first.”

I turned my head to Thomas and asked “how wong hab I beh here?” I still couldn’t move my lips, they felt even more swollen and tender than before. Thomas stroked my forehead, stopped and raised my eyelid with his thumb, examined my pupils. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Weeks? A month?”

Ted came back with a glass and a rubber straw. He pushed the rubber straw into my mouth and told me to drink. I sucked hard, the banana-flavored liquid felt wonderful in my mouth. I drank the entire glass in just a few minutes, felt the cool liquid running down my throat, into my belly. He leaned over and wiped my mouth with a napkin, I felt the rush of arousal from the cotton touching me.

“You probably want to see, don’t you?” Ted asked. No, I thought. I never want to see what Thomas has done to me.

He went to the dresser and came back with a hand mirror and showed me my face. My lips were huge and puffy, big like a fish face. The skin was stretched tight, I knew that’s why there’s so sensitive. Ted slipped his thumb underneath my upper lip and lifted it. I was right, all of my teeth were gone. I stared at Ted with wide eyes. “Why?” He just shrugged. “You’ll wear dentures when we take you out in public, but…that probably won’t be very often, really.” He stood up, laid the mirror down across my legs. “And…” he pushed his finger deep into my mouth again, started rubbing the soft palate. I felt my clit swell and my nipples stiffen. “We’ve done a little work here. Kind of a Deep Throat thing. The back of your mouth is actually sending signals to your clit.” He rubbed faster and I shifted my hips. He wasn’t kidding. I came right away, shivering and moaning under his finger.

Thomas got up and pushed Ted aside. “OK, enough of the freak show. The big lips and soft mouth crap.” He gave Ted a dirty look. The modification of my mouth evidently caused some argument between them. “I want to show you what’s going to really bring in the customers.” He unbuckled the strap that was holding my shoulders to the bed and helped me sit up. Immediately, I felt the weight pulling at my chest.

“Oh gog, oh deah gog…” I moaned through my puffy and numb lips. Ted walked to the closet and came back with a floor length mirror, held it up in front of me. I turned my head and looked at Thomas. “How ig?”

He smiled. I knew he would smile, every one of his computer designs had huge, huge titties as part of them. I didn’t believe it was possible, but now I was living it. “How ig?” I asked again.

“You are in a very special class. Your 40DDs are now 40HH. Just to give you a sense of perspective, your titties are now just over 19 inches out from your chest.” I stared at the monsters on my chest. I didn’t feel like they were part of me. But the weight was a constant reminder. I tried to pull my shoulders back but couldn’t. I wondered how much each of them weighed.

Thomas ran his finger underneath my right tittie and it felt incredible. My nipple stiffened right away. I looked at the mirror – my areola was easily six inches across, maybe more, the stiff little nipple was lost in the middle. Thomas smiled at me, staring at myself in the mirror. “Something special, aren’t they?”

Ted walked up behind me, ran his hand down my back. “And we’re not done. In fact, we’re not even sure what ‘done’ is.” I was confused. “The hormone you’re taking is experimental for humans.” He said nonchalantly, “we’re not actually sure they’ll ever stop growing. And, it’s likely to have some effects on your ability to think clearly.” The thought scared me, but there was nothing I could do about it. It *did* seem to be getting harder to think but there wasn’t much for me to think about anymore. They did everything for me.

I bit my lip and kept staring at my tits in the mirror. I turned sideways. Now, my freakishly huge ass was matched by freakishly huge titties. I wondered what I would wear if they ever let me get dresssed.

As I stared in the mirror, I realized I was hungry again. My mouth was watering but I didn’t have a taste for anything in particular. I looked around the room, there was no food. But I smelled something I wanted, wasn’t sure what it was.

Thomas took a tape measure and wrapped it around my waist. “Well, this is just about all we have left to work on. Let’s give her a few weeks before we do that.” Ted nodded his head, watching me closely. He saw the look on my face. “Hungry or sore?” he asked. “Bowf,” I said. “What do you want to eat?” I felt my mouth watering but still couldn’t think of anything special. Then, I guessed. My body was a playtoy for a group of rich and horny men. What else would they make me crave if not cum? “I want to suck suh cock,” I said.

“No, you don’t,” Ted chuckled. “You think that we turned you into a cheap porn story, don’t you? ‘They made her a cum addict and turned her loose on the streets’ kind of thing?” I nodded my head. “You think we are *that* unimaginative?” He came up to me and put his hand on my cheek. “I’m insulted.” I didn’t know what to say so I just stood there.

“I’ll tell you what. We’re going to take care of the soreness for you.” He ran his hand over my right tit, I wanted to cum. Every part of me was stretched tight and hypersensitive. He ran his palm over my nipple and it stiffened, my pussy soaked itself and my eyes closed. I felt him squeezing my nipple between his finger and thumb, gently, tugging, pinching, tugging. I watched him, fascinated at how good it felt when it had just hurt. Then, I saw a few drops of milk squirt into the air and onto his fingers. I gasped.

“Come on. Milking time for Suzi slut,” he said. “Put on your boots.” I stared at him. Milking time? Peter had done that before, but with my titties so huge and sore, it was going to hurt. I protested, offered to suck their cocks, do anything they wanted but they weren’t interested. I complained again and Peter calmly asked if I wanted to go back in the Box. I decided to put on my boots.

That was a circus act in itself. I leaned sideways to reach for my boots which were at the foot of the bed, nearly fell off of the bed as the weight of my boobies shifted. I was going to have to learn to move slower. I pulled the boots to my side, then stared at my feet. They were so far away and there were two huge flesh-colored globes between them and me. I took the boot in my hand and tried to reach my foot, tried raising my leg, tried bending my knee and bring my foot up between my legs but nothing worked. Ted and Thomas sat watching me, amused at how much trouble I was having just putting on my shoes. I knew it was going to be impossible for me to lace them up once they were on. That was the first time I cried. Everything they were doing to me, they were doing with Michael’s permission and I was not going to ever let him down, but the futility of my situation hit me. I would not even be able to dress myself now to go outside of the house.

I cried for several minutes, Ted and Thomas just watching without saying a word. Finally, I pulled myself together and tried something different. I swung my right foot up and outward, bending my knee and letting it fall to the bed before my right leg. Success! I could only use one hand – there was no way my left hand was going to reach around those titties – but managed to work my foot into the boot. I let my leg slip off the bed onto the floor, then did the same with my left foot. The victory was tiny but sweet. I – a grown woman over 40 – had managed to put on my shoes. I looked at Thomas, feeling success but knowing it was really defeat. There was no way I would be able to tie them.

Ted watched me closely and when he gauged I’d wallowed in defeat long enough, he came across the room and laced and tied my boots.

“You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that,” he said when he finished.

“To Michael,” I said proudly. Ted and Thomas both smiled. They walked me down the hallway and into another room. There were implements and devices and furniture all around the walls, I recognized most of it from sessions with Michael and his friends or with others from my former life. One thing I remembered particularly well was the small suitcase Peter had brought to one of Marco’s parties, the milking machine. We walked past it though and into an adjacent, smaller room.

“Here we go,” Peter said. He patted a cushioned table – something between and barstool and an ottoman – and said “lay across this.” I rested my belly on the cushion, shoulders and hips hanging free off of either side. Peter went to work with a dozen different straps and chains and shackles; my thighs were strapped to the legs of the stool, my ankles shackled and pulled wide, held by chains connect to rings in the floor; my wrists were shackled as well, but joined and pulled up backward behind me, chained and secured from the ceiling. More straps held my waist and lower torso to the stool. My tits, shoulders and head hung free. The strain in my knees and in my shoulders was intense, the rest of me was more or less relaxed.

Peter raised my chin and turned my head slightly. I saw a big machine with a pressure dial at the top and only a few levers and knobs. “I’m rather proud of this. I found it in a small barn in Maine, bought it, and got it back into working order myself.” He patted the machine. “It is a Scottish Thistle milking machine from the late 19th century. One of the first to address the problem of intermittent suction. The machines before this used a constant suction that resulted in – as you Suzi can probably imagine – a good deal of unnecessary pain for the animal.”

I shuddered. The one Peter used on me at that party was a new one, electrical, up to date. This one came from the nineteenth century?

“Now this one,” Peter said, pressing a button. The machine started up with a loud sound, like a broken-down washing machine, clunking and groaning. “This one is steam driven. That’s the way they built it, that’s the way I’m going to use it.” He watched the needle on the gauge measure the pressure as it built up. I wasn’t looking at that, though. I was looking at the three glass tubes laying on a piece of cloth underneath the machine. Each of them had a thick rubber gasket at one end and a hose coming out of the other. All three were made of glass. Two of them were about ten inch long and three inches round. The other one was about six inches and only an inch and a half or so around. I shuddered to imagine what the big ones were going to feel like on my already hypersensitive titties. And I wondered about the third.

Ted came and sat on the floor in front of me, lifted my right boob with his hand. The relief felt wonderful, I still didn’t realize how much work my body was doing to support them. He cupped it, rubbed it slowly. I felt my pussy slick up, my clit swelling. I started grinding my belly against the cushion. Ted grinned. “Yeah, she’s gonna be a lot of fun,” he said.

“Honey, do you know why your titties are so sore?” I told him I presumed it was because of whatever they were giving me to make them grow so huge. He laughed at me. He said, “no, no. That’s why they’re so sensitive. You want to cum right now, don’t you?” I nodded. “Yeah. The growth hormone is why they feel good.” He let his hand down slowly, I felt the weight of my titty again, hanging free underneath me. “The reason they hurt is something else you’re getting in your food. This hormone *has* been tested and approved.” I watched Thomas press one of the suction cups against his palm, probably testing the suction. He adjusted one of the knobs.

Ted went on, “Well, it hasn’t been approved for humans, but we’re pretty confident it’s safe. It’s something farmers give their livestock to increase milk production.” Thomas picked up the other one and came closer to me. “Near as Tommy and me can tell, it adds about 2 full cup sizes to your titties. With the dose you’ve been getting, we think you’ll be good for nearly a quart a day.” He pressed them upward against my titties. I felt the suction right away and he let go. They hung down, tugging at me, alternately pumping and releasing. I moaned. “Oh fuch! It feel so oood!” And it did. The suction turned me and I nearly came in just a few minutes. I watched the milk drip out of me then vanish into the black tubing. The collector on the table next to the machine was a big two gallon glass bottle. I saw milk dripping from where the hose entered. There wasn’t much.

They left me attached to the machine for fifteen minutes, the pumps were sucking me titties long after anything was dripping into the bottle. Thomas turned off the machine and Ted slid the tubes off of my nipples. They were tender and stretched. He touched one with his finger and I flinched. He nodded to Thomas. “Good.”

Ted told me he’d probably have to milk me at least three times a day, maybe four. It would depend on how my body reacted to the hormone. They fed me, another serving of the same thick, banana-flavored drink they gave me before, then told me I was free for a few hours. The removed the belts and chains and helped me into a sitting position. My nipples and titties were sore but I was OK. Ted looked at his watch then they left the room.

I sat there for a long time, just resting. After a while, I got up and walked around the milking room. My long legs and the ballet boots made me so tall I had to duck my head to get under the fluorescent light. I had to relearn how to walk with my new tits. I had to hold my arms slightly back with my shoulders bowed and I had to lean forward a bit to keep my balance. When I stopped in front of the control panel and reached for the knobs, I froze. I couldn’t bring my arms together in front of me. After some experimentation, I learned that I could turn to the side and touch the knobs with my right hand, or turn to the other side and touch them with my left, but I couldn’t reach anything directly in front of me. I started crying then, I was turning more and more into their own science project, there was less and less left of me. My feet and legs, my ass and pussy hadn’t been mine for weeks, now not only my titties, but my arms and hands were part of their bizarre creation. I wanted to go back, wanted my old body back, but underneath it all, one thing was very clear. This is what Michael wants me to become. So this is what I will become.

I wiped my eyes – I had control of enough of my body to still do that – and walked around the room again, then lowered myself into a corner and sat and stared at the wall. There was no clock and time was dragging. I have no idea how long I was sitting there. I was bored, bored, bored.

Bored, but not tired. Anxious. On edge. I also knew I was aroused. The machine had done that, sucking on my nipples for so long. Even now – more than an hour later I was sure – they were tender and sensitive. Even just the gentle motion of shifting my position on the floor aroused them. I looked around again. The only things in the room were the bench, my constraints, and the machine. I inched myself up along the wall until I was standing and walked over to the machine. I touched the light green metal. It was cool and felt nice under my fingers. I leaned against it, first my butt and my back, then I turned around and pushed my titties up against the cold metal. It felt nice.

You can probably guess what I did, reader. When they came back for my next milking, I was humping the machine madly, my huge, swollen cunt lips wrapped around one of the metal legs, a pool of my own cum on the floor underneath me, my skin still wet where it had run down my legs and over my toes. Even my new, fat lips were part of the act, I was sucking and licking the metal like a starving bitch working on a cock. It was horrible and humiliating, but I realized that I loved the feeling of my toothless gums biting hard against the metal. There was a slight metallic tingle that went through me, like accidentally biting a piece of aluminum foil. I came again, moaning hard, then screaming. I heard one of them cough behind me and froze, terrified that I might be punished for what I was doing. The men just smiled at me. Thomas bent over and then crouched down, dipped his finger in my ejaculated mess. He sniffed it. “Ah,” was all he said.

They connected a new bottle to the machine and milked me again, this time for twenty minutes. I watched Thomas hold the two bottles up, comparing the volume from first milking to the second. Ted disconnected me and told me to back to my room. He started talking to Thomas but I didn’t hear what they said.

Back in my room, I felt tired and thought I would take a nap. I got into bed and laid down. My hugs tits made it hard for me to lay on my back, they fell to the sides and I couldn’t relax. So, I turned on my left side but still couldn’t get comfortable. I lay there for a little while, feeling more and more nervous. I knew what it was. I was a belly sleeper. Or, I *had been* a belly sleeper. Those days were gone. I thought about stacking pillows underneath my ribs to support me. I looked around. There were four pillows on the bed. I sat up and tried assembling them a few different ways, but nothing worked. I would be sleeping on my side from now on.

I tried that too, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I never was a side sleeper and now, I couldn’t even get my arms comfortable. I tried resting them along my side, then behind be, even above my head. Nothing worked. They had even taken my sleep away from me. Was that part of Peter’s kink? Or maybe Ted’s. I wondered if Marco would show me off at his parties now. I shook my head. Of course her would. All of them were tit freaks. And now I was the biggest tit freak of all.

I closed my eyes, still feeling the machine sucking on my nipples. Left, right, left, right. I smelled something sweet in the air, it turned me on. I opened my eyes and looked around the room but couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I closed my eyes again and ran a finger across my lower lip. It trembled in response to the light touch. My pussy felt it too and my hand instinctively slid between my legs and I was playing with myself again. It didn’t take long for me to cum – every part of my body was hyper-sensitive now. Peter’s cartoon was alive and real and horny and it couldn’t control itself.

Peter took me to a party that night. He dressed me in a huge, oversized flower print mu-mu, the only thing he had that would fit over my new titties. As we drove across town in his small car, I realized that something had changed in how I thought about Peter. When this all started and I realized that Peter has no boundaries, I was scared. Afraid of what he might do to me. But now, I realized that I was turned on look at him. Now, I saw him as confident, cruel and completely merciless. I found I was hoping Peter would take me somewhere so he could really work me over. What I knew now was that he was smart enough not to damage his investment. Whatever he was turning me into, he wouldn’t want to break it. At least I was pretty sure of that.

I was a little disappointed when he brought me back to Marco’s place. Marco would stuff me in his little hole in the floor and let people cum on me. He’d been severe with me that first night, but since then, I hadn’t been anything but a hole to him. Peter led me in. There was nobody there. That surprised me a little. Marco usually liked to have me entertain at parties. Peter walked me into the room I’d been whipped in the first time. Marco was there. He was naked except for a pair of knee-high leather boots and a red bandana. He reminded me of a pirate and I couldn’t suppress a giggle. I stared at his chest and arms. I had forgotten how ripped he was, a poster boy for steroids and free weights. His black hair was slicked back on his head, the bandana high on his forehead.

Peter and Marco didn’t say a word to me or to each other. While Peter closed the leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles, Marco just stood there, trailing the end of a long, single tailed leather whip back and forth on the floor in front of his boots. Peter started cranking the pulleys that I’d been in before, spreading my legs wide and pulling my arms up and outward. It was different this time though. Whatever they’d done to my legs and hips made it harder to spread them this way. And my huge titties hung heavy on my chest, making it hard for me to let my arms open wide. Peter didn’t care. He kept turning the handle. I heard the ‘click, click, click’ of the gears locking and then heard myself whimpering and then heard myself begging them to stop then heard Marco snap the whip in the air once, twice, three times before he brought it down across my chest.

The water woke me up. Marco was standing in front of me with an empty cup in his hand. Just like last time. No. Not like last time. I was so much more turned on that I’d been last time. He concentrated his whipping on my tits this time, the pain was excruciating but there was something else. My cunt was on fire, my clit huge and throbbing, I needed to cum. Why? I looked at Marco, his sweat-soaked body breathing hard, an evil smile on his face. I took a deep breath, the sweet smell of sweat making me dizzy with lust. Marco walked toward me and raised his arm, put his forearm in front of my huge, swollen lips. I opened my mouth, stuck my tongue out, licked his arm with long, wet strokes of my tongue. It tasted wonderful. He let me lick his other arm, then came closer. I ran my tongue over his sweaty biceps, pressed my lips hard, sucked his skin. I ran my tongue along the underside of his arm, pushed my face into his armpit, sucked the sweat off of the hair, slurping, listening to the saliva running down my chin and down his side. He turned and offered me the other pit. I dove in, sucking and licking, the sounds of my hunger filling the room.

He stepped back and I saw his cock was stiff and erect. He motioned to Peter who lowered my arms a few inches, just enough that Marco could shove his cock between my huge cunt lips. He pressed against me, moaned how soft I felt down there. Like fucking a pillow, like fucking a cloud. He fucked me a long, long time, buried so deep inside me I thought I would pass out. When he came, I did too, my body shaking and twisting against my bonds. Marco sat on the floor, his legs splayed, the whip on the floor beside him. Peter cranked the handle and lowered me to the ground. I crawled the few feet that separated us, buried my face in Marco’s crotch, licking and sucking every drop of sweat I could get to along the insides of his thighs, the crack of his crotch, his belly, his chest. I was going insane, it was a feast, the salty taste and the thick feel of the gunge in the fold of his crotch drove me crazy. Peter let me lick Marco’s tasty crotch for a long, long time before he took me back home.

Ted was waiting for me when we got back. Peter didn’t even let me get out of the car he just parked and got out and handed the keys to Ted. I held my arms underneath my tits, they were raw and tender from the whipping Marco had given them. They’d dressed me in a tight leather outfit. The pants were custom made for my huge ass and looked like they were painted on. The top was the same, long sleeves and a high collar and skintight. Every inch of me except my head and hands was encased in a second skin of tight, black leather. Ted didn’t talk to me while he drove, just like Peter. He took me in the same direction as Peter, but not to Marco’s. He drove into the packed parking lot of a bar just outside of town. There were rows of trucks and old beatup cars, a dozen motorcycles parked outside the front door. I could guess what he was doing, looked at him with pleading eyes. He just smiled.

We walked in together and everyone turned and stared. The blaring country music kept playing but everyone stopped talking. I saw them start to smile, a couple of them said “hi” to Ted. The bartender told everyone to just stay calm and added, “let’s not have any trouble like last time.” I felt my stomach drop. What did that mean?

Ted led me to the bar and ordered a beer and a glass of warm water for me. The song on the jukebox ended. The place was still dead quiet. It made me nervous and anxious, wondering what was going to happen. Everyone was still staring at me, sipping their whiskey or drinking their beer but not talking. Nobody seemed surprised or shocked. How often had they done this before?

A couple of women in short leather skirts walked up to me and just stared at my boots for a minute. “Damn, honey. That’s hardcore,” one of them said. The other circled around me, staring at my tits and ass. “Teddy, where the hell did you find this one?” She stopped in front of me and looked at my lips. I knew what she was looking at. Each of my lips was at least two inches thick, the skin pulled tight. She touched my lip, giggled and said loudly, “trout pout.” I’d never heard the word before but everyone around us started laughing. A man who was standing by the bar said, “naw. That’s more a of pussy mouth than a trout pout.” They started in on me then, a couple of men came closer, staring at my mouth. “Let’s see, honey. Open em up. Trout pout or pussy mouth?” I parted my lips just slightly, I didn’t want anyone seeing my missing teeth.

“Aw, we aren’t gonna be able to tell until we put something in there. Who’s first?” the man laughed. Everyone in the room laughed then, but the bartender yelled. “Fuck no, aw fuck no. We’re not doing *that* again.” He waved a baseball bat in the air and everyone quieted down.

“Fuck that,” the shorter woman in front of me yelled. “Put something on the juke box and let’s see the bitch dance.” She looked at me. “I want to see you dance with those boots on. And those fucking monster titties of yours.”

A raucous country rock some on, something about “liking this bar” and I started to sway my hips. The woman reached out quickly and tweaked my nipple through the leather. “Come on, bitch! Dance!”

I started moving then, waving my arms and shaking my ass, throwing my hair back and forth, arching my back so my huge titties shook inside their leather casing. It made me hot, dancing like that, I felt myself turned on and wanting to fuck. I wondered if Ted was going to make them fuck me…no, *let* them fuck me. I saw three or four of them I really wanted, rough looking guys who would ride me hard and make me cum.

When the music stopped, Ted finished his beer and walked me into the men’s room. I glory-holed the place for four hours before he took me home.

My titties were aching by the time we got back. So was my stomach. I don’t know how much cum I swallowed in four hours, but it had to be a lot. My belly felt stretched and bloated, swollen like my titties. Ted walked me into the milking room and I tore my clothes off right away, hurried to the bench and reached for the nipple cups. Ted laughed and took them out of my hands. “A little uncomfortable?” I said yes. “Be patient, the machine isn’t even on yet. Besides, it’s good for you and it’s going to happen a lot. Get used to it.” He leaned against the control desk. “Get up and pick up those clothes. Were you born in a barn?” he mocked me.

I got up off of the bench and bent over, picked up the leather top and pants, folded them, asked him where I should put them. “Just drop them on the floor,” he said with an evil chuckle. I begged him to start milking me, I felt like I was going to explode. He told me to lay back down so I did. He flipped the switch that turned on the machine and I listened with a sense of relief as the motor started clunking to life. He connected all of my restraints – tho he didn’t need to. I was craving the machine.

This time, though, he unscrewed some swivel connections and used them to secure my head in place, neck straight with my spine, eyes looking at the floor. He rolled a small device beside me and slid something horizontally between my lips. It was a cool piece of something hard covered with a rubber skin. He flipped a switch and it began moving up and down slowly, massaging my lips. I was turned on and felt my cunt start to ooze. I moaned and he patted my head.

Next, I felt his hands between my legs, stroking my huge, puffy cunt lips. He opened them and I nearly came. I felt something hard pressed against my right cunt lip, then sliding nearer my clit. I jerked and said “oooh!” as it attached itself to my clit. It was the third glass tube I saw the other day! He was milking my clit! It sucked on me only a few times before I came. And it kept sucking. I was going to go insane if it continued. He connected the cups to my nipples and I knew I wasn’t going to be last. The suction was incredible, like a thousand of the best lovers I’d ever head all rolled into one. I tried to squirm, to shake the suction cup off of my clit but it wasn’t going anywhere. I came again quickly, a small squirt of liquid shooting out of me. My brain was flooded with sensation. I felt drool running over my lips, over the small, stiff bar in my mouth. I was lost in the feelings when he started talking to me. I think I remember what he said. They were milking me all over now. The reason Ted needed me all along was that he was selling what he called a “secret special” perfume over the internet. It was refined from a combination of tit milk, pussy lubrication, and female ejaculate and saliva. Peter called him after me met me. He knew I would do anything Michael told me to do, he knew I enjoyed pain and he knew I would enjoy being turned into the sex machine he’d been designing. He was right. I abandoned myself to the machines more and more as Ted talked. Peter was one hundred percent right. I was enjoying every minute of my transformation. I wanted to beg him to push further with the modifications, to push Marco further with how he abused me when I came to his place, to push Thomas to throw away his designs and use me the way I was now as his starting point. I came and came as the machine sucked on my body, squirting again and again into the collector Ted put between my legs. I could see the bowl underneath my head filling with the precious liquid that was dripping down around the shaft, I wanted to find more ways they could abuse me, make more suggestions, give them more. I shook my head in frustration that there was nothing left for me to offer, no other parts of my body I could have him make useful. Maybe he could think of something.

… to be continued if people are interested …

SUZI IS INTRODUCED TO TED

Michael surprised me last night with a new pair of ballet boots. He said they were a treat because I’d done such a good job for Tony last week. He was right, I did. I worked for him four days in a row, which saved his company a lot of money. By the time they disconnected me from the machine, I was nearly crazy from stimulation. Tony promised me he would let me come back and work for him again in a few weeks.

The ballet boots are bright red and they lace all the way up my thigh. He had them specially made by the apprentice of a man who makes custom clothes for everyone from bikers to rock stars. The man initially said no, he’d never seen anything like me before. He’d worked with bondage freaks before but never with anyone whose body had been so thoroughly changed as mine. Michael laughed. He told the man – Daniel – that they weren’t done with me and that they would have plenty more business for him if he would work with us. The man turned us over to one of his apprentices, a young woman who didn’t seem to care who she was working for as long as she got paid.

He helped me into the boots then told me to put something on because we were taking a drive. I went to the closet and took one of my dresses off a hangar. I don’t know if I mentioned it, but all of my dresses are the same now – high necked, long sleeved things made of a clingy nylon fabric. They flare out from the waist to accommodate my huge bottom and end just a few inches above the knee. The dress is actually rather modest in cut, but with my body inside of it, it’s pornographic. Michael did provide me with different colors – burgundy, black, and red – and he lets me choose whichever color I want.

I followed him to the car and we pulled out of the driveway. I didn’t recognize the route we were driving, it wasn’t one of the places we’d gone before. I asked him about it but he didn’t answer just changed the subject.

We pulled into the driveway of a ranch house in the suburbs. It was well kept and I could see that he had a big building out back. I guessed I’d be spending time there. I turned out to be right, but not on this visit. Michael came around and opened the door for me, like a gentleman. He led me to the front door and rang the bell. The man who answered was middle aged with thinning hair and a pleasant face. He was casually dressed, tan pants and a light colored shirt, wearing brown deck shoes. I liked him right away, he seemed really nice.

Michael introduced him as Ted. They’d been talking on the telephone and Ted wanted to meet with Michael to talk about something. Some ideas he had. We followed him into the kitchen. He told me where the wine and glasses were and told me to pour one for me and one for Michael. He picked up a bottle of Groelsch beer and drank some. I poured Michael and me some white wine, handed Michael’s to him. Ted talked to Michael about the weather and sports and other junk until the doorbell rang. Ted told me to get it, so I did.

It was Peter and Thomas. They walked right past me and into the kitchen. “All right, I guess we’re all here,” Thomas said. He turned to Ted. “So, what’s the story?”

Ted took another drink of his beer, wiped his lip with a fingertip and set it down on the counter. “I’ve been talking to Peter about your Suzi. About your project.” Ted took a pile of papers out of a folder on the counter and spread them across the counter top. The men gathered around but I couldn’t see what they were looking at.

Ted started. “I like what you did here,” he pointed at something, “and here.” He shuffled the papers and picked one up. “But I think you’re really missed some opportunities. Now, this sketch…” he put it on the table in front of Thomas, “shows one of the options I think you should consider.”

I had to move out of the way as Thomas stepped back from the table, almost knocking me over. “I don’t know, Michael. Listen, no offense, Ted, but how did you get involved with this?”

Ted took a drink of his beer and pointed at Peter. “Peter and I go way back. Hell, I probably introduced him to his first latex bimbo he ever touched! And tit torture?” Ted chuckled. “This guy thought clothespins were high tech when I met him.” If that was true, Peter had certainly come a long way.

“Now, listen. I don’t want to make too big a deal of this, but I looked at the photos Peter showed me of your first bunch and I was pretty impressed. You’ve got a great imagination, Tommy, but you’re missing some of the details.”

Thomas shook his head. “It’s my project.” I flinched. He could have at least said “*she’s* my project”. Would it hurt him to show me just a little bit of respect? Maybe it was too much to ask. Maybe I really am just an “it”.

Peter looked at Thomas and said something like, “Thomas, Ted’s got some great ideas here. And really, they just enhances what you’ve been working on.” Ted agreed. He said that nothing he wanted to do to me really changed what Thomas was after. He said he just wanted to take it a little bit further.

After a few more minutes of discussion about my body and who could make decisions about it, they agreed Ted could try out some of his ideas on me. Thomas must have still been a little angry, because he insisted that Ted pay for any modifications he designed. Ted agreed.

If you’re still reading this, I guess it means you like the idea of having two men designing my new body. It took Thomas a little time to warm up to the idea, but when they agreed they could both be working on me at the same time, he came around. In fact, he was more enthusiastic than I’d ever seen him in a long time. He had me come to his place three times in two days so he could take photos and scans of my body, load them into his computer, and manipulate them with his 3D software.

Like I expected, they put me under for the procedures. They were done in Thomas’s operating room, same as before. I don’t know how long I was in, they kept me drugged pretty good, but when I finally woke up, I didn’t feel any pain. I was hungry, though, and very thirsty. I didn’t sit up, there was a strap across my shoulders that kept me flat on the bed, but that was all right. Even thought I was awake, I was really tired.

Ted was the first to come see me after I woke up. He stood a few feet away and stared at me, his eyes going from my head to my toesies. I giggled at the thought, the pain killers were still making me high.

He asked me how I was feeling and I told him I was hungry and thirsty. He nodded his head, brought me back a glass of ice water and a straw. I sucked it down fast, it felt so good going down. But my mouth felt funny. I couldn’t tell what it was, but something was different. Oh well, with all these drugs in me, things were bound to feel different. I giggled again and fell back asleep.

I woke up feeling sore. My chest felt really sore and I couldn’t tell why. I moaned and Ted stood up. I guess he’d been sitting in a chair behind me the whole time, waiting for me to wake up.

“I’m fwore,” I hear myself say. It sounded thick and faraway. I tried to lick my lips but something felt funny. “Teddy… whuf hap-ped?” He leaned over me and ran his finger along my upper lip. “oooh!” I squealed. It was so sensitive I nearly came, a shudder ran from my mouth down through my nipples and all the way to my pussy, like they were all wired together. “You like that, do you?” I nodded.

I felt him push his finger into my mouth, touching the roof of my mouth as he slid it back and forth. I closed my lips around his cock … his finger, I mean, and heard a loud slurping sound. It was me. I was drooling all over myself, it was running down the sides of my face, soaking the back of my neck and my hair. I noticed something. It felt so smooth inside my mouth, his finger gliding side to side and up and down, everything in there soaking wet and soft and squishy like I had no teeth. The thought stuck in my head. Like I had no teeth. I moved my tongue around in my mouth and whimpered. There were no teeth in my mouth! Ted saw my face and leaned down, leered at me, shusshed me and told me to enjoy what was coming. He rubbed his finger along the roof of my mouth again, a little harder this time. I felt it all the way down to my clitoris. He rubbed three or four more times and I came, arching my hips and groaning loud, my body trembling and shaking. Then, I fell asleep.

I woke up even more hungry than I’d been before. And sore, my chest was so sore. Thomas was there, standing at the side of the bed talking to Ted. They were arguing over whether or not I would make more money for them with the pheromone-infused lubricant product or just from being pimped out.

When Ted heard me moan, he nudged Thomas and they both turned. “Milking time,” Ted said. Thomas shook his head. “Not yet.” Then, “feed her first.”

I turned my head to Thomas and asked “how wong hab I beh here?” I still couldn’t move my lips, they felt even more swollen and tender than before. Thomas stroked my forehead, stopped and raised my eyelid with his thumb, examined my pupils. “It doesn’t matter, does it? Weeks? A month?”

Ted came back with a glass and a rubber straw. He pushed the rubber straw into my mouth and told me to drink. I sucked hard, the banana-flavored liquid felt wonderful in my mouth. I drank the entire glass in just a few minutes, felt the cool liquid running down my throat, into my belly. He leaned over and wiped my mouth with a napkin, I felt the rush of arousal from the cotton touching me.

“You probably want to see, don’t you?” Ted asked. No, I thought. I never want to see what Thomas has done to me.

He went to the dresser and came back with a hand mirror and showed me my face. My lips were huge and puffy, big like a fish face. The skin was stretched tight, I knew that’s why there’s so sensitive. Ted slipped his thumb underneath my upper lip and lifted it. I was right, all of my teeth were gone. I stared at Ted with wide eyes. “Why?” He just shrugged. “You’ll wear dentures when we take you out in public, but…that probably won’t be very often, really.” He stood up, laid the mirror down across my legs. “And…” he pushed his finger deep into my mouth again, started rubbing the soft palate. I felt my clit swell and my nipples stiffen. “We’ve done a little work here. Kind of a Deep Throat thing. The back of your mouth is actually sending signals to your clit.” He rubbed faster and I shifted my hips. He wasn’t kidding. I came right away, shivering and moaning under his finger.

Thomas got up and pushed Ted aside. “OK, enough of the freak show. The big lips and soft mouth crap.” He gave Ted a dirty look. The modification of my mouth evidently caused some argument between them. “I want to show you what’s going to really bring in the customers.” He unbuckled the strap that was holding my shoulders to the bed and helped me sit up. Immediately, I felt the weight pulling at my chest.

“Oh gog, oh deah gog…” I moaned through my puffy and numb lips. Ted walked to the closet and came back with a floor length mirror, held it up in front of me. I turned my head and looked at Thomas. “How ig?”

He smiled. I knew he would smile, every one of his computer designs had huge, huge titties as part of them. I didn’t believe it was possible, but now I was living it. “How ig?” I asked again.

“You are in a very special class. Your 40DDs are now 40HH. Just to give you a sense of perspective, your titties are now just over 19 inches out from your chest.” I stared at the monsters on my chest. I didn’t feel like they were part of me. But the weight was a constant reminder. I tried to pull my shoulders back but couldn’t. I wondered how much each of them weighed.

Thomas ran his finger underneath my right tittie and it felt incredible. My nipple stiffened right away. I looked at the mirror – my areola was easily six inches across, maybe more, the stiff little nipple was lost in the middle. Thomas smiled at me, staring at myself in the mirror. “Something special, aren’t they?”

Ted walked up behind me, ran his hand down my back. “And we’re not done. In fact, we’re not even sure what ‘done’ is.” I was confused. “The hormone you’re taking is experimental for humans.” He said nonchalantly, “we’re not actually sure they’ll ever stop growing. And, it’s likely to have some effects on your ability to think clearly.” The thought scared me, but there was nothing I could do about it. It *did* seem to be getting harder to think but there wasn’t much for me to think about anymore. They did everything for me.

I bit my lip and kept staring at my tits in the mirror. I turned sideways. Now, my freakishly huge ass was matched by freakishly huge titties. I wondered what I would wear if they ever let me get dresssed.

As I stared in the mirror, I realized I was hungry again. My mouth was watering but I didn’t have a taste for anything in particular. I looked around the room, there was no food. But I smelled something I wanted, wasn’t sure what it was.

Thomas took a tape measure and wrapped it around my waist. “Well, this is just about all we have left to work on. Let’s give her a few weeks before we do that.” Ted nodded his head, watching me closely. He saw the look on my face. “Hungry or sore?” he asked. “Bowf,” I said. “What do you want to eat?” I felt my mouth watering but still couldn’t think of anything special. Then, I guessed. My body was a playtoy for a group of rich and horny men. What else would they make me crave if not cum? “I want to suck suh cock,” I said.

“No, you don’t,” Ted chuckled. “You think that we turned you into a cheap porn story, don’t you? ‘They made her a cum addict and turned her loose on the streets’ kind of thing?” I nodded my head. “You think we are *that* unimaginative?” He came up to me and put his hand on my cheek. “I’m insulted.” I didn’t know what to say so I just stood there.

“I’ll tell you what. We’re going to take care of the soreness for you.” He ran his hand over my right tit, I wanted to cum. Every part of me was stretched tight and hypersensitive. He ran his palm over my nipple and it stiffened, my pussy soaked itself and my eyes closed. I felt him squeezing my nipple between his finger and thumb, gently, tugging, pinching, tugging. I watched him, fascinated at how good it felt when it had just hurt. Then, I saw a few drops of milk squirt into the air and onto his fingers. I gasped.

“Come on. Milking time for Suzi slut,” he said. “Put on your boots.” I stared at him. Milking time? Peter had done that before, but with my titties so huge and sore, it was going to hurt. I protested, offered to suck their cocks, do anything they wanted but they weren’t interested. I complained again and Peter calmly asked if I wanted to go back in the Box. I decided to put on my boots.

That was a circus act in itself. I leaned sideways to reach for my boots which were at the foot of the bed, nearly fell off of the bed as the weight of my boobies shifted. I was going to have to learn to move slower. I pulled the boots to my side, then stared at my feet. They were so far away and there were two huge flesh-colored globes between them and me. I took the boot in my hand and tried to reach my foot, tried raising my leg, tried bending my knee and bring my foot up between my legs but nothing worked. Ted and Thomas sat watching me, amused at how much trouble I was having just putting on my shoes. I knew it was going to be impossible for me to lace them up once they were on. That was the first time I cried. Everything they were doing to me, they were doing with Michael’s permission and I was not going to ever let him down, but the futility of my situation hit me. I would not even be able to dress myself now to go outside of the house.

I cried for several minutes, Ted and Thomas just watching without saying a word. Finally, I pulled myself together and tried something different. I swung my right foot up and outward, bending my knee and letting it fall to the bed before my right leg. Success! I could only use one hand – there was no way my left hand was going to reach around those titties – but managed to work my foot into the boot. I let my leg slip off the bed onto the floor, then did the same with my left foot. The victory was tiny but sweet. I – a grown woman over 40 – had managed to put on my shoes. I looked at Thomas, feeling success but knowing it was really defeat. There was no way I would be able to tie them.

Ted watched me closely and when he gauged I’d wallowed in defeat long enough, he came across the room and laced and tied my boots.

“You’re dedicated, I’ll give you that,” he said when he finished.

“To Michael,” I said proudly. Ted and Thomas both smiled. They walked me down the hallway and into another room. There were implements and devices and furniture all around the walls, I recognized most of it from sessions with Michael and his friends or with others from my former life. One thing I remembered particularly well was the small suitcase Peter had brought to one of Marco’s parties, the milking machine. We walked past it though and into an adjacent, smaller room.

“Here we go,” Peter said. He patted a cushioned table – something between and barstool and an ottoman – and said “lay across this.” I rested my belly on the cushion, shoulders and hips hanging free off of either side. Peter went to work with a dozen different straps and chains and shackles; my thighs were strapped to the legs of the stool, my ankles shackled and pulled wide, held by chains connect to rings in the floor; my wrists were shackled as well, but joined and pulled up backward behind me, chained and secured from the ceiling. More straps held my waist and lower torso to the stool. My tits, shoulders and head hung free. The strain in my knees and in my shoulders was intense, the rest of me was more or less relaxed.

Peter raised my chin and turned my head slightly. I saw a big machine with a pressure dial at the top and only a few levers and knobs. “I’m rather proud of this. I found it in a small barn in Maine, bought it, and got it back into working order myself.” He patted the machine. “It is a Scottish Thistle milking machine from the late 19th century. One of the first to address the problem of intermittent suction. The machines before this used a constant suction that resulted in – as you Suzi can probably imagine – a good deal of unnecessary pain for the animal.”

I shuddered. The one Peter used on me at that party was a new one, electrical, up to date. This one came from the nineteenth century?

“Now this one,” Peter said, pressing a button. The machine started up with a loud sound, like a broken-down washing machine, clunking and groaning. “This one is steam driven. That’s the way they built it, that’s the way I’m going to use it.” He watched the needle on the gauge measure the pressure as it built up. I wasn’t looking at that, though. I was looking at the three glass tubes laying on a piece of cloth underneath the machine. Each of them had a thick rubber gasket at one end and a hose coming out of the other. All three were made of glass. Two of them were about ten inch long and three inches round. The other one was about six inches and only an inch and a half or so around. I shuddered to imagine what the big ones were going to feel like on my already hypersensitive titties. And I wondered about the third.

Ted came and sat on the floor in front of me, lifted my right boob with his hand. The relief felt wonderful, I still didn’t realize how much work my body was doing to support them. He cupped it, rubbed it slowly. I felt my pussy slick up, my clit swelling. I started grinding my belly against the cushion. Ted grinned. “Yeah, she’s gonna be a lot of fun,” he said.

“Honey, do you know why your titties are so sore?” I told him I presumed it was because of whatever they were giving me to make them grow so huge. He laughed at me. He said, “no, no. That’s why they’re so sensitive. You want to cum right now, don’t you?” I nodded. “Yeah. The growth hormone is why they feel good.” He let his hand down slowly, I felt the weight of my titty again, hanging free underneath me. “The reason they hurt is something else you’re getting in your food. This hormone *has* been tested and approved.” I watched Thomas press one of the suction cups against his palm, probably testing the suction. He adjusted one of the knobs.

Ted went on, “Well, it hasn’t been approved for humans, but we’re pretty confident it’s safe. It’s something farmers give their livestock to increase milk production.” Thomas picked up the other one and came closer to me. “Near as Tommy and me can tell, it adds about 2 full cup sizes to your titties. With the dose you’ve been getting, we think you’ll be good for nearly a quart a day.” He pressed them upward against my titties. I felt the suction right away and he let go. They hung down, tugging at me, alternately pumping and releasing. I moaned. “Oh fuch! It feel so oood!” And it did. The suction turned me and I nearly came in just a few minutes. I watched the milk drip out of me then vanish into the black tubing. The collector on the table next to the machine was a big two gallon glass bottle. I saw milk dripping from where the hose entered. There wasn’t much.

They left me attached to the machine for fifteen minutes, the pumps were sucking me titties long after anything was dripping into the bottle. Thomas turned off the machine and Ted slid the tubes off of my nipples. They were tender and stretched. He touched one with his finger and I flinched. He nodded to Thomas. “Good.”

Ted told me he’d probably have to milk me at least three times a day, maybe four. It would depend on how my body reacted to the hormone. They fed me, another serving of the same thick, banana-flavored drink they gave me before, then told me I was free for a few hours. The removed the belts and chains and helped me into a sitting position. My nipples and titties were sore but I was OK. Ted looked at his watch then they left the room.

I sat there for a long time, just resting. After a while, I got up and walked around the milking room. My long legs and the ballet boots made me so tall I had to duck my head to get under the fluorescent light. I had to relearn how to walk with my new tits. I had to hold my arms slightly back with my shoulders bowed and I had to lean forward a bit to keep my balance. When I stopped in front of the control panel and reached for the knobs, I froze. I couldn’t bring my arms together in front of me. After some experimentation, I learned that I could turn to the side and touch the knobs with my right hand, or turn to the other side and touch them with my left, but I couldn’t reach anything directly in front of me. I started crying then, I was turning more and more into their own science project, there was less and less left of me. My feet and legs, my ass and pussy hadn’t been mine for weeks, now not only my titties, but my arms and hands were part of their bizarre creation. I wanted to go back, wanted my old body back, but underneath it all, one thing was very clear. This is what Michael wants me to become. So this is what I will become.

I wiped my eyes – I had control of enough of my body to still do that – and walked around the room again, then lowered myself into a corner and sat and stared at the wall. There was no clock and time was dragging. I have no idea how long I was sitting there. I was bored, bored, bored.

Bored, but not tired. Anxious. On edge. I also knew I was aroused. The machine had done that, sucking on my nipples for so long. Even now – more than an hour later I was sure – they were tender and sensitive. Even just the gentle motion of shifting my position on the floor aroused them. I looked around again. The only things in the room were the bench, my constraints, and the machine. I inched myself up along the wall until I was standing and walked over to the machine. I touched the light green metal. It was cool and felt nice under my fingers. I leaned against it, first my butt and my back, then I turned around and pushed my titties up against the cold metal. It felt nice.

You can probably guess what I did, reader. When they came back for my next milking, I was humping the machine madly, my huge, swollen cunt lips wrapped around one of the metal legs, a pool of my own cum on the floor underneath me, my skin still wet where it had run down my legs and over my toes. Even my new, fat lips were part of the act, I was sucking and licking the metal like a starving bitch working on a cock. It was horrible and humiliating, but I realized that I loved the feeling of my toothless gums biting hard against the metal. There was a slight metallic tingle that went through me, like accidentally biting a piece of aluminum foil. I came again, moaning hard, then screaming. I heard one of them cough behind me and froze, terrified that I might be punished for what I was doing. The men just smiled at me. Thomas bent over and then crouched down, dipped his finger in my ejaculated mess. He sniffed it. “Ah,” was all he said.

They connected a new bottle to the machine and milked me again, this time for twenty minutes. I watched Thomas hold the two bottles up, comparing the volume from first milking to the second. Ted disconnected me and told me to back to my room. He started talking to Thomas but I didn’t hear what they said.

Back in my room, I felt tired and thought I would take a nap. I got into bed and laid down. My hugs tits made it hard for me to lay on my back, they fell to the sides and I couldn’t relax. So, I turned on my left side but still couldn’t get comfortable. I lay there for a little while, feeling more and more nervous. I knew what it was. I was a belly sleeper. Or, I *had been* a belly sleeper. Those days were gone. I thought about stacking pillows underneath my ribs to support me. I looked around. There were four pillows on the bed. I sat up and tried assembling them a few different ways, but nothing worked. I would be sleeping on my side from now on.

I tried that too, but I couldn’t fall asleep. I never was a side sleeper and now, I couldn’t even get my arms comfortable. I tried resting them along my side, then behind be, even above my head. Nothing worked. They had even taken my sleep away from me. Was that part of Peter’s kink? Or maybe Ted’s. I wondered if Marco would show me off at his parties now. I shook my head. Of course her would. All of them were tit freaks. And now I was the biggest tit freak of all.

I closed my eyes, still feeling the machine sucking on my nipples. Left, right, left, right. I smelled something sweet in the air, it turned me on. I opened my eyes and looked around the room but couldn’t tell where it was coming from. I closed my eyes again and ran a finger across my lower lip. It trembled in response to the light touch. My pussy felt it too and my hand instinctively slid between my legs and I was playing with myself again. It didn’t take long for me to cum – every part of my body was hyper-sensitive now. Peter’s cartoon was alive and real and horny and it couldn’t control itself.

Peter took me to a party that night. He dressed me in a huge, oversized flower print mu-mu, the only thing he had that would fit over my new titties. As we drove across town in his small car, I realized that something had changed in how I thought about Peter. When this all started and I realized that Peter has no boundaries, I was scared. Afraid of what he might do to me. But now, I realized that I was turned on look at him. Now, I saw him as confident, cruel and completely merciless. I found I was hoping Peter would take me somewhere so he could really work me over. What I knew now was that he was smart enough not to damage his investment. Whatever he was turning me into, he wouldn’t want to break it. At least I was pretty sure of that.

I was a little disappointed when he brought me back to Marco’s place. Marco would stuff me in his little hole in the floor and let people cum on me. He’d been severe with me that first night, but since then, I hadn’t been anything but a hole to him. Peter led me in. There was nobody there. That surprised me a little. Marco usually liked to have me entertain at parties. Peter walked me into the room I’d been whipped in the first time. Marco was there. He was naked except for a pair of knee-high leather boots and a red bandana. He reminded me of a pirate and I couldn’t suppress a giggle. I stared at his chest and arms. I had forgotten how ripped he was, a poster boy for steroids and free weights. His black hair was slicked back on his head, the bandana high on his forehead.

Peter and Marco didn’t say a word to me or to each other. While Peter closed the leather cuffs around my wrists and ankles, Marco just stood there, trailing the end of a long, single tailed leather whip back and forth on the floor in front of his boots. Peter started cranking the pulleys that I’d been in before, spreading my legs wide and pulling my arms up and outward. It was different this time though. Whatever they’d done to my legs and hips made it harder to spread them this way. And my huge titties hung heavy on my chest, making it hard for me to let my arms open wide. Peter didn’t care. He kept turning the handle. I heard the ‘click, click, click’ of the gears locking and then heard myself whimpering and then heard myself begging them to stop then heard Marco snap the whip in the air once, twice, three times before he brought it down across my chest.

The water woke me up. Marco was standing in front of me with an empty cup in his hand. Just like last time. No. Not like last time. I was so much more turned on that I’d been last time. He concentrated his whipping on my tits this time, the pain was excruciating but there was something else. My cunt was on fire, my clit huge and throbbing, I needed to cum. Why? I looked at Marco, his sweat-soaked body breathing hard, an evil smile on his face. I took a deep breath, the sweet smell of sweat making me dizzy with lust. Marco walked toward me and raised his arm, put his forearm in front of my huge, swollen lips. I opened my mouth, stuck my tongue out, licked his arm with long, wet strokes of my tongue. It tasted wonderful. He let me lick his other arm, then came closer. I ran my tongue over his sweaty biceps, pressed my lips hard, sucked his skin. I ran my tongue along the underside of his arm, pushed my face into his armpit, sucked the sweat off of the hair, slurping, listening to the saliva running down my chin and down his side. He turned and offered me the other pit. I dove in, sucking and licking, the sounds of my hunger filling the room.

He stepped back and I saw his cock was stiff and erect. He motioned to Peter who lowered my arms a few inches, just enough that Marco could shove his cock between my huge cunt lips. He pressed against me, moaned how soft I felt down there. Like fucking a pillow, like fucking a cloud. He fucked me a long, long time, buried so deep inside me I thought I would pass out. When he came, I did too, my body shaking and twisting against my bonds. Marco sat on the floor, his legs splayed, the whip on the floor beside him. Peter cranked the handle and lowered me to the ground. I crawled the few feet that separated us, buried my face in Marco’s crotch, licking and sucking every drop of sweat I could get to along the insides of his thighs, the crack of his crotch, his belly, his chest. I was going insane, it was a feast, the salty taste and the thick feel of the gunge in the fold of his crotch drove me crazy. Peter let me lick Marco’s tasty crotch for a long, long time before he took me back home.

Ted was waiting for me when we got back. Peter didn’t even let me get out of the car he just parked and got out and handed the keys to Ted. I held my arms underneath my tits, they were raw and tender from the whipping Marco had given them. They’d dressed me in a tight leather outfit. The pants were custom made for my huge ass and looked like they were painted on. The top was the same, long sleeves and a high collar and skintight. Every inch of me except my head and hands was encased in a second skin of tight, black leather. Ted didn’t talk to me while he drove, just like Peter. He took me in the same direction as Peter, but not to Marco’s. He drove into the packed parking lot of a bar just outside of town. There were rows of trucks and old beatup cars, a dozen motorcycles parked outside the front door. I could guess what he was doing, looked at him with pleading eyes. He just smiled.

We walked in together and everyone turned and stared. The blaring country music kept playing but everyone stopped talking. I saw them start to smile, a couple of them said “hi” to Ted. The bartender told everyone to just stay calm and added, “let’s not have any trouble like last time.” I felt my stomach drop. What did that mean?

Ted led me to the bar and ordered a beer and a glass of warm water for me. The song on the jukebox ended. The place was still dead quiet. It made me nervous and anxious, wondering what was going to happen. Everyone was still staring at me, sipping their whiskey or drinking their beer but not talking. Nobody seemed surprised or shocked. How often had they done this before?

A couple of women in short leather skirts walked up to me and just stared at my boots for a minute. “Damn, honey. That’s hardcore,” one of them said. The other circled around me, staring at my tits and ass. “Teddy, where the hell did you find this one?” She stopped in front of me and looked at my lips. I knew what she was looking at. Each of my lips was at least two inches thick, the skin pulled tight. She touched my lip, giggled and said loudly, “trout pout.” I’d never heard the word before but everyone around us started laughing. A man who was standing by the bar said, “naw. That’s more a of pussy mouth than a trout pout.” They started in on me then, a couple of men came closer, staring at my mouth. “Let’s see, honey. Open em up. Trout pout or pussy mouth?” I parted my lips just slightly, I didn’t want anyone seeing my missing teeth.

“Aw, we aren’t gonna be able to tell until we put something in there. Who’s first?” the man laughed. Everyone in the room laughed then, but the bartender yelled. “Fuck no, aw fuck no. We’re not doing *that* again.” He waved a baseball bat in the air and everyone quieted down.

“Fuck that,” the shorter woman in front of me yelled. “Put something on the juke box and let’s see the bitch dance.” She looked at me. “I want to see you dance with those boots on. And those fucking monster titties of yours.”

A raucous country rock some on, something about “liking this bar” and I started to sway my hips. The woman reached out quickly and tweaked my nipple through the leather. “Come on, bitch! Dance!”

I started moving then, waving my arms and shaking my ass, throwing my hair back and forth, arching my back so my huge titties shook inside their leather casing. It made me hot, dancing like that, I felt myself turned on and wanting to fuck. I wondered if Ted was going to make them fuck me…no, *let* them fuck me. I saw three or four of them I really wanted, rough looking guys who would ride me hard and make me cum.

When the music stopped, Ted finished his beer and walked me into the men’s room. I glory-holed the place for four hours before he took me home.

My titties were aching by the time we got back. So was my stomach. I don’t know how much cum I swallowed in four hours, but it had to be a lot. My belly felt stretched and bloated, swollen like my titties. Ted walked me into the milking room and I tore my clothes off right away, hurried to the bench and reached for the nipple cups. Ted laughed and took them out of my hands. “A little uncomfortable?” I said yes. “Be patient, the machine isn’t even on yet. Besides, it’s good for you and it’s going to happen a lot. Get used to it.” He leaned against the control desk. “Get up and pick up those clothes. Were you born in a barn?” he mocked me.

I got up off of the bench and bent over, picked up the leather top and pants, folded them, asked him where I should put them. “Just drop them on the floor,” he said with an evil chuckle. I begged him to start milking me, I felt like I was going to explode. He told me to lay back down so I did. He flipped the switch that turned on the machine and I listened with a sense of relief as the motor started clunking to life. He connected all of my restraints – tho he didn’t need to. I was craving the machine.

This time, though, he unscrewed some swivel connections and used them to secure my head in place, neck straight with my spine, eyes looking at the floor. He rolled a small device beside me and slid something horizontally between my lips. It was a cool piece of something hard covered with a rubber skin. He flipped a switch and it began moving up and down slowly, massaging my lips. I was turned on and felt my cunt start to ooze. I moaned and he patted my head.

Next, I felt his hands between my legs, stroking my huge, puffy cunt lips. He opened them and I nearly came. I felt something hard pressed against my right cunt lip, then sliding nearer my clit. I jerked and said “oooh!” as it attached itself to my clit. It was the third glass tube I saw the other day! He was milking my clit! It sucked on me only a few times before I came. And it kept sucking. I was going to go insane if it continued. He connected the cups to my nipples and I knew I wasn’t going to be last. The suction was incredible, like a thousand of the best lovers I’d ever head all rolled into one. I tried to squirm, to shake the suction cup off of my clit but it wasn’t going anywhere. I came again quickly, a small squirt of liquid shooting out of me. My brain was flooded with sensation. I felt drool running over my lips, over the small, stiff bar in my mouth. I was lost in the feelings when he started talking to me. I think I remember what he said. They were milking me all over now. The reason Ted needed me all along was that he was selling what he called a “secret special” perfume over the internet. It was refined from a combination of tit milk, pussy lubrication, and female ejaculate and saliva. Peter called him after me met me. He knew I would do anything Michael told me to do, he knew I enjoyed pain and he knew I would enjoy being turned into the sex machine he’d been designing. He was right. I abandoned myself to the machines more and more as Ted talked. Peter was one hundred percent right. I was enjoying every minute of my transformation. I wanted to beg him to push further with the modifications, to push Marco further with how he abused me when I came to his place, to push Thomas to throw away his designs and use me the way I was now as his starting point. I came and came as the machine sucked on my body, squirting again and again into the collector Ted put between my legs. I could see the bowl underneath my head filling with the precious liquid that was dripping down around the shaft, I wanted to find more ways they could abuse me, make more suggestions, give them more. I shook my head in frustration that there was nothing left for me to offer, no other parts of my body I could have him make useful. Maybe he could think of something.

… to be continued if people are interested …