Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
“There!” Lupin announced proudly. “Phase one complete. You’re a natural, my dear.”
Noelle wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scream.
“A natural what?” she croaked.
“Never mind—just get up. We’re done for now.”
Oh, thank the Blessed Virgin…
Her legs felt boneless as she slid off the chair, covering her breasts instinctively. Her body no longer felt like her own.
What are they turning me into? Am I even still… me?
“This is only the beginning, of course,” Lupin said as he pulled off the metal collar and put it away. “Tomorrow we’ll do your ovulation-trigger injection and your second fertility treatment. Then you’ll be ready for implantation.”
Noelle froze.
“Implantation?” she whispered.
“Don’t look so shocked. Buyers like their slaves fertile. It increases their value. So it’s important to get you all ready for breeding in case they want to impregnate you.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Now come—let’s have a look at you in the viewer so we can see the “after” part of your makeover.”
Noelle followed him numbly, her thighs trembling, her nipples burning, and her womb still pulsing from the alien throb.
Burn… Bright… please… somebody help me…
But there was no one there but Lupin and the weird octopus monster in the pool of black goo.
Noelle was on her own.
18
NOELLE
Noelle’s legs were still trembling when Lupin guided her toward the raised platform surrounded by softly glowing panels. She walked gingerly, the inside of her right thigh chafed from the friction of the silver collar and the lingering ache from the suction cups still pulsing through her nipples.
My body doesn’t feel like mine anymore, she thought for the second time. I don’t feel like myself at all!
Her skin was flushed and hypersensitive—even the slightest breeze raised goosebumps. Her hair clung damply to her back, still tangled from the whirlwind dryer.
“Here we are,” Lupin said briskly, gesturing for her to sit on a round stool in front of a tall, humming machine with dozens of spindly mechanical arms. “Let’s fix that mess on your head, shall we? Even if the rest of you is gorgeous now, we can’t have you looking like a drowned chuba rat.”
Before she could protest, a warm puff of air lifted her hair, and several of the mechanical arms descended like spider legs. Tiny claws combed, separated, and twisted her strands while another nozzle emitted a soft floral mist.
Noelle sat stiffly, her thighs pressed together, hugging her arms over her breasts. Her entire body felt like it had been turned inside out—invaded, probed, and modified. Her nipples ached from the suction cups and her thigh still throbbed from the pulsing collar. Worst of all, her womb felt strange. Like something inside that had been almost asleep due to her age had been stirred awake.
I feel like I’ve been rewritten, she thought. Like I’m someone else wearing my skin…
“All right, my dear!” Lupin said at last, clapping his tiny hands as the metal arms withdrew from her hair. “Now stand up, and come see for yourself.”
He tugged her impatiently toward the tall, three-sided holo-viewer again. The glass shimmered with violet static before clearing to show her full reflection from three angles—front, profile, and rear.
Noelle blinked…then blinked again.
The woman in the glass was her…but not her. Not at all.
The thin silver streaks that had run through her dark hair—her badges of age and stress—were completely gone. In their place was a waterfall of thick, glossy black hair that shimmered under the spa lights. Her skin had a new glow—smooth and dewy, like she’d just come in from a sun-dappled spring morning. The faint sagging under her chin had vanished and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth had been erased, like they’d never existed. Even her lips looked plumper, as though she’d had lip filler put in. Only there was nothing artificial about her new appearance—it was all her, just younger.
She touched her face, unable to look away from the reflection.
“Dios…” she whispered. “I look so young.”
But it was more than just looking younger—she looked like herself in her twenties. Before the heartbreak of meeting and marrying the abusive Branson…before the gray hairs…before the bone-deep exhaustion of disappointment had settled into her bones. Her breasts—round and lifted—no longer drooped. Her stretch marks were gone. Her hips were full but smooth, her waist softly sculpted.
“It’s not just your face,” Lupin said proudly. “The cellular restructuring I put you through worked marvelously. You’re positively radiant, and so very ripe. Honestly, I’ve never seen such impressive results in a single session. You may be my greatest work of art, my dear.”
Noelle couldn’t stop staring and the images the viewer was showing her.
Is that really me? Really? And what else had changed, under the surface?
Her nipples still tingled in the cool air. Her womb pulsed with unnatural heat, like embers banked beneath the surface of her skin. Her whole body was humming—trembling faintly with a kind of tension she didn’t understand. It wasn’t arousal exactly—it felt like more than that, somehow. Her body was telling her that she was fertile again, whether she wanted to be or not.