Table for two

The sun was setting on the barn we call our home, and Yanda had been bullying Bianca and the newgirl all day long. If she'd had put half the effort into actually getting some things done herself rather then harassing the girls she might have finished hours ago. Now the hot tempered amazonian walked around nervously, like a teenager waiting for her prom-date.

On the other hand it did show how far her new 'catch' had gotten since she was brought in - screaming and kicking - only two months ago. Yanda might be unable to reproduce, but her seedless semen turned out to be quite an addictive aphrodisiac. After just ten days the butch that had fought her so valiantly seemed to have accepted her new life and took orders like a good little slave. She had settled for just being the boss over Yanda's slutpole slaves, the twins, which Yanda in particular seemed to enjoy.

When I returned from the small, improvised laboratory set up inside the glass house just out in the fields stretched out before the barn I found both Bianca and the newgirl curled up together. They had gotten a few extra bruises but nothing too bad, and seemed to be asleep for now. Inside Lacrimae was still laying on her bed, the 6 year old no where in sight, but probably somewhere in the attic where Lac had a doll house set up for her. Lac gave me a telling look, shaking her head as the sound of shouting that arose from the kitchen, a wooden shed attached to the barn.

At the source of the sweet and spicy smells slowly filling up stable area I found Yanda barking at the two redheads - the perfect curves of the two 21 year old girls where accentuated by the aprons they where wearing. Calm as their mother they both seemed to mostly ignore the tanned, muscular woman while they did their cooking. Lindsay and Jamy gave warm smiles as I entered the kitchen - a wooden fire-disaster waiting to happen: the stove looking medieval with several smokey pots trembling a little under the heat of the open fires below.

"Hello Miss Gemini." Jamy nodded as she reached for some spices, the girl barely tall enough to reach that far up. Yanda just grunted and walked out of the kitchen without another word, obviously having trouble keeping herself from barking at me as well.

"Hello girls, how are yo holding up?" The girls giggled at each-other then nodded over their shoulder. "Just fine Miss Gemini, thank you for asking!" they replied almost simultaneously. I frowned at the giggle and tilted my head. It wasn't unlike the bubbly redheads to giggle at any word that could indirectly hint at anything sexual, but this time it seemed more coordinated. The girls noticed the stare and quickly look down at the pots and pans again, the cheeks bloating with stifled laughter.

Though obviously up to no good, the mischievous girls were innocent enough to not investigate any further into their behavior. If anything they where Lacs girls, and her responsibility. I shook my coat of my shoulders and grabbed a chair, throwing my feet up on the kitchen table in one seamless motion, grabbing my notes, and started trying to work out what I had written down today. Without Bianca taking notes it took me usually took me at least an hour to decipher my own writing. The two 'cooks' looked at each-other then back at me - the hint of mischief now more than obvious as they nodded to each-other and continued their cooking, seemingly agreeing to a question that needed no words.

Nearly half an hour had passed and the two girls where slaving away at the dinner. It looked great but somehow I wasn't very pleased with the fact this would all be done for that cunt of a 'Stephani'. As if she wasn't feeling full enough of herself already, making her a five star dinner could give her the idea we actually agreed she's special.

Lac's self taught girls actually turned out to be quite the decent cooks. They 'helped' their mother most of the time and did any of the chores that required some intelligence and could not be taken care of by the sluts. Lindsay was in a relationship with Cristian and looked like a 10 year younger version of her mother - dark red hairs, milky white skin, cupsize double D and fat, puffy lips. Her sister was of equal height, but differently build. More slender, sophisticated looking. Where her sister looked like the well-fed farmgirl, Jamy would not have been out of place at some accountancy working a desk-job, or being a lawyer or even the sharp and sexy assistant of some big-shot CEO. She looked educated even though she wasn't really. Lac had taught her to the best of her ability and she was a pretty smart - but her actual knowledge was mostly focussed on supernatural mumbo jumbo - nothing that would have been taught at any university.

Suddenly Yanda bursted into the kitchen. "She's here!" she shouted at no one in particular. The girls nodded silently and lined up the plates. "Set the table for two girls, I'll have my dinner here." I said with a smile. Yanda gave me a thankful look before dashing off. She actually thought I was doing her a favor but I wouldn't sit next to the prissy little bitch if someone put a gun to my head. The girls gathered a pair of empty plates after brushing off their aprons, pulled the cloth on the kitchen table out from underneath my feet and followed Yanda with a hasty step.

Yanda had put out a small round table in front of the barn, far away from her slutpost and our living area - it looked like she was embarrassed to be part of us now with 'Stephani' here. By the sound of things they were hardly talking, and when they did it seemed like they where forcing a laugh at each-other. This was so unlike Yanda it made me wonder what her dinner-date had on her.

Lindsay and Jamy served as Yandas waitresses, bringing out their carefully made plates to the dining couple and returning with empty ones. I'm pretty sure Yanda finished what precious Stephani couldn't fit into her flat little stomach - even though the dishes where delicate and easily digestible.

When the girls returned for the fifth time into the kitchen, they had that mischievous smile again. It had replaced a sometimes frustrated, or sometimes even infuriated look when they had to deal with one of Stephani's quirks again. Just the wine was too cold, too warm, wrong year, didn't compliment the food and had a bitter aftertaste according to our guest. Granted the girls didn't know their wine, but it was obvious she made no effort to show any appreciation for the work the girls had put into their dinner.

"Time for desert!" the well-filled redhead chirps as she looks at her sister. I frown for the second time at their mischievous behavior, but this time I don't have to guess what they are up to. With the silent nod they gave each-other earlier they apparently concluded I posed no threat to their little plan and felt they could speak freely. The girls both lift their aprons and reach down, each exposing their fat, 16' cocks to each-other, both fuckrods decorated with a thin half-transparent layer of latex.

The girls blush as they look over to me - the tips of the their condoms already filled with whatever pre they had been leaking all day. I just smirk in reply - wondering if Lac put them up to this or if this had been their own idea of 'getting even'. The smirk seemed all the confirmation they needed as they turned their attention back to each-other, their tender hands exploring each-others large fat cocks (they did look remarkably the same down there) like they hadn't felt each-other a thousand times before.

Lindsay and Jane had turned the mutual jerking into an art, pressing the throbbing rods on one another as their hands slide over the rugged skin, slowly pumping as they giggled at each-other. "Who-ever cums first loses!" Lindsay teases her sister, turning her hand into a blur as she strokes Jamy off harder - who soon follows suit and jerks her siblings dick with equal vigor.

The jerking contest soon turns into a staring contests, both redheads looking at each-other with needy eyes, both equally willing to just 'lose' their little competition if they can just splurt their seedy load into the tight balloons strapped around their big girlcocks, the sloshing sounds getting so loud I start to wonder if Stephani and Yanda don't get suspicious - but their feint chattering seems to go on uninterrupted. Lindsay bites her lip and squeezes her sister hard at the base of her shaft, while Jamy feels the hairs hanging in front of her eyes get sweaty, sticking to her forehead. Both girls have their mouths open by now, their pink lips spread far and their tongues peeking out.

"C-come on sis! Y-you can do b-better!" Lindsay stammers, but her bluff is soon called as she grunts, closing her eyes while her sister smirks widely, feeling that thick shaft caught between her fingers get even wider, its large girth swelling before the plump redhead starts filling the latex coating on her cock. For a moment it seems like the latex isn't going to hold, going from half transparent to nearly completely invisible as it gets stretched thinner and thinner over the swelling, cumfilled bulge. Fortunately for the girls, just before it looks like it's really about to give in the swelling stops - Jamy giggles cruelly at her sisters situation.

"I... I think we need bigger ones next time sis..." Lindsay pants softly, biting her lip, feeling like any sudden move could ruin their little plan and break the bloated condom.

Jamy nods with a smile. She's somewhat disappointed she 'won' their little game but puts 'the plan' above her own throbbing need, placing the two beautiful slices of dark brown cake on the table in front of her sister. Lindsay hands her sister the scissors and bites her lip. "Careful you don't cut into anything pink down there..." she warns her partner in crime. Jamy looks up with a smile then turns her attention to the little tip of the condom, squeezing it between thumb and index before cutting a small hole into the rubber tip.

Lindsay positions herself straight in front of the pastries in front of her while she holds the condom closed tightly nearly halfway down her dick. Her sister steps behind her sibling, wrapping her fingers around Lindays cock with great care before she releases the tension of her thumb and index just a little. A thick ropey slirt of cum shoots from the condom, draping over the brown and white cake. "Careful now sis!" Lindsay hisses at Jamy. Jamy nods and keeps a strong focus on the cake in front of the pair, slowly starting to get a feel for her little cum-decorating device, starting to draw nice looking curly things onto the slices.

"Almost done...." Jamy whispers focussed, finishing the 's' of 'Forever yours' on the dark cake. Lindsay nods, almost turning the 's' into a '$' but Jamy corrects quickly with a quick squeeze, stopping the flow of semen and jerking her sisters cock away. Lindsay turns away from the table and lets her grip slip, the condom sliding of her cock and the rest of her load drops to the floor with a wet splash. Jame nudges Lindsay hard between the ribs. "Such a waste!" she hisses quietly as she pushes her own, still throbbing, erection back into her pants, covering the large bulge with the apron as best as possible. Lindsay doesn't seem too concerned with her spilled load and tucks her slimy but soft cock away, showing no evidence of the monster hidden behind her apron. She quickly picks up one of the plates, and waits for her sister to finish fussing with her clothes and pick up the other one, both slices dripping with what looks to be regular icing if you didn't know any better...

Both girls give me a wink as they push the kitchen door open and disappear into the barn. I grab one of the remaining, clean slices and lean back with a satisfied smile. It won't shut her up, but at least I can now just smile whenever 'Stephani' makes one of her snarky remarks about us instead of feeling the need to lobotomize the little bitch. "They're good girls Lac..." I sigh softly before turning back to the notebook in front of me.

The Code

Just a few feet away Yanda wakes up wuth a grunt. She wipes the drool of her cheek and pulls the blonde from her crotch with a strong grip. Her fat cock falling to her thigh with a wet slap, the girl formerly attached to the other end of her dick blinks sleepily then crawls away as far as her chains will allow her. The muscled amazonian woman pushes herself of the soaked bed and walks over to the other girl attached to the same pole as the first. "Open up" she snarls - the other blonde, - a spitting image of the first - crawls out of hiding.

The well trained slut opens her mouth as Yanda spreads her legs and grabs her cock, hanging the tip inside the crying girls mouth, slowly starting to urinate. After a while she smiles down, the warm yellow fluids seeping down the girls cheeks, who receive a tender slap from the drained cock as soon as Yanda seems done. "Now flush girl" she adds insult to injury before zipping up and turning away from the girls, stepping towards Bianca.

I watch her warily for a moment - Yanda is not known for her subtelty and she could very well break something in my experiment if she gets in one of her moods.

"Aren't you looking peachy today." *she says in her usual threateningly tone as she presses her feet into the girls side, roughly waking her from her semi-slumber. Bianca blinks in reply - still unsure where or who the prod originated from. As soon as she spots the amazonian figure towering over her she smiles - her mind unable to see the threatingly sarcasm for what it is she nods in reply.

Yanda shakes her head. She dislikes Bianca with a passion. She makes her feel powerless because Bianca isn't scared of her. Not by choice, but fear is no longer a working function inside the mind of bruised but still pretty girl. She presses her foot harder into the girls belly. "Get up little whore -we have a visitor coming over and..." she stops, noticing my stare. She smiles - and prods a little harder, just as the the girl on the floor tries to get up, pushing her back down. "... and just because you are dear Miss Gemini's darling doesn't mean you are any less worthless than the others. Now get on your feet you brainless little slut."

Just what Yanda meant with that smile only she knows - but she was either seeking approval or was trying to taunt me. Yanda might be strong and intimating - she's also not the brightest of us all. She likes to shake things up a little - provoke, challenge, usually up to the point where one of us tells her off and she takes it out on her pets. She hasn't gone too far according to our little 'code' just yet, but she's gotten close and seems to be getting closer every day.

'The code' is just an arrangement amongst the five of us. Those part of 'The crafters' do not abuse or experiment on each-other unwillingly. The second rule was once property is assigned there will be no mutilation, death or change of ownership unless approved by the owner (birthing automatically grants ownership to the mother). It made things simple. There where countless of other unspoken little rules but these two should always hold. Breaking them would result in... well - it never gotten to that, but with Yanda acting the way she does it might not be as unfathomable it was the day the code was made.

"Who's coming over?" asks the heavy looking redhead, breast-feeding her 6-year old. Lac leans up and pushes the little girl back into the pillows on her overly large bed, her swollen belly making her dress look uncomfortable. She's pregnant with her... I've lost count how may-est' and spends most days in bed nowadays, having her oldest daughters take care of her, the two pretty redheads rarely leaving the side of their mother.

"Not that it's any of your business -" Yanda replies as she turns "- but I'm bringing Stephani over for the night."

No wonder she's being even more unlikable than usual. Stephani was some high profile cunt - and Yanda is always desperately trying to impress her. I'm not sure why she doesn't just gag the bitch and keeps her hogtied like she does with most her 'dates'- but for some reason the large woman turns into a puppy whenever her latin lover is around.

Lac rolls her eyes which earns her a stern look from Yanda, but the tall, blackhaired domme seems not interested in making anything of it. "Where are those little sluts of yours anyways - Gemeni's little whore can't do everything by herself."

"Out dear, groceries - I think your date wants to feed of something other than your seedless spunk don't you." The pregnant redhead replied in her usual sweet, motherly voice, rolling sideways and pressing her glasses back on her nose, turning her attention back to the large tome next to her. Yanda growled and turned away once more - she didn't need to be reminded of that, in fact, the swollen redhead and her off-spring often made her remember how lucky she was she couldn't reproduce.

Suddenly Arriana's and Cristians absence made sense - they had probably picked up on this before today and left - either to avoid getting annoyed or having to fight he urges to strangle the up-tight arrogant little prissy bitch that Yanda saw as her 'bride to be'. 'Stephani' had made it quite clear she was not 'like us' -she 'tolerated' us just for Yanda - like she was any better. Where Yanda had picked up the self-proclaimed Miss Universe none of us knew, but when she visited last time Adrianna could just barely hold back from lashing out at her and ripping her open in front of us. The wench showed no respect, as if she could not be one of the drooling sluts tied to Yanda's slutpole if we so desired. But Stephani was Yanda's- and the code applied, even to 'property' that didn't consider itself to be just that...

They call us Fleshcrafters

Before we continue our journey, I need to introduce my fellow Fleshcrafters. Our team consists of five primary members who each conduct research into human weaknesses - to exploit, repair or evolve:

Arianna DeCuir

First of the five, and the initiator of the Fleshcrafters is Arianna. Her aura of authority greets you long before the rubbery smell of her latex coated body does. The woman clearly has a lot of experience, but doesn't look a day over thirty, which leaves me guessing about her real age. A secret she seems to have sworn to protect.

Her primary field of research is aging and the decay of the human body.

Yanda Russel

The second member of our research team is Yanda. A voluptious and muscled dickgirl who seems to have a hard time controlling her emotions - especially the negative ones. When she's not torturing or training she seems to take a keen interest in the 'hunt' - finding newgirls and bring them here.

Her key interests are physical strenght and weaknesses - muscles, nerves, pain - the things that either restrict or increase our physical dominance.

Lacrimae Eldrich

Last of the original three is the beautiful Lacrimae. Most noticeably about the short redhead are her large, swollen balls always dangling from underneath her summer dress. So far she's the only one given birth that we know of, having birthed three daughters and a fourth on it's way, and another number of offspring inside newgirls and subjects here.

Needless to say, her field of interest is fertility, the process of reproduction and the fragile creation of human life.

Viola Gemini

The fourth to join our little troupe was me- The only 'observation' about my role within the Fleshcrafters I'll share at this point is my field of research: The Mind and direct manipulation. Don't confuse me with a common brain surgeon, as I don't deal with tissue, I deal with thoughts, memory, experience and behavior, anything intangible that will directly influence our behavior - not repairing some neurodeficiency like a common plumber.

Christian Yifu

The most recent addition to our guild is the peculiar Christian. Christian is an enigma, for about half of the time he is Christine, his alter-ego, or maybe his original self, it's hard to say. He dresses overly slutty for a girl, or overly gay for a boy, often wearing nothing but hotpants and a tanktop. He spends most of his time mimicking the girls as they get operated on, comforting them, observing them, and sometimes, becoming them.

Christian is mostly dealing with identity and how this affects others through persuasion, seduction, all the ways to indirectly influence others.

Yanda's Catch

As Yanda dragged a struggling and gagged girl into the barn everyone turned to look at the newgirl. Yanda looked happy with her catch. The healthy, rope-bound 20'er had obviously put up a fight, the tear and scratch marks on Yanda's blouse were the evidence she had not come quietly. But that's how she likes them. She seeks out the though ones and challenges them - while most of us prefer tranquilizers, Yanda likes to keep her amazonian body in shape with her sadistic sport.

The gagged girl was crying, but her well-build physique and short hair gave the impression she was indeed one of Yanda's typical catches. The butch of the group, the girl wearing the pants in her scarce relationships. She'd probably have grown up to be a beautiful biker-bitch - but for now she's stuck with us.

Yanda sat down in one of the chairs close to the girl and rubbed her crotch, revealing her impressive bulge, drawing the outlines of her firm girlcock on her tight jeans. "The bitch bit me" she snarled - almost as if she was genuinely displeased. The gagged girl looked up and struggled for a moment. Unfortunately for our latest subject, Yanda knows her stuff - and the ropes on her back seemed to do their work just fine, keeping the girl on her belly in front of Yanda as she composed herself.

She got up and gripped the girls tank-top from behind, pulling her up roughly and pressing her against one of the poles. The newgirl snorted and grunted as she was pushed against her new home - the iron shackles attached to the thick wood clicked around her heels. Yanda rose again with a smirk. "I'll need my ballgag back now - but I'd be happy to lend it to you again if you can't behave..."

The newgirl looked into Yanda's deep brown eyes - a cold stare filled with hatred and defiance. Yanda just smiled and removed the gag slowly - expecting the predictable outcome as the girl spat her in the face and started shouting. None present seemed to react much, so the girl switched gears and looked pleadingly around her, hoping one of us would suddenly be struck by remorse and set her free. Phase three in this routine is acceptance, the pleading look turns to fear, and they start crying again, screaming 'Why?!'.

Those of us that have been here over a year know this routine by heart. I can understand the anger, the hope, the fear, but the why bothers me to no small degree. We do the things where regular science hesitates to do what is required for progress, circling the solution but scared to touch. The stuff they dream of because the rewards will be well worth it if they could only make the moral leap. We are not simply mutating these girls, we are carving out the imperfections in these bodies, arranging the atoms differently, observing their results, and correcting nature's mistakes. Our tools maybe crude to the untrained eye, but our results are... remarkable. At least they will be... should become... soon enough.

A Pet Project

It's quiet in the old damp barn we use as home annex laboratory. Most of the girls are chained down, recovering from their day on the operation tables, punishment poles or pleasing my fellow doctors, most likely a combination of all three.

My own testing subject and pet, the girl formerly known as Bianca, has the usual blank expression on her face. The scantly clothed girl just lays there, her black spiky hairs looking dirty and moist but there is a certain happiness about her. Her large, dark eyes give her an innocent look, even though all life seems stripped from them. She occasionally turns in her warm spot in the hay. Apart from the scarring on the back of her partially bald head she still looks like the girl she was when she first came here. Funny how looks can be deceiving...

Bianca used to be such a normal girl. She grew up without complaints in a protected environment. The safe suburbs gave reasonably good childhood and she was ready to enter 'the real world' having finished university amongst the top of her class. What happened next however, no school or parenting could have prepared her for...

The day after her graduation she's walking her dog down one of the sunbathed lanes in her area. Out of nowhere a van with tinted windows pulls up next to her and pulls her inside, removing her from everything she ever knew as safe. She was taken hostage, and a ransom note was send to her parent's address. As far as she knows, the negotiations 'failed'. She'd have been killed if not for some fat gangster who was unable to keep her hands of her - using her, abusing her and passing her around every day for the next five years.

Once the pig got tired of her she was sold and shipped - to us. The traffickers we deal with are the scum of the earth, but at least they train their girls properly. It'd be a lie if I said they are better off here but at least they don't seem to care as much as newgirls, having already accepted their fate a while ago.

I know all this because Bianca told me. She might have been brought here by force, but she stayed by choice. She was actually relieved when I told her the experiments and operations we'd be conducting on her. Altering her memory, erasing part of her and replacing it with new identities, program her brain. She said it'd feel like a vacation, not having those memories. I'm worried about how her co-operation will effect the results, but so far she's mast the most progress of all four mindslaves. Her routines are becoming consistent and her awareness of self starts to fade every day, and yet with every day she seems happier...

A Perfect World

The price of a perfect world is perfection is expected. No longer something to be admired. Anything else is sub-par. This journey starts on a world that craves perfection like a junky craves it's drug.

This world is the natural habitat of our rare breed. Some calls us demons, some call us insane, most call us 'The Fleshcrafters'. We merely provide a service, researching the boundaries of physicality, documenting it. Admittedly I've seen the look of perversion in the eyes of my fellow doctors who seem to take a keen interest in deforming our test subjects beyond recognition. This however, is but a small part of our research - as my primary focus is braincrafting.

The editing of the various brain lobes is a fascinating process. One that does not allow trial and error - but the results offer such satisfaction I could never derive from mere physical modifications.

For now I am happy testing my dear pet - so far I've managed to limit the damage and actually booked some results in my goals to program her with simple tasks she would perform like clockwork. I'll have to see how she develops, this could be the break I've been looking for.