The New Girl
By DX

Court ordered Bimbofication!  Crazed surgery!  Can Danielle’s defiant spirit save her?

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Copyrighted 02/02/03, 6/5/2023 All rights reserved.



When I acquired Danielle from the Prison she was a fiery, defiant spirit; but that didn't concern me as I simply drove her right over to Dr. Marcus' Clinique. 
We arrived just in time as the faint clunks from her thrashing around in the trunk became incessant and annoying.  When I watched her struggle in her bonds as my assistant and chauffeur lifted her from the boot of the car, I remained stoic, distracted, and a little bored, as if surgically modifying criminals into sex toys was an every day affair.
Her words of hate were blocked by the heavy leather muzzle tightly strapped to her face.  Her eyes flashed, and shot their arrows at me.
Despite my air of coolness, I couldn’t help but drink deep from the well of her gaze.  Those eyes! Beguiling, enchanting, captivating, struck like a cheap shot to the gut.  
As my assistant wrestled to latch on to those long powerful legs, bound together with Gaffer's tape, I studied their curve, their journey to lost, fantasy regions.
They finally grabbed ahold of the trashing, kicking girl and the two of them, along with Dr. Marcus' assistants, secured her to a gurney and wheeled her inside, her eyes of fury still seeking me out, only flickering to fear as they brought her into the operating theater.
It was only then, not jail, the court, the judge’s sentence, that she questioned her choice of volunteering for alternate sentencing.
Terror filled her as the gown clad staff entered the room.  The two doctors reviewed her procedure, and casually pointed to where the amputations would take place, her arms, her legs, the modifications to her face and throat, to her tender, quivering pussy.
"She doesn't look like a Hacker." Dr Marcus startled me with her sudden presence, standing at my elbow.
"She was a Social Hacker."  I explained, my eyes still locked on the display through the one way mirror.  "She flirted with corporate execs and tech staff to worm passwords or personal data from them, and then gave that information to her boyfriend who did the actual hacking and did billions in damage and destroyed the lives of a similar number."
She nodded.  "Well this will put an end to that."
I watched as they put her under.  She struggled to stay conscious, to fight to the last.
When she finally slipped into unconsciousness they removed the gag and for the first time I got a good look at her face.  Helen of Troy!  How men would rage war for her!  Captivating!  Lips full of passion, soft, succulent.
"I originally planned to do the whole procedure at once."  Dr Marcus began suddenly.  "But they're very evasive procedures."  Her eyes, sharp and crystal blue flashed up to me, reading my thoughts, my hesitation.  "That, increases risks.  Tell you what.  We'll do the basic stuff and you can bring her back in a few weeks for the rest.”
“Whatever you think is best, doctor.”  I replied.
In the recovery room, I watched Danielle's eyes flash open, searching in near panic until they found the mirror on the wall that the staff left for her.  I can not imagine the horror she must have felt when she realized her arms had been removed at the shoulders.   How helpless she must have felt at that moment.
Her mouth was filled with a glistening steel ball, a Pierce Gag.  A heavy gauge rod had been pushed through her cheeks and through the ball, keeping it in place.  Large locking lugs secured on each end where nestled in her darling dimples and welded shut.
It was only a start of the modifications that Dr Hugo Maxxe, Dr. Marcus’ colleague, who specializes in face and throat reconstructions had planned. 
For now, all he did was adjust her palate and tongue, making intelligible speech impossible.  She could only murmur and purr.  A few bones in her jaw and ear canal were adjusted so that they vibrated horribly if she made any noise above a soft mew.  A normal speaking tone would cause her extreme pain, like a hot brand across her temples, and a scream was surreal agony as she immediately discovered.  Soon she would be conditioned to her new levels of volume and simply incapable of anything more than sensual moans to communicate.
As I watched her, I watched her indomitable spirit drain, as I knew it would.  She broke, there in the recovery room.  Her head was a torrent of agony from her fresh and extensive operations compounded by her short lived screams.  It was all too much for her soul to bear.  All that arrogance!  Gone!  Like the snuffing of a candle flame.
She sobbed dry tears. 
Dr. Maxxe had re-routed her tear ducts, nipped a few nerves in her face and adjusted a few muscles.  The only expressions she was allowed were a delicate Mona Lisa smile or exuberance.  Happiness or agony displayed the same face of delight.  Watching herself in the mirror, terrified, wrapped in torment, she appeared overjoyed.
She had yet to see the worst of it.