Cherry Ch. 06: 1st Body Modifications

An all-too-familiar pain permeated my insides as I sat in the passenger seat. Moments ago Daddy was enjoying fucking with my head while he fucked my tight asshole. Now, he was driving me to have my lips augmented. Though "driving" wasn't the right word; of course, the rich asshole had a state-of-the-art self-driving vehicle. This only made it easier for him to focus on tormenting me.

"I still haven't quite decided how puffy I'll be making those lips today," Daddy mused, "definitely bigger than a run-of-the-mill teen Instagram influencer. But not quite as big as those bimbo-fetish models."

I shuddered at the thought of the latter.

"Speaking of lips, you never thanked Daddy's cock for fucking you a few minutes ago," Daddy unzipped his pants, "don't put your mouth on it--road safety and all that--but I want you to bend down and show your gratitude for fucking you just now."

Before I comprehended what I was doing, I repositioned myself so that my knees were on the seat and I was bending my head down toward Daddy's crotch. Gently, as if I was lifting the most precious, rock-hard diamond in the world, I pulled Daddy's cock from his pants. I ran the tip of my nose from its base to its head, delivering soft kisses at every half-inch.

"Thank you SO MUCH for fucking this tight ass," I cooed through pursed lips, "this little bitch is SO grateful that you chose to mark her and make her your whore." I continued to rub my face up and down the cock as I kissed, thanked, and complimented it. "You're so big and dominant," I accented each word with my lips pouting outward, "this whore gets weak at the knees just thinking of you." I went on like this for the next twenty minutes of our ride to the clinic. I was amazed by the ridiculous, slutty monologue coming out of my mouth. "Please never stop fucking your slut's ass and mouth," I whispered with my forehead against the shaft and my eyes gazing submissively upward, "please never stop dominating this tight cunt."

I was unable to stop long enough to look up and out the window when the car came to a stop. "You can stop now," Daddy patted the back of my head. I pouted and let out a whimper when he put the monster away. "Don't move," Daddy ordered as he stepped out of the car. Walking around to the passenger's side, Daddy opened my door and gestured permission for me to step out of the car.

If not for my conditioning to the contrary, I would have likely wept under that warm sun and cool breeze. It had been too long since I had been outside Daddy's house. Daddy put his hand on the small of my back and guided me toward the building.

As if this was not his first time here, Daddy passed right by the building receptionist and security and led me to the elevators. On the ride up, Daddy gave me a new set of instructions. "This doctor is a business associate mine. He wouldn't care that you're not here by your own will, so don't bother trying to get any messages out. And even if someone asks you a question, you're not to speak unless I permit you. This procedure will not be documented, so you won't have to sign anything. On that note, I'm eventually going to have you declared legally dead, so you won't have to worry about signing anything from this point forward. I'll make you sign a will later bestowing your meager belongings to a holding company of mine."

As the elevator doors opened and the finality of my situation set it, my heart sank. Daddy guided me to a front desk where a short, plump woman sat. She sported a short, mom-bob haircut and wide-brimmed glasses. She looked to be in her early thirties and wore no visible makeup.

"Can I help you?" her butch, disinterested voice demanded.

"Good morning!" Daddy laid his rich, velvety voice on the woman, "my friend and I are here to see Dr. Moffet."

"Name?" She didn't look up from her computer.

"This is an off-the-books patient. My name is Mr. Black."

The woman's face perked up immediately. "Ah yes, the trans patient! Dr. Moffet will see you immediately!" Was that the narrative that Daddy was spinning? That this was some kind of gender-affirming procedure?

The woman looked sweetly--if not a little condescendingly--in my direction. "So proud of you, Sweetie! This takes a lot of courage." I smiled politely. She probably misinterpreted the terror in my eyes as normative, pre-procedure fear. Daddy guided me through double doors behind the counter.

We were greeted by a hunched, balding man with an Eastern European accent. "Jay, it is so good to see you, my friend! Please, this way to my office!"

Daddy sat in a chair across a desk from the doctor. I was never instructed to sit, so I stood awkwardly by Daddy's chair. Neither of the men acknowledged my presence.

The two chatted about recent business deals. I'm not familiar with how finance or companies work, but I gleaned that this doctor was something called an "angel investor," and had helped Daddy early in his career.

"You've made me a wealthy man," Doctor Moffet leaned back in his chair, "at this point, I only work because it is what I love to do. Helping you in this little side-project is the least I can do."

"And I'm eternally grateful, Doc." It turns out that Daddy doesn't turn off his smooth, charismatic voice, even when talking to people he knows. "Remember when I brought in my ex-wife, Brianna? I want you to puff this little slut's lips to just a bit fuller than hers."

"That I can do! I'm curious, whatever happened to your Brianna?"

"I caught her trying to get into my computer. She was too curious about the work I do. So I persuaded her to be a live-in maid for an investor friend of mine."

The doctor laughed and wagged his finger at Daddy. "Jay, you can be such a card! Tell me, how much were you compensated for this persuasion?"

"Oh, good Doctor," Daddy lowered his voice, "you know that it's tacky to discuss financials. He probably sold her for a profit after wearing her out anyway. She's probably not conscious or coherent enough to do much more than lay around and take a fucking these days anyway."

"Of course! My apologies for prying. Well, let's take care of this one here," the doctor gestured toward me, "little Miss..."

"I haven't decided on a name yet. She's barely more than furniture by this point anyway."

"Ah ha-ha, you've always had a taste for expensive furniture," Doctor Moffet shook his head, "do her house outfits match that beautiful dark cherry-wood table of yours?"

"Cherry," Daddy looked contemplative, "that's a good point, Doc. My furniture should match. Yes, go ahead and take Cherry here and fix up those lips."

So that was it. This was my new name. Cherry. Named on a whim to match this asshole's furniture.

"Has Cherry eaten anything today?" the Doctor asked.

"Food? No, Doc." Daddy grinned and conspicuously glanced down at his crotch.

The doctor snorted, "just couldn't help yourself, my friend?" Daddy said nothing but shrugged and winked.

The procedure was over quickly. The doctor injected something at several points into my lips. I wondered whether it hadn't occurred to Daddy to order me not to feel the pain, or if the asshole wanted it to hurt. Either way, it hurt much less than many of the punishments that Daddy had levied.

After the procedure, the doctor didn't even bother to show me my reflection. It was clear that I was not the customer here.

On the way to the car, I caught a passing glance at my reflection in Daddy's window. While Daddy hadn't gone with the gaudy, bimbo look, my lips were visibly augmented and fated to please cock. My heart sank. Daddy opened my door and ushered me into the car.

He had barely gotten in the car himself when he snapped his fingers and pointed to his crotch. Even though he didn't say a word, my brain knew what I was being ordered to do, and I immediately went to unbuckle his belt. "The doc tells me that immediate use will probably be painful for you but won't ruin the procedure. I frankly don't care if it hurts, so I'll be test-driving my new toys."

I couldn't not fight through the pain as I enthusiastically went to town on Daddy's cock. My lips burned at the friction as my head bobbed up and down in his lap. The augmentation must have had an effect, because in much less time than usual, Daddy grabbed the back of my head and forced my face to the base of his cock as he pumped stream after stream of warm cum into my throat.

"Suck it all up, Cherry. I will be disappointed if a single drop hits my upholstery." At that statement, the possibility of any spillage filled me with terror. I felt as though I'd turn my face inside-out with the force at which I sucked on Daddy's softening member. I then licked around this groin and furiously checked around his seatbelt and pants for any stray drops. Relief slowly sat in as I was satisfied that I swallowed it all.

Daddy swatted my ass. "Now buckle up, Cherry. You don't have a formal identity right now, so I'd rather not be pulled over. Not that the city's police department would do anything about a wealthy lawyer and his love slave."

"Yes, Daddy," I breathed through my inflamed lips.

Daddy outlined the next steps in my body modification on the drive back. I felt that he was more thinking out loud than talking to me. Not that he needed my knowledge or consent for any of this.

"I like the progress on your ass and hips, but it could be much better. I'll email the doc about adjusting your hormone levels. For now, a Brazilian butt lift to shift you toward a more feminine fat distribution will be a good next step. I'd like some implants in those ass cheeks of yours as well. You could benefit from tits; we'll start you off with C-cups and move up from there. And we need to do something about that clit and those balls of yours. You're already pretty small, but I notice you getting hard when you're sucking me or when I'm fucking you. And it's an eye-sore. Some of my more adventurous clients might want a lady with a little cock, so I won't get rid of it just yet. I'll just make you tuck it so I can't see the garish thing through your outfits."

Despite the extreme modifications ahead of me, I felt relief that Daddy would allow me to keep my cock and balls. That made the changes less permanent somehow. It implied that there was still a chance for things to go back. I knew that implants and silicone could be removed, and that butt lifts were not permanent. And hormones could be rebalanced. As long as I kept my cock and balls, I could go back to the way I was if I ever got out.

The familiar dread and guilt filled my chest. Fuck. Was just the thought of "getting out" enough to constitute violating my rules? Was hope itself a violation? My breathing hastened. I pulled my arms around my chest as I rocked back and forth.

"Uh oh, did someone think a naughty thought?" Daddy gave me a side-eyed glance.

"I-I'm so sorry, Daddy!" I barely managed to get the words out through my panting. "I thought about getting away and going back to being a boy!" I couldn't stop the words as they left my sore, swollen lips.

"That's a BAD girl," Daddy admonished. The dread and guilt doubled at Daddy's words. I clenched forward in the passenger seat. "That is a BAD girl for thinking those naughty thoughts." The dread and terror seemed to redouble. I stared in front of me with my mouth wide open, but my panting stopped and I felt unable to breathe. "I am profoundly disappointed, Cherry. Daddy is unhappy that you had those thoughts." Still unable to breathe, my arms and shoulders started to convulse. Daddy let me stir in this hell for several more moments before he allowed me to relax.

"Relax. It's okay, Cherry. Daddy forgives you." I let out an audible cry as I was finally able to exhale. I sharply inhaled and cradled my face in my hands. Daddy's hand reached over to my face. "Daddy is going to help you stop thinking those naughty thoughts. Just trust Daddy."

I felt disgusted by the profound relief that set in. I was able to take slower breaths. I cradled my face against Daddy's outstretched hand. "I'm so sorry, Daddy," I managed to get out.

"You can relax, Cherry. We'll be okay."

I leaned back against the seat as the car pulled into Daddy's driveway. Was he conditioning me away from any hope of return? If he wanted to break me, couldn't he just do so with a simple command? Did he enjoy the process of conditioning me to associate hope with dread? Perhaps this is how his cognitive conditioning worked. Perhaps this was one way that my new owner had rewired my brain, to change me from a college-educated boy to a pliable, complaint, obedient fuck doll.

I remembered Daddy telling me that he always wanted a little Caleb inside of me, protesting against what I was doing. Would it then be an act of rebellion to let that little Caleb die? To give up hope of every not being a bimbofied love slave? Was this the only desire that my owner had that I could disobey? Or is this what he wanted?

**TO BE CONTINUED**