Taken Ch. 04: Rhona's Story

I stood in front of the full-length mirrors, which surrounded me, enabling me to see every side of my body simultaneously. I knew it was me, not that I recognised me anymore. I tell a lie, my eyes were the same, but that was all. Beside me, my owner was gloating for turning a size sixteen, eighteen-year-old frump into what I now saw reflected in front of me. Even my own mother wouldn't know me. If I said hello Mum, she wouldn't know my voice, elocution lessons had changed it. I had a waist, my hips still flared, childbearing hips a "kind" Uncle had told me when I was fourteen, I'd hidden under the bed in tears until they'd left. My legs were sculpted by hours and hours in the gym, my bum had been enhanced by squats, then more squats, followed by squats. Four ribs had been removed to give me the waist, plus sit-ups. My breasts, the 38C's were now 34E's, and augmented, even my nipples had been moved upwards. A liposuction to flatten what the gym couldn't.

The face that looked out at me wasn't mine. I'd had a nose job, straightened, and shaved to produce more pleasing shape. Not to me. My teeth straightened, and capped, the front two abstracted and replaced with implants. Even my cheek bones hadn't escaped the surgeon and were now pronounced. My eyebrows were arched, the body hair below them had been permanently lasered.

And I was blonde.

**

"Don't be late home luv," my Mum called.

"I won't, I'm only going down the pub with the girls," I lied, slamming the front door, and hurrying down to the pub, but we never intended to stay there. It was nice enough, but we'd never pull there, unless it was some old perv.

I rolled my skirt up as I walked down the alley that led to the main road, then hurried along the street as fast as my flats would let me. I'd have worn trainers, but they wouldn't let you into the dance club in them.

Typically, Emma was late, her Mum was worse than mine, like that's really saying something, like it's the twenty first century, catch up. Emma's girlfriend was there, Laura. I really liked her, she was always nice to me, unlike Cara, who was a fucking bitch, and took the piss when I ordered a slimline and vodka. Well, I preferred the taste. I wished I had a BFF like Laura, but I didn't, but I thought if they broke up, I'd be there, that or they'd attract some guys, or girls, I didn't mind, and I'd pick up what was left. I'd fucked a couple of boys now I was eighteen, but it wasn't very satisfying, not like in pornos that I watched on my tablet. That wasn't very good either, the screen like their penises were too small. I'd thought about girls, but apart from kissing Laura on my birthday I hadn't technically had sex with one, apart from "Miss Laura," my vibrator, and I suppose she didn't count.

"Rhona, another drink?" Laura asked.

"No, I'll just make this one last for now, but thanks."

She was always so kind, and totally gorgeous, I wished I was Emma, who was a perfect ten.

"There you go, one vodka slimline" Laura said, putting the glass down on the table. "Squeeze up."

She sat beside me her thigh warm against mine.

"I don't know where Em's got to, she only had to go home, change and get back here, ah, here she is now."

And with that she was gone, gone to be with her lover, still she did buy me a drink. We didn't stay once Emma got here, she had a quick drink, and we were off to the club. No one danced with me until the end usually. Then we were moving again, to a party. And what a party, plenty of free drinks, I had a spliff, Cara was doing a line. Then it went tits up, and I was being fucked on the sofa with everyone in the room. No one cared they were all being done as well. Michelle was trying to push some boy off her, but gave up, Laura was just going with it. Emma was having her arse fucked and screaming like a banshee. I had more sex than I'd ever had, including with my vibro, "Miss Laura," as my body count shot up, doubling, then trebling. And I was cumming, and cumming, as I watched Laura across the room.

****

I must have blanked out the next few days, Laura had said it had been three days, I wasn't sure, and she wasn't here anymore. I couldn't stop crying, so they gave me some sort of injection, it totally spaced me out, I smiled like a total idiot.

The lights were bright, blinding me. I didn't know where my friends had been taken to, only I was alone. I was scared and wet myself. They were selling me, like some sheep at an auction, I could hear the bidding, the drugs didn't stop me hearing. Those that were interested in me had taken a detailed look, one or two sticking their fingers where they had no business being. One pinched my nipple so hard it made me cry, again. They were bidding, someone said Emma had sold for one million dollars, but I'd be lucky to make one hundred thousand dollars, because I was overweight, if I'd looked after myself, I'd have made a lot more, and have a better life.

I had a better life; it was my life to do with whatever I wanted. My body had been my own, and if I wanted to be a size sixteen, that was my decision. Now it was someone else's. My owner.

***

I don't know who he was, or what he was like. I was strapped to some sort of frame as my body and face were discussed in detail. I was to be altered, to meet with his requirements. I wanted to scream, but I had a ball gag in my mouth, so I contented myself in biting down on it.

"I want it's waist to be really narrow, which will be further enhanced by its hips, they stay, what do you suggest?" My owner asked.

"I'll remove the bottom two ribs on each side obviously, that will do the job, look."

I felt something on my skin, a sharpie drawing on me.

"That will work, its tits will need lifting, what do suggest?"

"A diet, it needs to lose a quarter of its body weight, then we'll augment them, a double D, possibly an E, what is it now ... ah yes 38C. I think we'll aim for 34DD, but hope for an E."

"Not any bigger?"

"No. it will be out of proportion if we went for that, I'll do the arse, once it's had Misha in the gym, then and only then we'll look at implants."

"Good thinking, its face?"

"The cheek bones, I can do something with them, you want them to be like wing mirrors I take it, well that's not a problem. Now the teeth, it's got bugs bunny ones, I can fix those, but it will take time, when do you want it ready to move on?"

"Six months?"

"I could try, but when we did that with the last one it was too quick, that's why it snuffed it, give me time, give it time. What did you pay for it?"

"100k."

"You'll be paying that again for this work, you know that, but I think we can look to sell it on for at least seven. I'll take those two teeth out, then work on the others, before I put some implants in. The nose needs doing, not a problem. It needs some liposuction once the ribs are out. I'll tidy its cunt up, reduce that clit hood, see if we can find a clit under all that skin."

"Sounds good, I'll leave it with you, it's whining is getting on my nerves, it's got a fucking annoying voice, so we might have to remove the voice box."

"No need, I've read about a trial procedure that will change it, risky, but worth a go, if it works it works, if not it won't be able to speak anyway."

"Win, win then."

Beside them I struggled and screamed into my gag.

Ten months later.

It had been for me a painful ten months, both in the gym and in the dentist's chair. But it was the series of operations that had hurt. I stood in front of the full-length mirrors, which surrounded me, enabling me to see every side of my body simultaneously. I knew it was me, not that I recognised me anymore. I tell a lie, my eyes were the same, but that was all. Beside me my owner was gloating, for turning a size sixteen, eighteen-year-old frump into what I now saw reflected in front of me. Even my own mother wouldn't know me. If I said hello Mum, she wouldn't know my voice, the op on my voice box and elocution lessons had changed it. My legs were sculpted by hours and hours in the gym, my bum had been enhanced by squats, then more squats, followed by squats. Four ribs had been removed to give me the waist, plus sit-ups. My breasts, the 38C's were now 34E's, and augmented, even my nipples had been moved upwards. Lipo to flatten what the gym couldn't. The face that looked out at me wasn't mine. I'd had a nose job, straightened, and shaved to produce more pleasing shape. My teeth straightened, and capped, the front two abstracted and replaced with implants. Even my cheek bones hadn't escaped the surgeon and were now pronounced. My eyebrows were arched, the body hair below them had been permanently lasered.

And I was blonde, and hot. I had the look of a model, the ones you see in those top shelf magazines in newsagents, looking down on everyone as they pout, wearing just their knickers. I walked like a catwalk model. I could do that now, if I were free. I wasn't. I was a piece of meat, my owner had laid out 240k on me, all in. Now he looked to turn that into a profit of 500k, not the million that Emma had fetch last year, she was a virgin, and I'd been a second-choice fat slut, if even that. Once I'd have just had the leftovers.

Now I was first choice prime pussy, everyone said so. They did!

He didn't waste any time, he fucked me every night in the lead up to the sale, making the most of what he'd created while he still could. I took him, in whatever orifice he chose, I had no choice, but I enjoyed it. I had power over a man, and I used that power whenever I could. But that power only extended so far. Tomorrow I was being sold, no power in that for me.

The next day.

I was naked on a stage, again. The new me pulled my shoulders back, thrust my new E cup tits out. I pouted at them, looked at them with total distain, showing my contempt of them all. I was a nineteen-year-old girl torn from my family to be some fuck toy for someone older than my father. Richer as well. They were beyond contempt. I hadn't needed to be drugged this time, but I'd been given something over the last month, every time I orgasmed, I got a shot, a reward, now I associated the orgasm with the reward, and I needed the reward.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we come to the last item on your list. A nineteen-year-old English rose, I confirm her age, although I think you'll agree she looks much younger. Included in the price is an optional sterilisation if she not required for breeding, although as you can see, she has the hips for it, and would make an excellent breed mare with the right stud."

"All bids are in guineas ladies and gentlemen, I have an online bid of three hundred and fifty thousand guineas, do I hear four hundred?"

"Four hundred."

"Four twenty-five."

Four hundred and fifty."

"Five hundred."

"Six hundred online."

"Six fifty in the room."

"Seven hundred."

And so, it went on, until:

"Nine hundred and fifty thousand guineas, going once, twice. I give fair warning I am selling for nine hundred and fifty thousand guineas... the gavel hit the desk, and the auctioneer shouted, SOLD."

***

I was his eye candy at the party, dressed in a neck to ankle sheer dress, naked beneath it, nothing hidden. Around my neck a titanium collar, which once it had been locked in place could not be unlocked, there wasn't a key, it could only be removed by being cut off, and they said that was impossible, so I'd wear it until I died. A chain led from the collar and was wrapped around his wrist, as I walked like a catwalk model on the runway in Milan, obediently behind him, the ring in what remained of my clit hood arousing me with every step I took. I needed an orgasm, then I could have my fix of meth which I was given after I'd cum, always straight after, the line between orgasm and fix blurred, but I had to be a good girl, or I'd go without. I'd be good, very good. The meth had made me a horny slut, desperate to fuck anything, men, women, toys, or animals if I really had to. I didn't care so long as I got what I needed, and I needed it now.

I was obedient. I was a good girl. I missed my Mum, but I'd make her proud of me by being the good girl she always wanted.

He was talking now to a woman. Blonde with cold blue eyes. Russian? In which case she was as cold as the Steppes in winter. She was old, like my Mum, so about forty, possibly a little more, or a little less, not that it mattered. I was a bargaining tool, nothing less. An expensive one, but one that would show a healthy return on investment. My Spanish is poor, so most of what they said went over my blonde head, although I know what puta means. I was his whore, or was that her whore now? I tried to concentrate, but it was hard. In my stripper heels I was 6' 3", taller than either of them, taller than most people in the room, people were looking at me, I'd become used to that. Then my chain was jerked, and I was led away, walking like a catwalk model in Milan. Except this wasn't Milan, and my owner no longer held the chain.

She took me to a suite, I was a gift for the night, to someone important they said. An ambassador I learnt later. She released the fastening of my dress, the reveal my completely naked body to him, he expressed his satisfaction.

"I want her nipples rings and clit ring sizes increased," he demanded.

"Certainly, Sir," the blonde replied.

"You may leave us, I'll call you when I finished with it, now on your knees slave," he said.

I was fishing his cock out of his trousers even before she'd left the room, not that her watching me suck his cock would have bothered me, fucking the same. His cock size was adequate, big enough for me to know he was inside me, but not so big that when it came time for him to fuck my bum that it would be uncomfortable, even for a size Queen like me.

I cupped his balls, devoid of any hair, then leant in, taking him into my mouth, working my tongue on the underside of his glands, as I massaged his balls, giving him my best, always my best. His cock now it was hard had a pronounced curve to it, one I hoped would easily find my G-spot, and get me off and then some, thus earning my reward, though right at that moment I wasn't sure who would be giving it, my only concern was that it would be.

He was halfway down my throat, I hummed gently, which vibrated, thus exciting his cock further, then he grunted and came in three massive ropes directly into my stomach, I was disappointed, as I'd not got off, he was disappointed he'd cum, before he fucked me.

"Keep sucking, you've got ten minutes to get me hard again, and get my cock in your cunt."

Challenge accepted.

Nine minutes and a few seconds later I spread my long legs, and sank down on to his banana shaped cock, and began fucking him. The curved cock perfect for my greedy vagina, who's walls clamped around him and his purple headed shaft, with a series red rings around it. That head did what I needed to my G-spot, causing me to gasp."

"Let me fuck you harder Sir, it is my utter pleasure to have you inside me, my anus is also available to you, should you wish it."

"Then fuck me harder and shut the fuck up!"

I ground down on him, never saying another word. You can't please some people no matter what you do or say!

She collected me, his cum dripping down my thighs, no knickers and no panty liner so only one place for it to go.

A week later, new rings in place I was back, and being fucked hard, never saying a word, or uttering a sound even when I came, somehow, I managed to internalise the intense feelings. I was his regular slut, sometimes once, sometimes more every week. He wasn't the only one, but his cock made him memorable.

Three years later, he was back again at his embassy, and he was added to my list once more, only the route in had been changed. As I was bent over a chair having my arse fucked again, I planned, and schemed. It was a chance; I might never get another. When it came, I almost missed it.

The Russian woman wasn't my escort, a man was, one who thought escorting me was below his pay grade. He was sloppy going in, plain negligent coming out. His phone rang, he let go of my chain, just for a fraction of a second. In that fraction I was gone, ten metres to safety, ten long metres. But I ran as if my life depended on it, and it probably did now, to the Union Flag of the British Embassy.........

Twelve years after our abduction.

The car took me to Biggin Hill airport to the southeast of London. The trip had been checked by Interpol, but even they couldn't or wouldn't say how they had found me with my new identity. I boarded the private jet, there was one other passenger, just one. She sat aloof, a pair of Ray Banns hiding her eyes. I was shown to my seat, and belted up, the plane began to taxi, and soon we were in the air. There was only one cabin crew who took my drink order, and then the other woman's.

"Michelle? Is that you?"

"Yes, but sorry, I don't know you, do I?"

"Rhona, I am Rhona......"

"Shut the fucking front door!"