No Peeking!

 11/25

Martin manoeuvred the General's muscular body through the doorway into the studio. Having spent a lifetime sitting in front of a computer, he had never had such a powerful physique and he was enjoying the experience. He only wondered why he never used the genetic scripting technology to make him an imposing masculine body before. It certainly beat grinding away for hours at the gym. Still, with the technology he had in his possession, he could be anything he wanted whenever he wanted. He was the Artist after all....

The foreign billionaire followed the Artist into the studio and whistled with excitement upon seeing what was waiting for him inside.

“General, as always, it is a pleasure to do business with the United States military.” He circled the latex clad redhead – his eyes almost popping from his skull. “You know, my sources told me that the military's alias project was no longer operational and you personally had been reassigned. Boy, is it good to be wrong. She is made to order, I presume?”

“Down to finest detail,” Martin smiled as he watched the woman shuffling around on her knees in obvious confusion. Her brand new and exposed breasts jiggled with every movement.

“Excellent,” the businessman licked his lips, “may I ask why she is blindfolded?”

“Of course,” the Artist scratched his perfectly square jaw. “Given your generous financial commitment to purchase our custom ordered...product on an ongoing basis, I thought it only fair that you be the first to witness the finished order.”

“You mean, she hasn't seen...” The billionaire grinned hungrily as Martin nodded in confirmation.

For the man formerly known as the General, the world was dark and confusing. Most troubling of all was waking after what seemed like a century to hear his own voice coming from somewhere across the room. He would have assumed it was a recording except it seemed to move around and say things he couldn't ever remember saying. Equally perplexing was the way his body felt. It seemed weak and soft and enveloped in some kind of cold stretchy material. And, why did his nipples hurt so Goddamn much?.

Martin smiled as he recognised the slow realisation forming on the former General's newly feminine face. The real dread would come later when he was free to explore his new existence with his eyes and hands. Only, he would be far from the only one exploring his new body if the rumours about the Artist's client were true. Still, it was a punishment fit for a man that had overseen the project than had sentenced Martin to being the company fucktoy for two years. Ms. Williams, however, she deserved something far worse...