Goods and Services Part 1

 4/25

Had to make this one twice as my computer blue screen of deathed as I was about to save it. It is part of 'the Artist' series, which is in full on my linked caps page

zoli

“So this is who you are now? A mercenary selling his services to the highest bidder?” Ms. Williams spat from her position handcuffed to the leg of a laboratory desk.

“Huh?!” Martin followed her gaze to the security guard-turned-bimbo sitting against the wall and staring dumbly off into space. “You had no problem giving people what they wanted back when I was Bianca Beauchamp and what people wanted was to fuck me. At least now I can get paid for my creations...” He turned back to Ms. Williams and shook his head. “Don't worry, it will be your turn soon enough. Soon enough I won't even need to load you into the pod to manipulate your genes as I see fit.” He picked up a gun like device from the desk. “When this is finished I will be able to change who I like when I like where I like into whatever I like. No more of this cumbersome laboratory.”

Ms. Williams glared at him from behind her glasses and watched as the man who had become known as the Artist walked over to inspect his latest subject. She didn't know who he was, or rather, had been. When Martin had rolled him into the lab on a trolley he had been muscled and square-jawed like so many of the military men Martin had changed before but after being loaded into the genetic manipulation machine and shot with the by now familiar blue light, his former masculinity was a distant memory.

“Not bad, eh?” the Artist walked over for a closer inspection. “If I had a wife that looked like this, I would want her back after she ran away too.” He ran a thumb across his creation's plump lips before slipping it gently inside her mouth. The bimbo sucked instinctively while the eyes remained blankly staring ahead. “Excellent,” Martin grinned, “I expect my client will be making good use of that feature. He might need some Viagra though at his age.” He knelt so that his face was level with the former guard. “Sweetheart, I really hope you enjoy old man dick...because if you don't, you've got a long hard career as a trophy wife ahead of you.” He smiled at the hint of a twitch of the blonde's nose.

“You're sick,” Ms. Williams spat on the floor. “Don't get too used to playing God because it won't last. I've seen soldiers gangbang you stupid and I swear one day I will make you wish your life was that good again.”

“Oh but that's where you're wrong,” the Artist sneered. “I hold the power now – over you, over this dumb bitch and over anyone else who crosses my path. Now, Ms. Williams...” he pulled a pile of latex from a filing cabinet drawer, “how about you help me get my creation ready for her assignment? You can apply the lube!”