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"Do tell us, Francis. Are there any pieces we have yet to see?" Frank
inquired.
"These are all that I have," Francis said. "I did have a few other items at one time. They did not fit with the room or my sensibilities."
"I don't suppose you would care to tell us what those other items were?" Eric asked.
"They were practical items. Some were repetitions of what I already had. For instance, one was a lamp," Francis told them. "She appeared much like Coatrack, but lacked artistic merit. One was a chair and another a couch; I even had a coffee table. They were practical household items, as I said. Art is not practical, nor should it be particularly functional. Mostly, art should not be dull. Those furnishings were dull."
"What happened to these pieces, Francis? Are they stored away or were they disposed of?" Beatrice asked, watching the suddenly curious Monique.
"They are living their lives, I am sure, with whomever Jerry found for them," Francis told them. "Jerry, can tell you better than I."
"They are in our offices being used for exactly what they were designed." Jerry said
"You don't sell them to other clients?" Mia asked.
"Most clients want to pick out their girl. They like to know who she was before she is transformed," Jerry replied. "Generally we do not sell returned projects."
"Well then, we should commence with our task," Frank said, clearing his throat.
"Yes, let's do commence," Mia said.
Beatrice leaned forward, casting herself into the light and catching the attention of room. "Such a lovely thing, you are, Monique. So small and well formed. Do you think you would like larger breasts? You would look quite exotic with breasts twice the size of your head."
Blinking at the cruel woman, Monique shivered. Images of herself with breasts too large to carry filled her mind, bringing tears to her eyes. "No," she whispered.
"I've always wanted a mermaid," Mia said. "But how would you make the tail?
"I imagine Jerry could fuse her legs together and cover them with his synthetic skin," Francis suggested.
"Exactly," Jerry said. "We have just such a project in the works. Her heels would also be removed for aesthetic reasons."
Monique stared at her feet, listening to her inner dialogue, torn between childhood fantasy and real life horror. "I don't want to be a mermaid," she muttered.
"I'm sorry, dear heart, what was that?" Beatrice asked.
"I don't want to be a mermaid," she said.
"I don't think it's your choice," Beatrice taunted. "You no longer have a choice in anything."
"I do, you witch!" Monique hissed, anger finding its way to the surface.
Leaning close to the girl, Beatrice smiled. "Look at yourself. You are naked and bound in a room full of people who are deciding your fate. What choice do you have?"
Monique glared at the woman. "Let me go and I will show you what choice I have."
"She would be lovely on the prow of a ship, don't you think?" another voice asked.
"Yes," Francis said, "she would be lovely. But I don't have a boat."
Chuckles rose about the room.
"I do like Beatrice idea. Breasts that are too big to carry," Francis said. "Monique, I do think we are on our way."
The girl looked up to where the voice came from, her eyes sad and teary.
"Haven't you always wanted bigger breasts, dear?" Beatrice taunted. "Tell me you haven't shaken your tits for the attentions of a man."
"Fuck you!" the girl screamed.
"Maybe later you will get the chance to fuck me. Have you ever eaten pussy?
"You sick bitch," Monique screamed. Suddenly, she bucked towards her tormentor, in a futile attempt to kick her.
Beatrice laughed at the struggling girl, grabbing her by the hair and yanking her head back. "Soon, very soon, you will be an inanimate object. Or maybe you will be an animal; a house pet or a mermaid," Beatrice said. "Maybe a bitch to service dogs. Maybe Jerry can help you grow fur and make your face into a muzzle. How would you like that?"
Looking up from the girl, Beatrice looked towards Jerry, holding the girls steady. "What about that Jerry? Is it possible to turn her into a dog; a hairy mutt with paws and a muzzle?"
"It is quite possible," Jerry said. "She would not be the first to undergo such a transformation."
"Give us a bark, princess," Beatrice demanded, still holding the girl by her hair.
"No!"
"Oh, you'll bark," she said, reaching for the girl's right nipple.
"Fuck you!" Monique screamed.
Nails dug into the soft flesh of the girl's breast, pulling and gouging at her sensitive nipple.
"Bark," Beatrice demanded again. "Show me what kind of bitch you can be!"
"No!" came the screamed response. More screams came from the girl as her right breast was tormented.
Beatrice released her nipple and slid her hand down between the girl's legs, digging her fingers inside the girl's sex. "You'll bark now, bitch!"
Screams and growls of pain filled the room, as the girl was tortured until, at long last, the girl could take no more.
"Arf!"
"Again," the woman demanded.
"Arf!" she screamed. "Arf, arf, arf. Please, stop. Please."
"From now on, when I say 'Speak' you are to bark," Beatrice commanded, her voice a low hiss in the girl's ear. "If you do not I will rip your cunt from between your legs and feed it to you. Now, speak, bitch."
"Arf!"
Releasing her hold, Beatrice patted the girl on her head. "Good dog."
Falling to her side upon release
from Beatrice's cruel hands, Monique panicked. Lost in confusion and fear, her
tearful crying became a fit. She shook and shuddered, issuing strange words
from her mouth. Cries for her mother and father were heard as she negotiated
with no one for her freedom. Then, at long last, she rested her head on the
deep red carpeting and fell into an open-eyed trance, lost in a terrifying nightmare.
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