Chapter 1: Introduction: Esta Stonewall

   

      Esta Stonewall stood proudly over her pet subject. She looked frightening in the eerie reddish glow of her workshops foglight. It was warm and musty in the chamber, and a thin blanket of fog coated the floor at her feet. Esta craved the heat, and giggled as a trickle of sweat strolled down her chest. She reached out to touch the slave bound to the chair before her. 

      Warm saliva trickled down her fingers as she stroked her slaves lips. Esta smiled, sweat trickled down her forehead as she admired her work. The slave bound to the chair was the most precious female, she had been under Esta’s direct oversight for the better part of seventeen hours, and Esta was starting to grow bored of her. 

      Esta’s crimson hair was disheveled after her long hours of toil, and her armor clung to her bare skin loosely. She couldn’t wait to let her bussoms breathe, to let the cool crisp air brush against her naked flesh. A bath would also be greatly appreciated. Esta had a dozen other modified slaves drawing a warm tub full of their own breast milk as she worked. They would be finished soon, and bathing in motherly essence always warmed the spirit.

      But that would have to wait; the woman strapped in the chair was soaked with a thick layer of sweat. Her breasts were laden with milk, and sagging under duress. Swollen nipples glistened with a dark purple hue, as her mammary glands were in full production. Her lactating buds trickled unendingly down her copper skin and onto the floor. 

      Esta felt a tingle between her legs just looking at her slave. The first phase of the slave’s body modification was finally complete, the genetic re-write was starting to take hold. Esta had become a brilliant fleshwright over the years, and was happy with the results. There was no need for a mind wipe, the slave would slowly be consumed by her own lust and decadence. By then, the slave would willingly leave her old life behind, and embrace what she was becoming. 

      “Have you come yet?” Esta asked the slave. “I fear I went a little too hard on your delicate pussy, but don’t worry, I can tell you’re starting to enjoy it.” 

      The slave didn’t respond, instead she shot Esta a cold glare. One that screamed, you will regret this.

      Esta could’ve laughed, but in a way she pitied the slave too much. The pleasure and pain she was feeling during this crucial stage must’ve bordered on rapturous. Esta was jealous. She wasn’t concerned about the slaves revulsion. She would turn around eventually, they all did eventually. 

      Esta froze, a memory came to mind as she watched her victim squirm on the chair, one of pain and delicious pleasure. The memory was of her own transformation, when a bloated overseer glared over her own convulsing body as her form mutated before his eyes. She had grown extra pairs of breasts, and became an hermaphrodite under the care of his fleshwrights.   

      Esta Stonewall sighed to herself, displeased with her pets less than forthcoming reaction. The slave had been just another spacer hybrid, cast adrift in the darkness of the void, left to her own survival. She had been a fragile thing, thin with bleached white skin and gaunt cheek bones. Now the slave was beautiful, her body given a delightful purpose. 

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      Esta had saved many slaves like her, the dispossessed of humanity come to be cradled in her flesh forges. Esta’s workshop was one of tubes and ghastly mechanisms designed to mold the clay of human flesh to her liking. Tubes and machines decorated the walls of the workshop, it was her private sanctuary aboard her ship, the Daughter of Silesia. 

      Years ago Esta had been a simple merchant, turned mercenary in a war of rebellion. Her fight ended abruptly once she was captured by the slave masters. Under the hands of Overseer Giess, Esta Stonewall’s body was genetically modified. She now had three pairs of breasts. Her original were swollen and firm. Just underneath, the second pair were smaller, yet supple. Underneath that second pair, a third set of smaller orbs perked toward the surface. The added bussoms weren’t the only thing the cruel Overseer had given her. The phallus between her legs was standing at attention.

      Suddenly, just as Esta was about to turn away, the slave began to scream. Esta froze as she watched in amazement as the woman’s bone structure began to change. Her bone density thickened, muscle fibers scrambled to re-attach themselves. Organ’s swelled, causing the woman to spit up a bucket full of bile as her breasts began to grow even further.

      This was the fun part. 

      Esta brushed her red hair back as the young woman’s coconut sized breasts began to enlarge into plump balloons. The genetic programming had reached the next stage rather savagely. Viral agents fed the slave’s IV’s, causing her to convulse with each haggard breath. Esta made sure to triple the number of milk glands in the woman’s reforged breasts so that she would forever be laden with milk, turning her into the perfect sow. But she hadn’t expected this kind of reaction. 

      The slave jerked back as her skin began to change. Her pigments, once pale as a porcelain doll, began to flirt with new auburn and amber coloration. Soon her skin would adjust to a warm olive shade, which helped to disguise the dark blue veins pulsing in her chest.

      Esta had toyed with the idea of adding to the slave’s libido, or perhaps altering her genetic strands farther, but she wasn’t in the market for another sex slave. Seeing the slave’s reforged body however, she started to regret that decision. 

      Esta decided that during the next phase of modification, she would enlarging the woman’s clitoris, and stimulate the ovaries to heighten egg production. But for now, Esta was fine with turning this subject into a milk fountain. 

      It would take an additional three hours for the machine, pumping chemical cocktails and gene coded nano machines into the slave’s body, to finish its work. By that point the slave would be thoroughly exhausted. Esta couldn’t wait to see the slaves pitiful reaction when it was finished. Until then she would let the machines do their work. 

      The slave’s screams finally guttered into nonsensical blabber, by then Esta had already walked away. She couldn’t wait to continue with this subject, but there were others to attend to as well, and Esta had already spent too much time on this work.  

      As she left the workshop behind, the doors sealed shut behind her with a thud. Neon illumination glowed overhead, and the ships hull groaned as the sub-light engines dragged it through the endless void. 

      The Daughter of Silesia roamed the vastness of space like a shark, gliding unceasingly without a care for any other predator that might roam its seas. It’s constant hunger could never be sated, no matter how many victims it snared. And like herself, the Silesia was a product of manipulation and enhanced modification. There were none that could best it in war, or outrun it’s chase. None except, perhaps, its cousin ship…the Son of Thrace.

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