Chapter 55: Chapter 15.3: Journey

   

      The world looked different when suspended above. Journey’s aching body was bound to a gurney that hanged horizontally roughly ten feet in the air. Her sweat stained body was hooked up to a series of instruments, each measuring certain vitals or collecting data over her physical condition.

      Suction cups attached to each of her throbbing nipples, and a milking tube wrapped around her erection. The constant suction drove her wild, her body was being milked for all its available sustenance. 

      Other tabs stung her torso, four in total that travelled the length of her midriff just underneath her gushing breasts. Thick blue veins pulsed with each erratic heartbeat. Her head was pounding, as if a thick and unrelenting fog clouded her vision. It made it difficult to rationalize or study her surroundings. Every one of her imbalanced senses were ravished to the breaking point, almost beyond repair.

      “Once I drain your tits,” a woman’s voice danced around the room. “And siphon that baby batter of yours, I’ll return you to your sanity. So don’t worry little dove, I’ll help you the best way that I can.” 

      Journey was barely able to see the strikingly tall overseer watching her from below. Her red hair was the only thing that Journey could make out, other than the singing of her voice. 

      She continued, “I’ll leave that glorious cock of yours alone, in fact I’ll make sure it stays permanent. But I’ll help your genetic modifications stabilize so that your not a complete maniac. Of course I expect proper compensation for my services. Don’t worry you can pay me later.”

      Somehow, through the malaise of madness Journey felt like she would regret whatever that entailed. Her breathing was labored, and saliva drooled from her tongue as she felt a sudden surge of fire through her groin.

      “Oh, and your milk glands are so over burdened, I fear those mounds of yours will grow saggy. To rectify the issue, I’m redistributing them to new breasts which I’m currently helping you develop and grow.” The overseers declaration sent a shrill of alarm through Journey’s senses.

      Journey’s body convulsed with wrathful spasms as she felt several hot spear tips along the sides of her torso. Each stab of blissful pain was centered around the four tabs linked to the machines built into the ceiling. Her nerves were tingling as new flesh was beginning to expand. The epicenter of each new growth tingled the worst, and was starting to redden. 

     .”Trust me, you’re gonna love em.”

      The burning sensation beneath her skin continued to grow steadily. New carmine colored nipples began to form, each rather large for the newly moulded orbs of fatty tissue underneath. The first new set of breasts were starting to appear perky and firm, they were laid out just underneath her original pair. They were smaller than her natural breasts, barely B-cups in comparison. 

      The third set growing along her torso were grown just underneath the second. They were tiny apples, barely noticeable accept for the stark nipples and blue veins pulsing underneath the newly formed flesh.  

      “I see your starting grow lucid, that’s a good sign. If you want I could extend the size of your penis? Simply nod your head, and I’ll make it a sight to behold?”

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      “Everything feels on fire,” Journey’s voice was thick and wet. 

      Esta Stonewall, her captor and overseer, touched her burning skin. “There there little dove. Don’t worry, soon you’re precious body will feel much better. But you didn’t answer my question. Want me to help leaden your pleasure stick?”

      Journey bit her lip, the fog of masochistic mania was starting to ebb and wane. She looked down at her fragile form, seeing the sprout between her legs twitch as another orgasm was yanked to the surface. New mounds of flesh formed along her torso, and her stomach clenched with each spasm of pleasure. Journey could feel her new milk ducts beginning to form, and her bladder emptied its contents as her legs squirmed. 

      “Come on, wouldn’t you like that bulge to truly stick out?” Esta’s finger strolled up Journey’s chin.

      Soaking in sweat, her breasts screaming in pain, and her erection throbbing with savage joy, the pieces of Journeys mind struggled to re-form. She looked down at her overseer. There was desire, pain, and tempered longing in her facial expressions. 

      “What do you want?” Journey struggled to ask.

      Esta lowered the gurney ever so slightly, just enough so that she could cup her hands over Journey’s cheeks. She then leaned up and pressed her lips against her own. Journey’s eyes rolled in the back of her skull as she tasted the woman’s dancing tongue. For several seconds Esta explored her mouth, when she finally departed the steam of her breath remained visible.

      “I want your seed. Lots of your amazing seed. I want to give you the greatest penis I’ve ever designed. And I want you to show me that you want me.”

      Sweat pooled along the groove of her shoulder blades, and dripped down her forehead. Journey’s entire body somehow felt numb and on fire at the same time. Every breathe was like inhaling shards of glass. Her newly forged nipples were already itching, small droplets of milk were beginning to drip from each of them. Through all this, Journey knew her permission was utterly irrelevant. This overseer was going to manipulate her genes, and transform her body regardless of any protests. Yet, somehow deep down Journey didn’t want it to stop.

      Journey opened her fluttering eyelids, and kept them stable enough to look Esta in the eye. She then squirmed from another overwhelming orgasm. Her stomach clenched as she felt her sensitive lower lips awash with mind numbing joy. A large container on the floor was already half full of semen, while other larger cylinders were filling with her mothers milk. 

      It took several seconds for the climax to run its course. Journey’s body went limb as she felt all six of her breasts swing in the damp air. It took several minutes to summon the sanity to speak, and by then she feared another wave was on its way. 

      “Don’t…hurt…the child,” Journey pleaded with her captor. 

      Esta smiled, “Don’t worry. That little bun in your oven is quite safe.”

      Journey gasped with relief and pleasure. She failed to summon the words to voice her approval. Instead she merely nodded a silent agreement, and watched as her manhood started to grow.

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