Chapter #5It was Sandy's parole officer. by: Mr. George  Sandy groaned as the name lit up her screen. But she knew she couldn't just ignore it, or he'd track her down. Her phone, and those damned nanites installed by the Justice Department.
Cradling her bust, or as much as she could hold in her tiny hands, Sandy sighed again. This time, recalling her original body before the shop-lifting conviction. She thought of Alexander James, and his moment of weakness. Remembering the deafening sound of the alarms ringing at his act of defiance. The cold dread filling his bones, as he knew the penalty he faced. A spike of pain stabbed her brain, as her nanites punished her for the recollection of his past life.
Sliding her finger across the screen, she answered the phone, "Hi, Mister Harkness." keeping her voice bright and perky, she didn't want to be accused of resisting her punishment.
At least it's only for a year. So he didn't want any time added on, or for another penalty.
The potential punishments for disobedience, or even reluctance were severe. Sandy felt them doubly-so, as they focused on making a body more feminine. A plumpening of the bust, a thinning of a girl's waist, or a rounding, firming, enhancing of a girl's rear.
She thought back to the most resistant men, who'd snarled and fought, denying even their new busty bodies. Only to receive bigger busts, plumper, peachier arses, or waists that needed corsets just to support their upper bodies. All the enhancement, plus addition time added on to their sentence.
Despite her best efforts, Sandy imagined it.
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A shudder ran down her spine, and humiliatingly, a ripple rolled across her bust, too.
"Hello, Sandy, how are you today?" his voice breezy but tired.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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