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Review This Story || Author: H. Dean

The Dinner Party - The O'Connell Chronicles

Chapter 6

The Dinner Party Ch6 - The O'Connell Chronicles Chapter 6

"Well," Ted said. "It appears that we are nearly back to square one. The only suggestion that seems to be headed in the direction you want, Francis, is a fuller bust."

"Yes," Francis replied. "While I don't want it to necessarily be practical, I don't want it to be ridiculously impractical. A mermaid, lovely though she may be, is very impractical. I would need a proper aquarium and all the necessities that come with such a thing."

"I am a bit fixated on the mermaid, though," Mia interrupted. "Impractical or not, she has the short waist and full hips I always imagined a mermaid to have. I'm sorry, I am not much help."

Francis smiled, agreeing with Mia. "She does have a pleasing shape, and I do agree. But I don't think I want to build an aquarium."

"What about a fountain?" Beatrice asked. "Mia is right about the girl being perfect as a mermaid. Perhaps you could put a fountain in your foyer: a mermaid fountain."

Monique looked into the darkness from whence the suggestion had come, returning to the present once again. A moan escaped her lips and she began struggling against her bonds.

"An excellent idea, Beatrice," Francis admitted. "I wouldn't mind having a small koi pond."

Murmurings of approval surrounded the struggling girl.

"So, Jerry, what do you think? Could you mold her into a fountain?" Beatrice asked.

Monique looked up, trying to remember where Jerry was seated, unable to see him outside her circle of light.

"Assuming Francis could plum the foyer, it is quite possible, "Jerry answered. "I would have to have one of my engineers draw up the plans, but it could be done."

Staring down at the girl, who was rediscovering her distress, Beatrice beckoned Jerry to continue. "Please elaborate, Jerry. How could this be accomplished?"

"As I envision it, after the main processing, her legs would be fused from the knees down," Jerry began.

"What do you mean by 'main processing'?" Beatrice asked, still staring at the girl.

"The internal processing; sterilization, hair removal, waste and organ modification. That sort of thing," Jerry said.

"Would you remove her teeth, as well?" Beatrice asked, enjoying the girl's reaction to Jerry's words.

"Teeth and nails. Anything that, in her modified state, might be useless or prove hazardous," Jerry said.

"Do go on," Beatrice said, a broad smile on her face.

"As I said, her legs would be fused from the knees down. We might even remove her feet, though the final design would determine that," Jerry explained. "I envision her high above the water, her back arched, thrusting her breasts outward, as if she had leaped from the water. I imagine we would manage that with titanium rods, though I would leave the exact method of stabilization to our engineers."

"You mean fused to her back?" Beatrice asked.

"I imagine so," Jerry answered. "The final details would need proper planning, of course. I would imagine that the titanium rods would run through her entire body, as I see her positioned at a forward leaning angle."

"What do you think, child?" Beatrice asked Monique, staring down at the terror filled girl. "Why don't you speak up and tell us what you think?"

No sounds came from the girl, much to Beatrice's disappointment. Instead, the girl silently continued her struggles, hoping and praying to free herself from the bonds that held her.

"I've an image in my head," Francis said. "Something from a book on mythology. Desk, fetch it. I believe it's on the top shelf."

Beatrice grinned sadistically. "Have you an image picked out so quickly, Francis?"

"Yes," he responded.

"Do you hear that girl?" Beatrice taunted Monique, slipping into the light beside her. "He knows what he wants already. You are to be a mermaid after all. Let's get you back up, shall we?

Grabbing the girl's hair, she lifted her to sit as she had before.

"Leave me alone," the girl demanded.

"Found your voice again, have you?" Beatrice chortled, her hand firmly gripping Monique's hair. "It'll do you no good. It will amuse me, though."

"I'm a human being! I'm not a toy. I'm real," she screamed, breaking into tears. "You can't do this to me!"

Beatrice grinned, yanking her head to face Jerry. "Listen up, girl. Listen to my question. Then listen to the answer. Are you ready?"

"Fuck you!" Monique screamed.

"Jerry," she began, ignoring the epithet, "how will you make her into a fountain? From what part of her body will the water spring?

"As I see it, the water will spring from her breasts. Of course, much depends on my engineers, but I imagine we will run piping through her body," Jerry replied.

Unsatisfied with the answer and enjoying Monique's fearful shaking, Beatrice continued her questioning. "I assume the water will spring from her nipples. What does this mean for her breasts?"

The girl squirmed in the hold of the woman, moaning her fear and discomfort but saying nothing.

"You are quite right," Jerry said. "The water will spring from her nipples. Her breast tissue, as is the case with most of our subjects, will be replaced with a foam-like substance. In this case, it may be a bit different."

"What do you say to that, princess?" Beatrice asked, jerking the girl's head back and staring into her fear filled eyes. "Your breasts will no longer be breasts. They will be foam. They won't be real, but they will never sag or shrivel."

"You're sick. All of you are sick," Monique spat.

"Thank you Desk," Francis said as the requested book was delivered to him. Fanning the pages, he sought to find the image he wanted. Finding it, he gave the book to Jerry.

"Yes, I think we can do that," Jerry said.

"Show it to me, Francis, won't you?" Beatrice asked.

Francis leaned forward, book in hand, and displayed the image.

"See that, girl. That is what you will look like," Beatrice said, pushing the girl's face towards the book. "Only your breasts won't be quite the same. Yours will have water jets spraying water into a koi pond. Won't that be wonderful?"

With a startling scream, Monique began bucking and thrashing about as best she could. "Leave me alone! Let me go. You can't do this! You can't! Let me go, let me go, let me go!"

Beatrice let go of the girl's hair, letting her flop to her side. Amused, the entire cadre of sadists watched the girl fling her head about as she thrashed and screamed in high tones. Finally, her energy spent, and realizing her thrashing was futile, she settled into relative quiet.

"Is that all you have?" Mia asked.

"You can't do this. Please. I'll do anything. Anything. Just don't do this to me," Monique sobbed.

"Perhaps…" Beatrice said, her voice trailing off.

"What?" the girl asked, raising her head from the carpet, hopeful of any other possibility. "Please, tell me. What?"

All eyes fell on the girl, watching her expressions and listening to her hope and fear. Lips were licked and legs crossed, each player in Francis' game enjoying the full effect of Beatrice's calculating and sadistic mind.

"You're an attractive lass," Beatrice said. "And you did say you would do anything. Hmmm, did you mean anything?"

"Yes," Monique said, desperately grasping at a possible escape from the just described horror. "Anything. Please, just don't turn me into a mermaid statue. Please. What do you want?"

"Well, I do need a slave," Beatrice said, offering hope to the girl.

"Yes, I'll be a slave."

"We all need slaves, I am sure. Perhaps you give us or show us - yes, show us, why you should be a slave and not a fountain," Beatrice offered. "Would you like to show us?"

Monique's eyes were wide and hopeful, despite her fear of Beatrice's offering. Bracing herself against what she knew would be terrible, she blurted out "Yes!" knowing any fate would be preferable to becoming a motionless object.

"Well then, we shall see," Beatrice said, filling the girl with hope and disgust. "Perhaps Francis will see his way to release you from your bondage. Please do cooperate, sweetheart. Don't be foolish enough to bolt for the door. It will only confirm your future."

As Beatrice's last words left her mouth, Desk was at the girl's feet, releasing her from her bonds.


Review This Story || Author: H. Dean
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