He doesn't maintenance where they come from or who they were. They drop off a male body, and the client's order with half of the agreed sum in silver bars. Then the doc gets to work, no names, no questions.

The MD was excited ; it had been a while since he had a surgery this challenging. Despite the small room the MD had to work with, the equipment in the way was easily worth more than the full apartment coordination compound the makeshift functioning room was held in.

The doctor looked for non-existing line on the terminal slice of the artificial peel on her forehead. This was one of the more unique eccentric of skins used, a character of constituent flesh colored silicon, giving the look and flavour of a dame. This type of peel supported twice the amount of nerve endings of normal homo peel. Under the tegument, there were extra sebaceous secretory organ to secrete oil onto the pelt when pheromones are picked up to allow for an anele latex feel for extra sex appeal. All of the affected role's cutis had been painstakingly replaced section by section, as removing all of it at once would prove to be fatal.

Her closed eyes twinkled like the nighttime sky, the doctor's hands brushed against her painted eyelids, the nighttime, cosmic ash grey undisturbed from his feeling. He had blended the powder of various metal and alloys into the delicate cutis of the eyelid until the color was just right. His fingers stroked her pitch blackness, featherlike eyelashes, naturally replete and curved as if mascara had just been applied. The doctor gently forced an eye open, revealing a shimmering, emerald blue iris. He allowed himself to look up to his work before inspecting the coal black course tattooed around the edge of her eye. His fingers followed the shape of the feminine typeface to her delicious red back talk. The medico's bluing latex glove met with her rubber lips, always plump, always glossy, its scarlet hue unyielding. Everything was permanent, good.

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The doc moved to the bosom to examine their advance. He massaged the DD sized boob, working his way from the firm pliant chest to the pinko nipple he spent sidereal day crafting. He touched the growing teat gently, admiring just how much was going on underneath the supersensitised clump of stilted flesh. The doctor's vociferation of obligation was sensitive breasts, but he liked to push himself further. He especially liked the orders where there were no speed limit for him ; he could truly express his creativity applying a mix of science and art. This was one of those orders. He pinched the grippy teat as the oddment of his digit felt the modified milk secreter inside her breasts. The doctor was pleased that the mamilla was solid and addictive to bring with, but he still was still not satisfied. The replacement of all the milk glands with Skene's allowed her to cum through her bosom. The doctor felt a slight throbbing in between his fingerbreadth, and knew that he had succeeded. The nipple ejected cum, soiling the doctor's blue surgical gloves. The MD had a triumphant grin knowing that the weeks of messy cheek rewiring had paid off.

Though she had lost the ability to lactate, her chest had the potential to make more cum than a normal vagina on an medium fair sex. Her breasts were wired to produce cum indefinitely in the replaced milk gland, signals imitating the one sent after accouchement. The cum would likely swell her breasts to an E cup before spilling from her nipple. From the Dr.'s calculations, she would own to have her breasts cum every day or so to preclude an outpouring. The MD cleaned the spill around her chest, and to his pleasant surprise had to clean the second untouched mammilla as well. The doctor scribbled with excitement in his note of hand before continuing his examination.

The doctor was renowned in the art of crafting vaginas that would get the most dysfunctional man to cum prematurely. But what the doctor was about to stimulate even impressed himself, despite all of the breathtaking pieces he had created before. rumor has it that one of his firearm has been known to cause blackouts and possible cardiac arrest should the substance abuser have a washy pump. The woman disappeared shortly afterwards, though there had been an increasing measure of powerful figures succumbing to heart and soul fire. The pelt for the vagina was the sum of his experimentation with hypersensitised skin, optimized through years of extermination on hundreds of specimens. The doctor had found the optimal zone in between pain in the ass and pleasure.

Everything in her new sex had been expertly crafted by the doctor, save the ovaries ; she would only go fraught only if her master desired it. She would have geological period, and could even grow a baby inside her womb should a inseminate egg be inserted within her. Her vagina looks perfectly convention on the outside, but the inside was the Dr.'s Sistine chapel. He was very gifted in his art, but after so many geezerhood of innovation, he was left with little room to improve. This orderliness had him flustered as he could easily enforce one of the many designs which has made him renowned, but they were old and stale to him. He was going to implement a lot of the perfected authoritative designs, but he needed something new to hit this one unique. It was rare that he was allowed to freely create, and he did not wish to waste this opportunity by photocopying his premature pieces.

The physician wondered if he was if he was losing his creative spark, or if he was just getting old - or maybe both. He was despairing, but he couldn't do anything but feel lost flipping through late night TV display on his sofa. That was until the shark workweek special gave him the divine guidance he needed. He would make multiple g-spots in the shape of a shark's gills out of cartilage, ten amount, five on each side of the vaginal wall. The Dr. beamed while he attacked his notepad. They were to extend outwards when blood fills the vagina, pointing downwards towards the opening. They were to bring extremum pleasure to the user, and possibly stimulate a meltdown in thinker of the vagina's owner.

The Doctor of the Church brought himself back to the job at hand, his fingers spread her moist labia. The doctor breached her modified Hymen, made to grow back within twelve hours. He swirled his digit around the country just before the array of g-spots, the brain activity monitoring device rapidly scaled out to fit the huge capitulum it had to expose. The doctor became excited as he continued to his chef-d'oeuvre, he could feel the Gills ( named for G-spot gills ) erect. The Dr. continued to advertize, until the gill inversed, power point into her womb, causing her unconscious mind dead body to instantly come to an orgasm. He continued his finger through the remaining four sets of gills, the new brain natural process levels made the previous look like a monotonous product line. If the Doctor didn't apply the anesthetic himself, he would not get believed that this miss was under from the way she was convulsing from the intense orgasm. The Doctor of the Church removed his finger swiftly, causing all of the Gills to turn back to their original lieu, the sudden removal of his finger stimulated all the lamella, causing another clap of fluids. Her dead body stayed in a filter arch for several seconds twitching, before slowly lowering back onto the steel tabular array.

The tightness and the way the gills held onto his finger turned the Doctor of the Church on, he could only imagine how a phallus would just melt inside his chef-d'oeuvre. The doctor was tempted to yield it a test run, to satisfy his raging manhood, but this was the hardest piece of his job. Even though he knew the Hymen would grow back, and there was no evidence, he had to remain a professional. He had always thought of making one for himself, but he realized that he would continuously discard them when he came up with new techniques for his art. The Doctor sighed at his predicament, and went on to test her clitoris. The sixteen thousand face termination in her clit were expertly coiled and weaved amplifying virtuoso to inconceivable horizontal surface. The doctor pressed on her clit like an elevator button, turning her aftershocks into another full-of-the-moon blown orgasm. The medico was pleased.

Regretfully, the doctor's examination was coming to an end. He began the preparations for her recuperation. The Doctor inserted a shiny sinister latex catheter, into the newly formed urine duct. He knew that she will be kept under until she was completely healed. The latex tube hung out of her vagina like a svelte tail. The doctor picked up the underground inflated the balloon inside her bladder with a special cock, securing the catheter until he decides to free it. The Doctor pulled the red latex electrical outlet plug from the end of the tube, and attached the catheter to a tube leading to a urine bag.

The doctor unpacked the fresh pink lingerie ; the seductive sound of sliding the melt off pantie up her soft peg aroused the MD beyond the limits of a normal man. The catheter came out from the incline of the pink panties. adjacent, he took the bra, wrapping it around her unconscious body, tucking toilsome breasts into its cups was always a pleasure for the doctor. He took her hands, with a atomic number 47 manicure, placing them over her pierced navel- a subtle trailing twist, anchored to her uterus ; removal would prove quite painful. Finally, he slipped her delicacy feet into a couplet of program heels. Perfect.

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The doctor turned off the lights, but did not leave the room. He admired the outline of her face that he crafted for her. The bender, long slender ramification, her copious bust, his prefect endowment to her. The physician had not felt a connection like this to his creative activity for a foresighted time now. He went up to her and kissed her on the cheek in the wickedness. He made sure the full body mirror positioned correctly side by side to the bed, he wanted his patient to admire his study when she awoke.

"slumber tight, my girl. ”