Listen To This Tape, Officer.

Interview Room 4
3rd Precinct
Milwaukee Police Department.

A portly female says, "Listen to this tape Officer..." - She presses the PLAY button. The Officer listens attentively to the young female voice coming from the machine –

- I made this tape so you will understand I had to kill Daddy – he was insane you see. I shall post it to a Rape Crisis Centre after Sarina and I are free. I hope you will bring those bastards listed in the diary to justice. And, please wish me luck in my search for a transplant doctor. I’m only human and so miss my orgasms.

I’m free now... Things didn’t go according to plan – not my darling Daddy’s plan anyway. He whistled happily, contemplating my impending operation, unaware of his fate…

My name is Dreamchild - That is the name Daddy used to promote me, and sell my body. I am nineteen years old. Dear Daddy presented prospective clients with a card containing a nude photograph of me with the caption:

”Introducing Dreamchild.
The prettiest, tightest, most willing Lolita ever.
Vital Statistics: 32 DD X 19 X 33 inches.
A pocket Venus, waiting to sate your sexual appetite.
Call 9099 385 669 Absolute discretion assured.”

Those cards were handed to eminent persons known to use prostitutes.

Dear Daddy had many dubious contacts...

From the age of nine I was a regular partner in acts of intercourse, and other sexually perverse practices. Often those were with dear Daddy, but mostly with numerous of his friends. They paid him handsomely for the privilege.

You see, when Mum died, he was able to realise his ambition. Having carefully planned his future, he moved us across the country to an isolated house outside Philadelphia. Every window was barred, and fitted with triple-glaze opaque glass. Ostensibly to retain privacy: It was to hide my existence. So far as anyone knew, he lived alone. To all but a chosen few I did not exist.

Apart from permanent imprisonment, my existence was good. I had a personal slave: A girl little older than myself, and fully committed to being bonded in slavery. My quarters were sumptuous, with Hi Fi, TV, Jacuzzi, and all other Mod Cons. I had full run of the house – apart from the Laboratory quarters. The only thing denied me was communication with the outside world. The doors were kept permanently locked to my slave Sarina and me. I existed to supply sexual pleasures for Daddy and his visitors. Unpleasant at first, I soon got used to it. Indeed, to be honest, I grew to look forward to it with great enthusiasm – until he mutilated me.

Daddy was a qualified Surgeon, but had been working as an Industrial Biological Chemist. Since moving house he worked for himself at home. Proceeds from my lovers financed his research and paid the bills. Those clients came only from the pillars of society – Bishops, Judges, Police Chiefs, Senators, and such. Daddy’s income was substantial, and his secret safe.

What he did in his Laboratory quarters was a mystery for a year or two. However, over time, I was able to put bits and snippets together, and a general picture of his activities emerged. That knowledge explained the comings and goings of the young females I occasionally witnessed. The goings was of a more sinister nature. Usually in trash bags taken away by the Police Chief - Sarina discovered that by chance.

Daddy aimed to develop a potent aphrodisiac, and a substance to vastly increase sexual stamina. He was also engaged in experiments on human mutation. I was aware that he was a genius - and also quite insane.

It was my own mutilation that fully alerted me to his ultimate goal: To supply desirable and ever-willing Cyborgs to wealthy clients. The package would include Cyborg, aphrodisiacs, and stamina pills. He informed me on my nineteenth birthday that in order to further his experiments he needed to perform a small operation on me.

“You possess an extremely desirable body, my Dreamchild.” He said. “You use it well to pay our bills and finance my research.” He’d fondled my breasts saying, “These are so beautiful. Sadly, as you age, they will lose this firm and rampant thrusting, and turn flabby and sag.” He kissed me and continued “Your petite waist will expand, your hips fatten, and bang goes our livelihood.” Suddenly angry he paced back and forth, and grasping his hair in both hands shouted to the ceiling, “It will not happen. I will not let it happen.”

He stood a moment, wringing his hands. A wild grin spread over his features as he moved to stand before me. I was assured at that point that he was quite insane. He returned to sanity for a moment, and chatted like a loving father, “My little Dreamchild, you will not grow old. Never will you lose your desirability. I shall give you the power to orgasm endlessly, and share your sexual desires forever. You are perfection now - and will ever remain so.”

He held my arm tenderly, “Come with me. See for yourself. Feast your eyes on your future - Your future, and that of mankind.” Fearful, and yet curious, I let him lead me into his sacred laboratory quarters for the first time. Before I realised it, I’d complied with his wishes and held my arm for him to insert a hypodermic needle. A haze enveloped me. In a dream I was aware he had arranged me on his operating slab.

As from a distance his voice impinged on my brain, “Soon my Dreamchild, you will be immortal. You will not age; you will be forever beautiful.” As he prepared me to operate, he explained, “Just one little operation for now, and later you will be transformed into perfection, and live in a state of perpetual ecstasy.” His voice trailed off into blackness…

I awoke in the Lab some while later. Dearest Daddy was stooped at an operating table next to me. He was totally engrossed in performing surgery on the genital area of what appeared to be a human Barbie Doll. It was then I became aware of some pain in my own genital area. That part of me was covered in bandages, and I had a catheter coming from it to a bag at my side. My breasts were sore and bandaged too.

Later I found that he had removed my clitoris; complete with its internal appendages, my labia, and surrounding vulva. He had also removed the sensitive nerve system from my nipples and breasts. The cosmetic repair operation on me was performed with the greatest of skills. It detracted in no way from male pleasure, but left me a sexual cabbage – a mere penis receptacle. I have endured that for over six months: Six months in which I planned my revenge…

It was only when full realisation of his intentions became apparent, that I plotted to escape. When my chance came this morning I took it, and vented my pent up wrath.

I was taking a shower. Sensing I was not alone, I stepped out of the shower to listen at the open door. I knew it could not be Sarina. She would be kneeling at the foot of my bed, awaiting my summons. Neither Hell nor high water would move her from that spot. With leaping heart I thought maybe - just maybe - I was going to get my chance…

Sure enough, dear Daddy had returned: I heard his footsteps entering the kitchen. I kept the shower running, and retrieved a small syringe I had acquired some months ago. I tiptoed silently towards my quarry. He was making Camp Coffee – he always drank that - and he never knew what hit him…

As he eyed the emptied syringe and staggered, I screamed at him, “That’s fucking curare you bastard.” As he laid gasping, spectacles awry, in my anger, I taunted him, “I diluted it so I could watch you squirm and plead, you fucking pervert. It will take a minute or so to start working, then the paralysis will set in.” He stared in horror and started to beg and plead. “Fuck you, Pigface. You will need to do more than beg, if you want the antidote.”

He made to grab me in desperation; I moved quickly back and laughed “I have it hidden, you bastard. You have about thirty seconds to open your Lab and get on your operating table.” He hesitated, and I laughed again, “Just about twenty seconds now, dear Daddy, then Sarina will have to drag you in.” He suddenly galvanised into action, scrambling on all fours to the laboratory door. Straightening, to punch in the code, he dived through and up onto the metal slab. He lay on his back with arms and legs thrashing wildly, pleading for me to give him the antidote.

“ It’s not in here you stupid Prick, lay down and I’ll strap you on. Once you get it you are likely to do yourself an injury.” I cut in on his pleading - “First you make me a promise.” “Anything, anything, just get it.” He screeched. I pointed, “First the straps.” He co-operated like it was a sex-session. I jerked them painfully tight, securing each hand and foot. I grinned as I secured first the thigh strap, then the one across his chest. “Stop your stupid screaming. It was only tap water in the syringe you idiot. Where would I get any curare?” I laughed louder as his fear turned to a raging anger, and I gloated at his futile struggling.

Gradually he quietened, and adopted a conciliatory tone. He expressed his unbounded love for me, promising he would give me anything and everything, saying everything he had done was for me.

I snapped at him consumed with hate and anger, “So, breaking me in as a nine-year-old was for MY benefit was it? Fucking me front and back, night after night was meant to make ME feel great was it?” I spat in his face, “Your perverted friends pulling and biting my tits, and ramming their filthy Pricks in my arse and front was for MY benefit was it? – You perverted, rotten, cretin. Now it’s MY turn to do something for YOU, Daddy. To show how much I love YOU.”

I looked around me. He started his pleading again. I smashed my fist against his mouth and shut him up. It hurt my hand like hell, but the pain gave me immense pleasure. My eyes found what I had been searching for. I grasped a scalpel. For a moment I searched again, and removed a small cork from a bottle: What I had in mind required a shallow cut. I impaled the cork on the blade, covering all but the tip. Moving to his chest, I started making an incision.

His screams would have wakened Methuselah. I ceased laughing to say menacingly, “Just one more sound my darling Daddy, and I will gag you with your own Prick and testicles.” I made a move towards his genitals. The agonising scream he’d started emitting he cut short in a choked swallow. Blood gushed from his bitten lips. I returned to my task, working with diligence and gusto. Cutting and peeling, I flayed in large letters across his chest, FUCK PIG. I stepped back and admired the oozing bared flesh, whilst I thought of my next move…

“How much cash have you got dear Daddy? I mean EVERY cent?” There was a little hesitation. “I – about a hundred twenty thousand dollars.” “Where?” I snapped. “There’s about sixty thousand in the safe in the corner. Let me free and you can have it all.” “Fuck you. What’s the combination?” I moved to grab his genitals. The combination was yelled at me, “F, F, six, nine, six, nine.”

I moved over and checked the safe out. It contained a large quantity of cash, and a series of files. A random perusal of those revealed details of his experiments. Absorbed, I read more. He was building a female Cyborg. Her sole purpose would be to provide sexual pleasure to either males or females.

The ‘Barbie’ I had seen was an amalgam of machinery, electronics, and suitable body parts - taken from several females. Those included: MY clitoris parts being inserted in what he termed an Afro Asian Preteen Pubic. My nipples and breasts’ sensory nerves had been inserted into what he described as; De-melaninized breasts of East African female aged sixteen. There was more, much more.

The final step was to have been the transfer of my brain into that monstrosity this very afternoon. Any hope of pity I may have had a flicker of departed.

There was also a diary listing names, addresses, and phone numbers of each of my clients, together with appointments and fees. I suddenly knew what I was going to do: I hollered out loudly for Sarina. She came with alacrity and bowed head. The fact we were in the Laboratory, or where Master lay was of no concern.

“Yes Mistress? How may I serve you Mistress?”

I instructed her, “Go down on Master.” She did so immediately. I spoke to Daddy. “I am going to release your left hand, and provide you with pen and paper. You will write as I dictate.” To my slave I commanded, “Sarina, just get him hard and keep him hard. DON’T let him shoot off.” “No Mistress. Just as you command, Mistress.” Sarina returned to her task.

I released Daddy’s left hand, presented a clear page torn from the diary, and told him to write that he had suffered a small heart attack. In the event of his death, it was his wish that his estate in its entirety was handed to Sarina Kepalla, his live-in companion. I had him sign it, and add the date. It puzzled him, but he did as instructed. I placed it in an envelope, had him seal and sign it, and then placed it in the safe, slamming it closed.

I re-strapped Daddy’s arm, and checked how Sarina was getting on. I got a length of suture nylon and stood ready. “Now get Master ready to shoot, just using your hand, Sarina.” As she did so, I awaited the instant Daddy was most rampant. Just before he ejaculated, I swiftly bound the nylon tightly about the base. It started to cut in, so I grabbed some tape and bound it round as tightly as possible.

His knob strained, and turned purple. I could see his lower parts jerking to ejaculate in vain. His screaming excited me. I pulled his head-strap over, clamping it tight. Pulling the cork from the scalpel I cut his penis off at the base, and instructed Sarina to force the bulging gored mass down his throat. I assisted by forcing Daddy’s jaws wide open.

Having completed her task, I bid Sarina to take a needle and nylon, “Stitch up Master’s mouth now Sarina.” Without hesitation Sarina replied, “Certainly Mistress.” She started with care, I grabbed the needle from her impatiently, and showed her to use large stitches, and pull the flesh really tight. “Yes Mistress. Sorry Mistress. Like this Mistress?” I nodded approval as she made the blood fly.

Pure fear radiated from behind dear Daddy’s tear-filled eyes. For some reason, that upset me, so I slashed the scalpel across each eyeball. The way they burst and deflated thrilled me. Daddy looked better after that. Once she’d finished, I took Sarina’s hand; for a moment I enjoyed kissing her passionately, and savoured the pleasures of her sensuous response. Collecting the diary and Daddy’s keys, I led Sarina to the laboratory door.

Everything had become crystal clear. I knew exactly what I was going to do. Leaving Sarina for a moment, I turned on a Bunsen burner. I lit it and tipped it over. Taking Sarina’s hand I led her out, closing the lab door behind me.

I gave the keys and one thousand dollars to Sarina, and instructed her to go and purchase a cheap car, and bring it around the back. Though she had not been outside in over three years, she didn’t hesitate…

That was an hour ago. My nose is already burning from the acrid smoke. The fire is doing its job. Thankfully the safe is fireproof. My clients will certify the note it contains is genuine. With the cash we have, and what Sarina gets from the estate, and insurance - and with what I can blackmail out of my previous visitors - we shall start our life anew, in comfort.

I have to leave now. Sarina has returned, and I want to find a doctor to replace my clitoris – Oh God! How I crave an orgasm... the fire has spread to the roof, and Daddy will have fried by now. I’m so happy - he was insane you see, quite insane…

In Interview Room 4, 3rd Precinct, Milwaukee Police Department, as the tape stopped, a hush fell…

In a private clinic in Switzerland, at just that time, Dreamchild was saying, “Here is the thirty thousand, in US dollars as agreed Doctor. Sarina, pass Doctor the briefcase.”

“Whatever you wish, Mistress.”

Dreamchild indicated her slave – “And this is Sarina, Doctor. She is my Donor. Isn’t that so Sarina?”

“Whatever you wish, Mistress.”

“Just follow the nurse, Sarina.”

“Whatever you wish Mistress…”