at the bottom and the top. Once the twin set of lips were spread, Daisy’s vagina began looking like a flower for the first time in her life.

Unfortunately, the flesh didn’t react exactly like plants did, especially not against gravity. In order to increase the turgency of those meat petals, the doctors inserted chirurgical plastic wires, molded in the shape of the outline of the completed petals under the freshly cut tissue. The artificial wire frame, very thin, flexible and sturdy, became all but invisible once inside her flesh, and would keep the split labia always in their proper position, opened and inviting, resting against the skin of her thighs.
A small set of powerful rare earth magnet locks inside the very tips of each petal would connect the wires and make possible for the flower to be closed if anyone so desired. The effect of such a flower opening would be very powerful, and the Directorate members wanted to experience it in full. What did the petals protect while closed, though? That would be solved by the next stage.

After resting for awhile, the surgeons returned to the operating table for the more difficult procedure of that day. Using a laparoscopy toolset, they penetrated into her uterine cavity from her bellybutton, searching for the ligaments that held her womb in place. After all, what was a flower without an ovary?

With expert precision, they found the pubocervical, transverse and uterosacral ligament pairs, and cut them one by one, destroying the anchors that kept her baby oven in place. When the last set of ligaments was excised, they looked in wonder at how Daisy’s womb suddenly loosened like a puppet with its strings severed. Using a small set of forceps, they grabbed the cervical ring and tugged with care, reversing the now floppy vaginal walls like a sock with incredible ease, exposing the cervix to the outside for the first time.

With a small additional effort, the doctors prolapsed Daisy’s womb completely, almost three inches outside of her body, creating the perfect ovary for her vaginal flower. Using the same hole opened in the bellybutton, they inserted a synthetic surgical mesh that was normally used to repair that kind of damage. In this instance, though, it would serve to keep the womb out instead. Anchoring the mesh strongly to the pelvic floor in multiple places, they ensured that the uterus would never go back to its proper location, no matter the kind of force applied, and that the extended blood vessels and nerves would not suffer damage in the process.

That last addition had been a request from Anthony himself. He wanted to keep fucking little Daisy’s snatch, but not ruin its new appearance in the slightest in the process. What they had done, in the end, had been to extend her fuckhole outside her body. With proper stretching training for her cervix, anyone would be able to fuck Daisy’s uterus directly without fear of the prolapse returning into her body, although the obsessed girl would have to learn how to live with such a sensitive organ forever dangling between her shapely legs.

The space that had been vacated by her uterus was planned to be filled by her bladder. Usually, women’s bladders were smaller due to the genital tract taking space. Now that the womb and vagina were out of the way, the bladder would have room to stretch until it reached, and surpassed, the size of a man’s. A set of progressively larger water balloons were prepared to be inserted through her urethra, past her sphincter, and then inflated to capacity. In a short time, the progressive stretching would make the piss reservoir grow, increasing the number of kinky entertainments in Daisy’s arsenal, and reinforcing the blockade of the surgical mesh.

There was still one operation to be performed down there, but the little girl’s genitals had suffered too much abuse in one sitting, and they didn’t want to risk her life any longer. Therefore, the last procedure and, by far, the most delicate one, the modification of her clit, would have to wait until she was fully healed. That would give it time to grow further, and they were going to need every last ounce of extra flesh for such a radical operation to have a chance to succeed.
repec 19-Aug-16 13:38 # 6692 Up to top Down to bottom
For the first few chapter, it wasn't impressive. But now, I'm amazed. It became a great story to my interests!
Keep up the good work!
Anonymous 25-Aug-16 21:07 # 6772 Up to top Down to bottom
More! :)
repec 19-Nov-16 12:11 # 7782 Up to top Down to bottom
bump!
We need more of this!
Falquian 24-Nov-16 01:38 # 7863 Up to top Down to bottom
Chapter 9

Daisy spent the rest of that day and the next one asleep in bed while the most grievous damage of the operation healed. After she woke up, extremely sore but very excited, she fell into a small depression when she was told that she would have to wait almost a month to see the results. In the end, it would amount to a week bedded and three weeks of frustrating recovery with her cunt hidden inside a bandaged codpiece, denying her the glorious view of her dream came true. She compensated for the wait by making ample use of her asshole and mouth, setting new girth and length records for herself on a weekly basis.

Only the doctors were allowed to see the recovery rate of her cunt whenever they applied the pertinent cures and, to the relief of the whole household, it seemed like she was healing nicely and without scars thanks to the regenerative power of the very young people and the ability of the best surgeons available.

The day that the doctors had scheduled to clear her, a party was arranged by Anthony. It had balloons, confetti, cakes, the whole package, and everything was flower shaped. That evening, everyone reunited in the luxurious ball room, decorated for the occasion, and stood around little Daisy. The girl, ecstatic to be the centre of attention and on the verge of madness due to the wait, sit down in a gyno chair where Mike, the helpful surgeon that had monitored the whole process, began unwrapping the bandages and the protective codpiece.

Everyone held their breath when Mike removed the last bandage, and everyone saw at last what Daisy’s nethers had been hiding all that time.

The circular crown of eight sepals made with the flesh of Daisy’s outer lips, skin toned on the outside, pink in the inside, framed the cocoon formed by the four, bigger petals created with the flesh of her inner lips. The cocoon was closed, the four meat flaps fitting together into a perfect ovoid. Tears streaming freely down her face, Daisy reached for her cunt flower, that she had been feeling for one whole month, but had been unable to touch, and inserted a delicate finger between them to peel the ‘petals’ away.

Once forced to separate, the invisible magnet locks released their hold on the flesh and the plastic wires forced the folds to open slowly, revealing the soft, floppy tube of meat that was her prolapsed vagina, and the long stem above that was her elongated clit.

“It’s so beautiful” Daisy cried at the sight of her cunt flower opening for the first time.

“It is, indeed” echoed Anthony, while the rest of the people nodded their assent.

“You fulfilled your promise” she said, hugging Anthony and kissing him passionately.

That was it, the deal had been completed. If at any moment Daisy had harbored any thoughts of escaping despite the risks, those thoughts had been obliterated by the miracle unfolding between her legs. For that unrivaled gift, she would be his for the rest of her life.

After that solemn moment passed, everyone cheered and clapped to her successful modification, and the party began in full.

All the people wanted to feel for themselves the touch and texture of the flower, and Daisy’s cunt was poked and manipulated unmercifully. The petals were wet and velvety soft, while the prolapsed vagina was a rubbery hose of flesh that was a delight to squeeze and tug, prompting a powerful masochistic induced orgasm and a clear discharge from her cervix each time it was so handled. Everyone present had a chance to lick, taste, bit, tug, twist, pinch or just fondle her bizarrely modified genitalia, and the preteen soon felt like floating above the clouds, so was her high from the undiluted adoration and the pleasure chemicals flooding her brain.

The naked people ate till their bellies were full, danced till their feet ached, and fucked till all their holes were sore, all night long. Daisy even tried her new cervical hole, inserting some thin soda straws up the tight orifice. It would be some time before she could accept Anthony’s cock inside her womb, but she was determined to get to that point as soon as possible.

Nonetheless, there were still modifications left to do and, although she would never tire from playing with her meat flower, the following days marked her return to the routine. A routine that had been significantly changed, as some elements were kept, some discarded, some modified and some added.

The newly scheduled bladder training, for example, became the worst part of the day for Daisy until she accustomed to it. Four times a day, before proceeding to each of the daily clitoral treatments, Bethany would insert a deflated balloon through her raw urethra, with the help of abundant doses of lubricant, and then inflate it inside her bladder until she begged her to stop.

After having reached her apparent bursting point, the relentless maid would keep squeezing the inflation bulb until the poor girl screamed in pain, in order to slowly increase her limits. The amount of pressure was so tremendous that it created a small mound above her pelvis, making the child look like three months pregnant, but Bethany knew very well Daisy’s capacity and she never came close of rupturing something important.

Only when she had the balloon changed was she allowed pissing and then, as soon as she finished, the flexible device was reinserted again. The result was that she always spent day and night with the overwhelming need to pee, punctuated by the four bursts of excruciating bladder inflation sessions, and was never able to find true relief. The torture was not without purpose, though, as the continuous cycle of micro-tearing and healing of the bladder musculature was slowly increasing its capacity.

Thankfully, as the Directorate had planned, linking the inflations with the clit massage sessions afterwards had finally had an effect on her psyche. The powerful orgasms that always generated when her oversized appendage was being treated mixed with the pain of her abused bladder until she linked those two sensations in her mind. From that moment on, the aches of her loins tingled in sympathy alongside her clitoris, and she came to reclassify that excruciating sensation of being full to the brim and then a little more as pleasurable.

And that was just one of the changes in the routines. Her clit regime of DHT crème, vacuum pumping and coconut oil had been supplemented with injections all over its length of Nerve Growth Factor, in order to drastically increase the number of nerve endings and ramifications. The end result was that the already sensitive organ became triply so, and sometimes even the slightest touch was enough to make Daisy cum. It got so bad that she had to resort more than once to hide the hypersensitive organ inside the labia petal cocoon if she didn’t want to become a mindless blob of orgasms trashing on the floor.

Her nipples kept growing steadily atop her still undeveloped breasts thanks to the pumping and banding sessions, and became easily an inch long and two inches wide when erect, which was almost always. It was an impressive feat for such a flat chested gal, and they became a point of focus for the maids, that liked to suck or whip them equally, depending on their daily mood shifts.

All that activity consumed so much time from everyone that, without anyone really noticing, another year passed and Daisy was ready for the final stage of her flowery modification.

Chapter 10

Having reached fifteen, Daisy had started to show subtle behavioral changes. Even if her hormonal cycle was strictly controlled and her body would never grow past twelve, her brain kept maturing, and she became more conscious of her self-image. It wasn’t long before she asked for makeup and Anthony granted her wish, albeit in a very permanent way.

Megan, the black haired scarred maid, was an expert tattoo artist, having done Krista’s beautiful green scale pattern years ago. It was she who was tasked with Daisy’s makeup, which was going to be permanently inked on her skin. That course of action had been suggested by Anthony and wholeheartedly supported by the teen, which was glad to, at least, save the time needed to apply and retouch the makeup daily. With a schedule so tight, every moment wasted was a moment that could have been used in better ways, like having sex.

In a meager three sessions, Daisy found herself with a permanent dark eyeliner and grayish brown eye shadow that spoke of sexiness without being trashy. The dark outline made her almond, honey brown eyes even more piercing if possible, conveying a very seductive look if she lowered her eyelids.

Her lips had been tattooed with a very deep red, so intense that it always looked like she had lip gloss applied, and looked bigger than ever thanks to the artistic sense of Megan, who had expanded their contour with subtlety and dexterity. In the end Daisy’s kissers became moist, inviting and always slightly opened, an erotic delight to the sight and the touch.

Having started on the road of tattooing, Daisy decided to keep going and fix one aspect of her cunt flower that had been vexing her since almost the beginning. The petals, coming from her rose colored inner lips were basically the right color for a flower. The sepals and ovary, coming from her outer lips and vagina, needed some proper tinting in her opinion.

Therefore, after having had her permanent makeup applied, she scheduled another session with Megan to have her cunt done, to the amusement of all the manor staff. After the maid had her way with her, Daisy showed everyone the green colored prolapse and outer lips, proud of the way she had handled a process so painful without anesthesia, even if she had had to bite a gag and cry a river while such sensitive parts of her anatomy were repeatedly stabbed by the tattoo gun.

If she hadn’t known what was in store for her clit, she would have probably colored it too. However, the surgeons had been summoned again because her boy cock sized clit was at last ready for the last procedure and any further esthetic change would have to wait until it was done.

The frequent sessions of DHT application, vacuum pumping and Nerve Growth Factor injections not only had made the organ grow grotesquely, they had also changed its tisular composition in an important way. The nerve endings and blood capillaries had grown and branched profusely, increasing the sensitivity to painful levels, but also creating a network of additional connections that the surgeons could use to operate on the clitoris without it losing sensitivity or suffering necrosis due to lack of irrigation.
As Daisy was lying unconscious on the operation bed for the second time, the head surgeon positioned his precision instrumentality above her flowery cunt and prepared to operate.

That operation had needed months of planning and research beforehand. The surgeons had analyzed the multiple 3D tomographies and radioactive contrast scanners taken of her altered genitals, mapping with millimetric precision the position of each and every ligament, blood vessel and nerve of her clit.

It was no surprise then that the neurosurgeon assigned for that operation had memorized exactly where to cut, where to graft nerves and vessels, where to cauterize and where to suture. Aided by robotic arms that demultiplied his movements, he was able to make incisions that would have been impossible for his pulse alone. He began by cutting the suspensory ligaments of the clitoris, allowing it to fall floppily an additional inch outside the vagina. Then, slowly but methodically, he began to split the tube of meat into the two long appendages that would make the stamens completing Daisy’s flower.

That idea was not originally Daisy’s, but something a member of the directorate, a gardening aficionado, had proposed to the team of doctors. Considered unfeasible at the beginning due to the small size of the clit, risking necrosis if so divided, the compromise was reached to make it grow as much as possible to increase the odds of success of the transformation.

Armed with the knowledge of multiple computer simulations of Daisy’s clit inner anatomy, the neurosurgeon moved with determination excising flesh, rerouting nerves, cauterizing capillaries and stitching carefully the wounds he was creating. The task was horrendously complicated due to the dorsal nerve of the clit having only two branches, which limited the division to just two parts (Daisy and that crazed botanist would have liked at least four, but such were the limits of current medical technology). Even then, nerve grafts had to be used at some points to ensure proper innervation.
Finally, in the same way they had done with the labia, small plastic wires molded to the desired length and curvature were inserted straight into the two long and, then thin, clitoris pieces, guiding the ‘stamens’ to the sides of the prolapsed green vagina serving as the ovary.

Thanks to that, Daisy’s split clitoris would always remain erect and turgid, crowning the increasingly loose hole of her cervix, the pair of glans slightly curved to the inside in salute to the life giving organ. When it was finally healed, new injections of Nerve Growth Factor and DHT would restore in time the nerve endings and blood vessels to normal, making each stamen as sensitive as her clit had been originally before beginning the treatment. Nobody was really sure of how the brain would process the new information coming from her mauled organ, but everyone was eager to know, beginning from the man that had used his tools to divide it. For science, it was understood.

Like the first operation recovery period had been handled, Daisy wasn’t allowed to see or use her cunt until it was again completely healed, which gave Anthony and the maids another excuse to throw a party the day the flower was again unveiled. For her part, Daisy spent that time reacquainting herself with her asshole, throat, and other sensual parts that had been neglected in favor of her prolapsed womb.

Even if she was having trouble cataloguing the sensations that radiated from her healing clitoris, her active imagination was helping her brain to remap its connections and separating slowly the sensations coming from each individual clitoris piece. She became sure that, once she had access to her twin clits again, she would quickly learn to differentiate them by intense and frequent manipulation.

However, the most important thing, the thought that filled her brain day and night, giving her peace of mind at last, was this: “I’m finally complete”

Epilogue

The unveiling of her clit stamens carried the same symbolical weight that her flower opening for the first time had had. Once the labia petals parted again and everyone saw the finished mod, sighs of envy, shouts of admiration and lustful stares made Daisy literally beam at the attention received. The twin clits had healed very nicely, without a trace of scar thanks to the incredible ability of the surgeons, and now stood proudly by the sides of her green tinted prolapse. Two cylindrical rigid sticks a quarter of an inch wide and four inches long, engorged with arousal, pulsating at the tune of her heartbeat, with a protuberance on top made by the bisected glans.

Her ‘dad’, unable to resist the temptation, unfastened his pants and positioned his cock at the entrance of her womb, her cock head kissing the inviting opening. Daisy was in heaven, panting with anticipation but, as Anthony breached her cervix with his cock for the first time in front of everyone, she dedicated one last thought to the life she had abandoned for that bliss, looking for any sign of regret.

She didn’t found any. That decision taken three years ago had proved to be the best one, so she dumped the memory of her parents, friends and home into the trash bin of the childhood memories. It was nostalgia without sadness, nothing else.

Quickly returning to the present, she cried ecstatically at how Anthony’s tool scraped the lining of her womb, compressing it while entering and stretching it while leaving, but never pushing it inside of her body again, thanks to the surgical mesh and the volume of her expanded bladder blocking the access.

The maids joined the party cheerfully, one kissing her mouth, another one tonguing her asshole and the other two attacking her cookie shaped nipples. Orgasm after orgasm wrecked the body of the teenager forever trapped inside the body of a child, erasing the last traces of the thoughts that had given her pause before. Those people were her true family, her dad and husband, moms and sisters.

It was a pity that she would never have children of her own but, just as Anthony had recruited her, she hoped that a fresh member of the Daphne Directorate would look at her someday with the same look she then had for her new father, a look of filial love, of carnal love.

After a week, Megan tattooed her twin clits green, with the glans transitioning to white, completing the color scheme of her cunt flower. Thanks to the long coexistence with the maids, she had grown to the idea of the human body as a canvas so, during the following year, Daisy also scarified her whole flat breasts with a motif of interlocking petals around her nipples. Megan herself was the one that removed carefully the small strips of skin that would later heal as keloids, creating a raised lattice of pink textured scars that framed beautifully her cookie shaped teats.

She didn’t stop there, though. Tattoos of vines crept from her ankles, all around her legs and up to her pelvis, making it seem that her cunt flower was growing from the incredibly realistic vegetable drawings. From her wrists, more vines filled her arms surrounding them up to her shoulders, decorated with small flowers carved from her skin to create relief and tattooed in bright hues of pink and white.

Apart from finishing her modifications, her training never really ended, although it suffered many changes. Gone were the pumping sessions, and the aggressive chemical treatments, replaced by a regime of hormones designed to safely maintain her in her childish body. Her stretching exercises continued, though, until her cervix was comfortably pliable and her ass was able to house two adult arms up the elbow.

The beautiful rosebud created by her prolapsed rectum after any particularly intense session became the subject of many afternoon chats, everyone giving ideas to follow on the flowery theme. A suggestion by Milly, the heavily pierced maid, was slowly gaining traction. It involved using piercings to decorate the prolapse and keep it outside her body at all times, and Daisy promised that she would consider it very carefully.

Also, she finally managed to fit Anthony’s cock in her urethra, taking advantage of her bladder astounding capacity to fill it with multitude of toys, vibrator devices and the like, increasing her pleasure as well as Anthony’s. That she became functionally incontinent because of the speedy stretching regime didn’t bother her in the slightest. The yellowish trickle of urine that never stopped flowing from her abused piss hole made her flower look always shiny and fresh, as if it was coated in morning dew. Besides, whenever she became really bothered by that, she could always plug her urethra with one of her many toys and manage to last up to three days without removing it, thanks to her incredible bladder capacity and fondness for that ‘ready to burst’ feeling.

Her voyage into the world of depravity continued unabated, familiarizing herself with every kind of perversion imaginable, until no sexual practice was taboo for her. As Anthony had predicted, the multitude of videos before, during and after her transformation became legendary within the Directorate, giving her a lot of prestige inside the society. When she learned that the kill switch on the ring had been a clever lie to keep her in check, she merely laughed at her own ingenuity, never for an instant thinking about abandoning them.

Sex still occupied a large chunk of her day, be it producing content for the society or for her own amusement in her free time. However, her studying schedule had been replaced by her work as one of their computer engineers, using state of the art technology to track candidates for the Directorate, multiplying their economic resources and hiding everything from the clutches of law enforcement. Working from her specially made seat, which had a conveniently placed padded hole for her cunt flower, her genius level ability made her one of the most precious assets of the secret society in the years to come.

In a bout of sadistic humor, when she turned eighteen she even decided to pay a visit to her old parents to see how they were faring. From the darkened windows of a Directorate limo, she saw her parents leaving the house holding hands with a little girl of four. The analysis of their behavior from surveillance and newspapers told Daisy that she hadn’t been forgotten, and that they still looked for her, even after all those years. Nonetheless, it lifted a weight from her chest seeing them happily pampering her replacement little sister, so she wished all the best for them in the years to come. She would even talk to the upper echelons of the Directorate to see if their good fortune could be increased somehow. Maybe a winner lottery ticket or a high end job for her dad. The Daphne Directorate could do that and more.

In fact, the sight of her young sister, so pure and innocent, like she had been before that damned explanation from her mother, ignited an unnatural fire in her loins. While she fondled her always exposed cunt flower, playing with the petals and tugging on the stamens, she thought in the many ways a girl like her sister could be corrupted.

THE END