Martin came to known as the artist. With streams of articulately crafted computer code. he would expertly design the most beautiful women the world had ever seen. Brave and rugged service agents would go into the capsule and
his wonderful latex-clad sculptures would come out. Even the harsh blonde woman. Ms. Williams. looked upon him with awe as he manipulated DNA like putty to create his army of vixens.
But it wasn ‘t enough. not for Martin. For all the perceived perfection he created, he was still unable to come close to the ideal image of beauty that girated in his head. on his screensaver and in his dreams. Bianca Beauchamp. Of course Ms. Williams would never allow him to make her. To create another version of an already existing woman would be highly unethical, not to mention dangerous.
But with every rubber goddess that came out of that capsule. Martin ‘s urge to do so anyway grew ever more insatiable. It was six months into his three year contract that he took the first step and he secretly had a custom made pvc catsuit produced using measurements he got from computer modeling pictures of Bianca. After that. step two was inevitable and over the next month he lovingly recreated Bianca Beauchamp in computer code. slaving over every single last detail to make sure she was flawless. It was during this time that Martin came to the realisation that if was ever going to complete his plan. he would have to transform himself into Bianca since there was no way Ms. Williams would ever authorise it as an official project.
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It was 5am and Martin crept over to his workstation completely naked holding the latex catsuit in one hand. He checked the clock and noted he would have about two hours to spend as his dream girl. He readied the DNA profile in the software and set a thirty second countdown before scurrying into the pod. His breath shortened in anticipation as a digital display showed the countdown from five. On zero the entire chamber flashed white and Martin was thrown into the air. hot energy surged from every pore his body and he felt like he was being turned inside out. Finally. just as it was becoming unbearable. it stopped and Martin was dumped heavily to the floor. Feeling weak and groggy. he brought his hands to his face…woah!! His soft flabby cheeks had been replaced with firm cheekbones and he could feel locks of hair flowing down the sides of his face. lnstictively he pressed his full glossy lips together and brought his hands down to his brand new round tits. gripping them tightly in triumph. It
worked! ! Over the next ten minutes he struggled into the catsuit. leaving rubber burns from the latex on his designer ass. Allowing the zipper to rest just below his perky globes. he exited the capsule…
Well. well. welL..’ snapped a furious looking Ms. Williams. ‘What has the artist created this time?’