Mike got out the lamp and polished it for a moment. The genie appeared, and announced, "What is your wish, oh master?"
Mike gave me an evil, twisted smile. He said, "One moment. First things first. Dawna: you're asleep until I tell you otherwise." And with that, I felt myself falling, falling, falling...
Suddenly, I was awake again. But I was perfectly upright, as if I had been standing at attention. And then I quickly remembered all the horrors that had transpired over the last few hours, and tried to scream. Nothing came out - my mouth was plugged tight. Mike stood across from me, leering evilly.
How was I upright? I wiggled my shoulders and nothing happened. I looked up and saw a metal arch over my head. It continued around me in a loop - a thin steel circle about 2 meters in diameter, and 5 centimeters wide. Two metal rods about the length my arms had been, spread wide from my shoulders and ran outward to the metal ring. I jerked my shoulders as hard as i could, and the rods pivoted slightly. The ends were mounted in swivels.
Looking in the mirror, I saw why I couldn't move much. Similar metal rods, the length of my missing legs, spread wide from my hip sockets to the bottom of the ring. It was as if I was spread-eagle in the metal ring, but my limbs were replaced with useless metals rods.
Mike said, "We can't have all that wiggling. Let's shorten your torso a little to tighten you up."
And in an instant, my hips jerked tight and the shoulders locked straight and I would have screamed in pain if I could make any noise at all. It felt like there were 200 pounds weights hanging from each hip socket, stretching my limbless torso as tight as a banjo string. The only thing I could move was my head, and I wa terrified Mike would prevent me from moving that as well.
The bastard had made other changes as well. I now had six breasts, all F cups. Th top set was unusually high up, and the lower pairs were jammed tight underneath, so that the bottom set still didn't hide my navel. My waist was a little smaller, my curves a little shapelier, and my face! The fat breast that blocked my mouth was now INSIDE my mounth, forcing my jaws apart and bulging my cheeks out. Mike smiled again, "Well, I couldn't see your thick puffy lips the way it was before. Hmmm... maybe they need to be a little puffier." My bottom lip was as thick as a hot dog and my top lip was only a little thinner. And they were wrapped tight, tight, tight around the fat boob that completely filled my mouth to bursting. And the bastard made them even thicker!
I couldn't do anything. I couldn't move an inch, speak a word, touch any part of my body, or even close my lidless eyes. I couldn't even turn away from the mirror directly in front of me, showing me my wretched sex toy state.
And through all this I ached with the intense need for sex he'd programmed into me, but Mike still didn't touch me. He just stood there admiring the useless, helpless sex thing he'd made me into, perhaps thinking of other things he could do to me. How could I possibly escape? Who could possibly rescue me when no one even knew I existed? What was Mike going to do to me next?