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This is the second part of an intended chronicle detailing the works of a rather unpleasant man by the name of Jerry O’Connell. ( the first part being “The Object of His Affection”) Jerry is a physician, of sorts, who deals in the art of women, modifying them to suit the needs of his clients. He has a long and sordid history, which should be detailed in future installments. Some installments of this chronicle, such as this, will feature Jerry as a major character, while others will not. The storyline will, obviously, dictate this.
Before I continue, I must pay honors to Michael Moorcock, one of my favorite fantasy authors. It was from a series of books called “The Cornelius Chronicles” that I got the odd doctor’s name and the inspiration for the banner under which these stories will fit.
I will admit that this story is a bit of an experiment. Also, future installments will be a bit repetitive as I intend on making each one independent, so as not to lose new readers as I chronicle each “adventure”.
I also wish to thank “Banfann”, an author of absurdly excellent tales within this genre. His latest series “The Exposition of Modified Women” is one of great imagination. Before seeing this series I had imagined this tale to be quite long, and I was severely struggling with it. His display, that shorter can sometimes be better gave me the necessary mindset to present this as a short.
Finally, as this is an experiment, future installments will rely greatly on reader responses. I’ve no plan in beating this horse onward if it is dead, no matter how much I am enjoying its misery. That said, I present to you, dear reader, the second installment of “The Chronicles of Jerry O’Connell”.
One Man’s Art
Prologue:
The girl on the closed circuit monitor was beautiful. Her long auburn hair and flashing gray eyes gave way to a face of pristine innocence, coupled with fiery sexuality. She was one of those rare girls who had “It”. Her bust was full and proud, standing out from her chest at constant and full attention. Her slim waist gave way to robust and full hips, and led to long muscular legs, capped off by a posterior that seemed impossibly round and full. If an artist had depicted the perfect woman, it would have been her. Yet, she was here to be changed, modified forever.
Jerry broke his gaze from the monitor and thumbed the file at hand. A long time client had brought her in for modification. Clearly, this was to be another of his household treasures. Exactly what, he had no idea as yet. So it was that he departed his office and made his way to receive his guest.
“Francis, how are you?” Jerry issued as he cheerfully entered the client waiting room.
The girl was seated in a restraint chair beside a well-dressed man. She had been carefully bound arms, legs and head to the sturdy chair. A gag fit into her mouth, cutting off any possibility of speech. She watched, fearfully, as the men joined in discussion.
“I see you have another girl for us to work on for you. Though, I am curious what you could want this time. Your house must be full of our creations.”
Francis smiled, proffering a hand to the man in the white cravat. He had never seen Jerry fail to wear it and wondered if it were attached to him. “I’ve something a little different in mind, Jerry.”
“Let’s see, we have made a chair, a desk, a coffee table, a lamp…we even crafted a nice couch for you out of a couple of girls you brought in”, Jerry stated, reading from the contents of the manila folder he carried. “We are even making a statue for you. What else could you want?”
The girl’s eyes grew wide with Jerry’s utterances. She tugged at her bindings, her attempted screams issuing forth like a ragged voiced seagull.
“Art”, answered the man. “I have furniture, but no art for my wall.”
“She seems to be a work of art already”, Jerry replied. “What could you possibly have in mind?”
“Have a look”, Francis said, pulling a piece of paper from his coat pocket. “I want that.”
“This is quite an interesting drawing. Where do you intend on putting it?”
“It should go in my main room.” Francis responded. “Right in the middle, where it can be admired properly. Can you do it?”
“You’ll need to alter the room a bit. A piece like this needs a place to house the waste disposal unit and the other electrical equipment that goes with it. You will also need to be able to access it readily, to maintain it. It can be done, though”, Jerry said as he folded up the drawing and slipped it into his pocket.
Francis smiled, knowingly. “I’m way ahead of you, Jerry. I already have the plans drawn up and inspected. It should be ready in six weeks. How long do you think it will take you to finish it?”
“It’ll take a few months. The healing after the internal processing can be most time consuming”, Jerry told him. “Everyone heals in their own time, so I can’t be sure; except for allowing that it will take at least three months. Immobilization might be a problem…at least parts of it. Incidentally, do you want to allow any head movement or should that be immobilized, as well?”
More motion and muffled screams from the girl caught the men’s attention. Francis thought for a moment as his gaze met that of the frightened girl.
“I’ll leave that to you. I trust your judgment. I am certain that when you have finished, she will be an excellent piece of art.”
Jerry smiled at the man, offering his hand. “I’ll call you with the necessary measurements as soon as they are worked out.”
Chapter 1
The girl lay naked on the bed, arms and legs well restrained. She had given up screaming long since, figuring her best and only method of escape would be one of negotiation. The room in which she was housed was now empty, those who brought her in having left long ago. It was a well-lit room, cold and white, featureless but for the array of lights which shone brightly above her.
During her trip from the initial processing room to the room in which she now waited, she had observed several creations that were under process. A weeping girl with posts protruding from her shoulders had been fit with artificial limbs. Another was possessed of breasts that were far too large for her stature. Yet another had been molded as a statue, vulgarly servicing two satyrs.
She closed her eyes, concentrating on what she might say to whoever would listen. She would be calm, she told herself. Her argument would be rational and thoughtful. She would explain how she should not be turned into a piece of art. Her family had money; more money than most people dreamed of. She would bribe her captor with that. Should that fail, she could always offer some sort of sexual favor if they would only let her go. She would get out of her predicament…she had to.
Jerry’s entrance broke her from her thoughts. He was smiling, still wearing the white cravat she had seen him in some days before. She spoke behind her gag, hoping he would remove it. Understanding her garbled want he nodded his head and removed the gag.
“Please let me go. My parents have money…they can pay you more than what he is paying”, she begged.
Jerry smiled down at her, his face becoming sympathetic. “How old are you?”
“I’m eighteen. I just turned eighteen a month ago”, she said, her voice desperate, sad and fearful.
“Well, child…I am sorry for you. But it’s already decided. You are going to adorn his wall for the next…well, for a long time. Do you know what you are to be?”
She studied his face for a moment, noting the sympathy in his eyes. “No…no, I don’t”
“You are going to be cast in a frame. You will be the artwork it holds”, he told her.
“What do you mean…like a painting?” the girl asked, astounded at the notion.
“Quite…but more than a painting”, he replied. “I dare say you will become a most stunning piece of art, my dear.”
“I have money…my parents have money…whatever he’s paying you we can pay more! Please don’t do this”, she cried.
“It’s already done, my dear. You are going to be what you are going to be.”
Again, the girl pleaded. “What do you want? You can fuck me…I’ll blow you. Anything!”
“Quiet now, my dear”, Jerry shushed her. “Open you mouth so I can replace the gag.”
“Please”, she cried. “I’ll be quiet.”
“Don’t make this harder, my dear. Resistance is not going to make things any easier.”
Resigned to the fact that she had little choice in the matter, she relented.
Just then a man with glasses and clipboard entered the room. Like Jerry, and everyone else she had seen, he wore a white cravat. “What’s the plan, Jerry?”
“Artificial teeth – white” he started. “After that, a full internal processing; sterilization, redirect her urinary tract and the anal valve. Her breasts are fine, so we won’t make any changes there.”
The man was scribbling behind his clipboard, ignoring the girl as she screamed behind her gag, as Jerry spoke. “Anything else?”
“Yes”, he said, pulling Francis’ drawing from his pocket. “Have one of our artists draw this up on a large scale. I need measurements and solutions to whatever problems he thinks might arise. Also, I need suggestions as to the best way to accomplish this. Also, I don’t want her to be immobile…I want to allow for movement. I think it will set off the piece nicely if it has life.”
The man scurried off, taking the picture with him.
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