That night seemed to be a night without end. I was fucked in the arse, in the cunt, in the mouth. I lost count of how many men had me. There were women to, Marta, and the girl with the black hair. But there were many more. All the time the camera’s filmed me. There were breaks, but they were few and far between. I had needed to pee, a fat guy lay on the floor, his mouth open his cock hard as I relieved myself into his waiting mouth. Then it was morning. I was sore. I ached. My legs ached. My back ached. My jaw ached. My arse was sore. My cunt was sore. Marta led me to the kitchen, we were both naked, but for our shoes, our stiletto heels, which echoed on the wooded floor. I drank the glass of water she poured for me. Then drank another. “Enjoy yourself Beatrice?” Marta asked.I smiled at her. “I did, don’t ask me why, but I did. But now I feel dirty, I need a shower.”“I know what you mean. But first, you need to meet Boris.” Marta said.“Boris? Which one was Boris?” I asked.Marta. We left Charlie franticly fabricating away. She said that we had basically bought up her time for most of the day, just running the machines to take care of our order. I don't think she was unhappy about that, I would guess very few people came in and ordered a whole new set of clothing. Usually they could make do with what they had, or get most items off the shelves and modify them.As we headed into town proper, I was a little more nervous, as I didn't have my coat, so my arms were uncovered. Earlier my brain had still been fuzzy from the hangover, so I hadn't really been aware enough to feel self-conscious. Then in the shop, most people had at least some differences, so I hadn't felt too exposed. Now we were out in the main thoroughfare, it was a lot busier, and I was feeling just a tad anxious.I tried to conceal my new arms somehow, make them appear as just one set by careful arrangement and standing close to my mother and sister.Alice, eyeing my attempts to make my arms look more.
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