Satisfaction Guaranteed

500 watchers.  Really.  Outstanding you guys.  I’m so humbled by all the appreciation of my work.

This one is based on a simple idea that, many times, women have a part of themselves they’re dissatisfied with.  I don’t know why.  I see all women as beautiful.  Still, this exists.

Carlie looked at her feet again, disgusted by how big they were.  She wasn’t that big herself, 5 feet 4 inches, but her feet were too big for her.  She felt like she was always hitting the ground way, way too hard.  If she could, she’d fix it so her feet fit her size better.

As she walked later that day, she saw something that captured her attention immediately  — a body tailor shop.  Body Tailor?  Curious, she approached the shop and opened the door.  She thought it might have just been a euphemism for plastic surgery, knowing it was basically reshaping bodies.  But as she went in, she didn’t see any kind of medical posters, no front desk, not even a clipboard for new patients.  Instead, it simply had a list of parts on the wall.  Not products, but parts.

Thighs, hips, breasts, hair and feet.  All were on that list.  Much more was on there as well.  What was this place? “Uh, hello?”

A voice from in back called out, “Be right with you.”

A moment later, a man emerged from the curtain.  He looked at her, then held the curtain open. “Come on back.”

Accepting the invitation without question, Carlie stepped through to a series of shelves.  On these shelves were various sizes of boxes, labeled with body parts. “Go ahead, look around.”

Carlie hesitated a moment, then opened a box labeled “hands.” She opened it and found a pair of hands with long fingers and painted nails.  They were twiddling the thumbs.  She looked at the man, then inside the box, then back at the man. “What…?”

He smiled. “Touch them.”

Carlie did so, and the hands reacted, but she felt the realistic skin on them, felt it give, felt it squish down.  They also felt warm. “Uh, is this real?”

The man nodded with a smile. “Yes, all these parts are donations, parts from other women after they are satisfied with what parts get replaced.”

“Replaced?”

The man gestured to the boxes around. “Yes.  I was a stage magician years ago, but realized, as I worked with my assistants, that many women have parts of themselves they’re dissatisfied with.  One of my old assistants volunteered to be the first one, wanting to do something more.  She became the first donor, and I made another woman’s life much easier when I placed her parts on her.”

As Carlie understood, she started looking around and found a few boxes labeled “feet.” That was her fixation.

She opened some of them, looking at the twitching toes and moving feet, until she found a pair she liked. “What would it cost to get these?”

The man smiled again and gave her a price.  She decided it was worth it. “Okay, take off your shoes and get in the chair.”

Carlie did so, then stretched her legs out as he directed.  She hesitated a moment before he took out what looked like a sharp sword, then sliced through her ankles.  No pain, no blood.  Her feet were simply chopped off.  He picked up, one at a time, the feet she chose and pressed them lightly against her ankle stumps.

She felt it immediately, the connection to the new feet.  Strangely, they felt already like they were hers, nobody else’s.  She brought one ankle up, thinking she’d see some irregularity, some seam, but there wasn’t any.  The man noticed this. “I’m not sure why, but when an unknown part is attached, the body it’s attached to immediately is ready for it.  Even clothes, like your shoes, will fit no matter what.”

Carlie experimentally stood.  No problem.  Her body had adapted to the new feet as if she were born with them.  She smiled. “What else can we do?”

As they walked around, Carlie knew she’d be coming back.

And she did.  Over the next few weeks, Carlie replaced her legs a part at a time, finding the perfect fit of both athleticism and attraction.  Her arms were next, as was her middle section.  She left her breasts alone; they were already perfect according to her.  Sometimes she switched one replacement for another, each time feeling better.  She’d replaced her legs and torso, becoming taller, and replaced her arms with appropriately lengthened ones. 

She wasn’t sure, during that time, if she really was doing it to become the person she always dreamed of or if she had become addicted to having parts of her cut off.  She found it a pleasurable experience, being cut apart.  It felt especially good when he cut her in half at her waist.

And it was much cheaper than plastic surgery, and knowing that it wasn’t artificial, it was all hers.  Finally satisfied she had the body she’d always dreamed of, she started thinking about her face and hair.  It took a few tries, but she found the nose, the eyes, the ears and the hair she felt completely satisfied with.

The magician commented after all this that Carlie was his best customer.  As she looked in the mirror, loving the woman she’d turned into, he informed her she had, in fact, made 500 changes. “500?”

Yes, but finally, as she walked out that last time, she truly was satisfied.  She’d become the woman she was always wanting to be, the one she wanted to see her entire life.