" "I want french-tip nails." I want a birthmark over my left ankle."Then things started getting more refined. "I want a 32" waist." "Iwant to be C-c...ps." "I want nude pantyhose." "I want frosted pinklipstick." "I want to look like I've just been waxed." "I want to bewavy and drop down between the shoulder blades." "I want to fit intosize 7 shoes." "I want to be the same color as the dress." "Me too." I want a pointed chin." "I want a vagina."Then I was in silence. I looked at myself. Funny thing, I didn't see red when I had heard what had happened to Janey. I saw nothing. I felt nothing. It was simply as if a switch had been flipped and the whole world had just stopped existing. My only thought was to avenge that innocent little girl's pain. It was the first time Sally had seen me cry, but I don't remember. I'll take her word for it.Sally calmly continued to say that the hospital staff was surprised that most of the blood on Janey had not been her own, but apparently was. She couldn’t wait for him to show. Her sweet pussy was getting moist just thinking of his arrival. The doorbell rang. She gasped more from excitement than shock. She rushed to the door, and for a moment stopped before opening it. She wanted him to wait just a while longer. Alison opened the door. There stood Mark in a dark three-piece white suit. It looked so great against his coal dark skin. She loved how he looked in suits, so tall, so muscular, so powerful and strong. She would have let him. The room they put him up in to recover was nicer than most resorts he’d been to! They checked his progress daily, and ran so many tests he grew tired of asking when they’d be done. Not that his days were empty, though. Veronyka brought their linguist, a dorky guy named Melvin, appropriately enough and their psychologist, Malcolm Brown several times so they could reconfigure his first implant to perform the way they needed. That part turned out not to be very difficult. He was already using it.