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The fluorescent lights of the late night pharmacy hum with a sterile energy, but the atmosphere in Aisle 4 shifts instantly as the automatic doors slide open. The squeak of rubber soles on linoleum is drowned out by the distinctive, metallic click clank of a chain dragging across the floor.

Sarah enters. But the Sarah who once cried over Billy's transformation is dead. In her place stands a polished, hyper sexualized monument to submission. Her body has been transformed through months of hormonal therapy and obsessive gym routines designed to maximize her appeal to men her waist is impossibly narrow, her hips flared into dramatic curves, and her breasts have been enhanced to a stage of heavy, bouncing perfection.

She wears nothing but a micro black string bikini that leaves absolutely nothing to the imagination. The thin straps dig into her tanned skin, framing her enormous ass and cleavage. Around her neck sits a thick black leather collar, attached to a heavy steel chain that stretches taut across the aisle.

At the other end of the leash walks Daddy. He moves with the casual confidence of a king walking through his own territory. His hand holds the leash with a lazy grip, occasionally giving it a sharp tug to remind Sarah exactly who owns every inch of her transformed flesh.

"Daddy~" Sarah coos, her voice now identical to Billy's high pitched, breathy, and utterly devoid of critical thought. "Can we get the extra large ones~? The ones Daddy likes~"

She doesn't look at the shelves with interest; she looks at them with the hunger of a starving animal. Her eyes dart to the boxes of condoms with a glazed, desperate longing. The old Sarah would have been scandalized by this display; this Sarah is embarrassed by anything that isn't a display of her own availability.

"Hurry up, slut," Daddy rumbles, his voice sending visible shivers down Sarah's spine. "I don't have all night to wait for you to choose."

"Yes, Daddy~ sorry, Daddy~" Sarah whimpers, immediately dropping to her knees on the cold tile to reach the lower shelves. Her enormous ass jiggles violently with the movement, the string bikini disappearing between her cheeks as she scrambles to grab several boxes. "I'll be quick~ I promise~ I just want to get home so Daddy can use me~"

As she stands back up, clutching the boxes to her chest like sacred offerings, she catches her reflection in the security mirror. She sees the collar, the leash, the exposed flesh, and the empty, blissful expression on her face. A small, proud smile tugs at her lips. She isn't a person with rights anymore; she's a cocksexual object with a purpose. And God, she has never been happier.