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A note from denkira7
Also at https://subscribestar.adult/posts/263087
GRAPHIC CONTENT WARNING
Taking away her hair seemed to only be the start for Elena. That pretty slut only had her looks to show for in this world. It would be “interesting” to see what was left of her if you took that away. At least that’s what Elena told herself. The 37 year old woman failed to see how much her deep insecurities about her own beauty played a factor in this course of action.
The surgeon’s field of work would certainly come in handy with her plans. Plans she never shared with her slave-sibling. Elena wanted to hit 4 birds with 2 stones. In Elena’s eyes, Lola never had anything of merit to say. It was only mundane, shallow things: fashion or stupid gossip of friends and celebrities, rinse and repeat. As for her actual voice, it was feminine and seductive, just the right kind of high pitch, but not too high. It’d be a pity if she couldn’t lure men in with her flirtatious laughter or more importantly, with words that made their imagination run wild.
Even muffled and gagged, Elena was getting tired of her sister’s annoying yapping. It would have to go.
The second thing that would go was Lola’s feet. Well, not all of them; Elena needed the bitch to be able to stand and walk. But the pretty parts, the attractive parts. Unlike Elena’s chubby toes, Lola’s were perfectly pedicured, slim, delicate. Lola had even gotten some cash for her “admired” feet. Elena hadn’t forgotten how bad she felt when Lola boasted about selling photos of her sexy feet to about a dozen guys online.
If only to confirm her thought process, cutting off her toes would drastically hinder the girl’s attempts at running away, should an opportunity ever arise. She “needed” to do this, to ensure her own freedom. Lola was not gonna like these alterations one bit, but that paid no factor in Elena's decision.
The young woman had gotten used to visiting the basement around night-time or whenever someone knocked on Elena’s door. This time nothing seemed to prompt her downstairs visit. Elena, with the cord/leash on one hand and the cattle prod on the other, guided the unclothed girl to the metal autopsy table. She secured each limb to the corners with handcuffs just like always. “MMmmmf?” Lola raised her head with furrowed brows, as soon as she saw her sister wheel a tank of sedative gas next to her table. “Hush, baldy” Elena said in the new derogative term she had for her sibling, whilst fixing an oxygen mask over the ballgagged woman’s face. She then turned the valve on the tank on and a hissing sound started coming from it. With Elena putting on her surgical coat, Lola only had a few seconds to search for her sister’s eyes, with her own full of fear and questions, before darkness took over.
8 hours later, when the anesthetic wore off, Lola woke up to an unpleasant surprise. A 2-inch long scar run across the front of her neck, with plenty of stitches to show for. Her vocal chords had been snapped off with a few careful motions of Elena’s scalpel. She still had the ball-gag on, but that was only because Elena had forgotten it behind her oxygen mask. It was only useful for aesthetic reasons from now on, or if Elena didn’t like her loyal subject trying to mouth words.
As for her dainty little toes, all 10 of them were floating inside a jar of preservative goo, on Elena’s basement counter. The ocean-blue polish on her toe-nails was visible through the glass. The front of each foot was now a smooth, albeit still bloody and bandaged, surface. It would look much better with time. Elena’s medical saw had worked wonders.
Elena was very happy with the procedure’s outcome. Her "improved" slave could now respect her peace while serving her, without silly notions of bolting towards escape. Upon coming to terms with her recent modifications, Lola let pathetic, mute whimpers, physically weak but emotionally wrecked. Looking inside her, Elena could not find any regret or compassion. Something scary to realize. Without saying a word, she got up and exited the room, leaving her deformed sister alone.
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