CHAPTER 1

Rachel sat on her bed with her back against the headboard as a stern man stood before her. He was tall and lean and possessed an opposing dome of a head that glared when light fell upon it. His eyes were shadowed amidst deep sockets but she could still see his beady whites scanning her body. He bit a pursed lip and glanced down at her skirt and the whiteness of her panties peaking out underneath. She was not permitted to close her legs. He raised his eyes to Rachel's face and with a sly smile drove home the dire reality of the poor girl's situation. The anxious tapping of his finger against a phone in his hand echoed off the walls. She looked back at him nervously with sweat on her nose, hoping he wouldn't dare to dial that number again. Her underwear had already been subjected to a series of floods already.

"Are you done with her yet?" asked a commanding voice from the doorway. A morbidly fat man walked into the room panting heavily, no doubt because the effort of walking through the door had been strenuous for him. He was gargantuan, the largest human Rachel had ever seen. He glossed his eyes over her apartment, eying the stylish modern furniture and breathing in as he took in the incredible view from her penthouse balcony. He would have liked the place better were it not in such disarray from being tossed by his goons. The possibilities of what he could do with his newly acquired girl passed through his mind as he stroked his goatee with two plump fingers. She and her apartment belonged to him now; a painful realization for Rachel to accept.

"She won't be ready until tomorrow. We should let her settle for a bit while the cipher goes to work. Leave her alone to brood and work up an appetite, then she'll be a dynamo." clicked the bald man as his skinny arm passed the phone to the fat man. The fat man passed his lecherous eyes over Rachel's silky legs, eyeing the sinful wetness that trickled down the insides of her thighs. He smiled at her and pressed a button on the phone.

Within an instant a spark dropped down Rachel's spine and exploded in her crotch. She yelped through clenched teeth and bucked her lithe hips. Through tightly shut eyes she could hear the bubbling of her own box expounding her pleasure, and she watched carefully constructed images passing under their lids. The images were bright and vivid and they were manipulating her thoughts, penetrating her mind through the greens of her eyes.

"I live to serve you, I am yours to command." she grimaced, trying to fight the pleasure that sizzled at the tips of her hairs and crackled at her fingertips. She fought off the urge to say more, but her defences were weakened against the fat man and his special phone.

"What else?" he chuckled. He licked his lips as he stood beside the bed. He'd soon have a fine prize. He brushed the dark hair away from her cheeks so he could see the conflict apparent in her face.

Rachel again grimaced and fought him, using every iota of moral and intellectual stamina she could dispose of, but it was no use.

"I - live to - fu - fuck you." she stuttered as her thoughts argued with each other and with her jaw.

"That's a good girl." he approved.

"Fuck - you." she repeated.

"Yes that's right, you live to fuck me." he laughed.

"No - idiot - fuck you!" she sneered, fighting his spell and grinning mischievously. Her world tipped on its side as she lay her head down on the mattress with exhaustion. The fat man was unimpressed, and glared at the thin bald man who had just exploded in a quiet fit of muffled laughter at his latest project's disobedience. The fat man then jammed his chubby finger back down on the phone. Rachel's mouth was forced open by an explosive howl as again another bomb was dropped in her panties. The pool of wetness grew into an ocean in the bottom of her underwear as she clenched her fists, trying to avoid the temptation to reach down and relieve herself.

"Why doesn't she get herself off or anything? That's what we programmed isn't it? Where is the hunger? Where is the inescapable tension?" asked the fat man to the skinny man.

"Don't worry, she's feeling it." the skinny man confirmed. The fat man was still confused. The skinny man rolled his eyes and then began to speak, no doubt explaining the technique for the umpteenth time tonight.

"Because she's fighting it. We just fitted her with the cipher, it won't be fully effective until tomorrow, after that - it's all she'll want to do." he shrugged.

"Well what's the fun in this now then? Come on let's go. If she's going to be screaming and hollering all night I don't want the bitch around. Leave one of the men here to guard her."

"Not to worry not to worry." the skinny man called. Their two voices were fading as they retreated down the hallway of the apartment complex, away from her door and back out into the night. Before they were out of earshot she heard the most painful words she had ever heard.

"We've taken care of the husband, sent him over a bridge in his car."

They laughed and disappeared. Rachel was alone and left moaning and wheezing on the bed. The blinking metal pod gripping the nape of her neck went on with its job of twisting her mind into something more suitable for the fat man's purposes. I don't want it to end this way, please not this way. She knew the slut they were making her into wasn't the end. This was being done to her for a purpose. They wanted her to do something for them, but she didn't know what it was, nor did she think they cared what she thought.

She had overheard a conversation about an unfaithful Senator, but that was the extent of her knowledge.

"AH!' she gasped. The fat man had used his phone again. More images flashed before her eyes as she looked around her tossed and tattered apartment. She could see herself bent over her office chair, lying on the floor or pressed against one of the walls with someone, a complete stranger, deep inside of her. It was turning her on. Fight it Rachel. Come on now you can do this! But she still saw those things. She saw the jumbled papers strewn about her scratched hardwood floors flying while she squirmed wildly on her back. In her hallucination there was a man, whom she did not know, giving her a taste of his pole and groping her chest. A vision of my future?

Creeping up on her from the back of her mind was a horniness that began to poison every thought process, every memory and every desire she had. She tried desperately to block it out as it grew stronger. Think happy thoughts Rachel. Grab onto a memory and hold on to it for all its worth. Fight this! I know you can do it Rachel you just have to try!

Her self-coaching helped. Before long she conjured the image of herself and her husband at the beach enjoying a picnic. The day was sunny and the breeze from the ocean was cool. They held each other's hands and enjoyed the view while she nuzzled her head against his shoulder. Her ran a finger through her flowing raven coloured hair. Memories of his pleasant smile and his warm hands and his affectionate disposition were all anchors for her to hold on to. There was a peaceful serenity about the whole scene that helped her calm her nerves, even while the cipher attached to her head tried to fray them. Think happy thoughts Rachel. Go to a place where you felt loved and calm. Good, now stay there and fight the machine. Way to go girl you can do this! Just keep thinking-

The memory faded into blackness. She had no idea that it was gone when it disappeared, because she didn't remember it. The cipher was going through her head and suppressing her former personality one thought at a time in a systematic fashion. It hid her former self under a blanket of sexually charged impulses and dirty tendencies. It was going to make her the fat man's number one girl. Please Rachel don't quit, I know you can do this. Come on Rachel don't quit! He's not dead; I know he'll come. John will be here soon he WILL be here soon.

There was once a man in her life that was now being slowly erased. She loved his dark brown hair and the way it was cut short. I'm going to miss that. She conjured an image of her beau in her mind, hoping to cling to it like a sailor might to the bow of a sinking ship. With every passing second the water rose just a little higher. She locked her gaze upon those imaginary blue eyes of his. Please John hurry. Please come save me, I don't want to turn into a slut, I just want sex - no, no not that. Oh god please hurry John, I want you. I want you to use me, to make me your toy. NO! Don't think like that Rachel; be strong! I want you John, I need you to love me. That's it girl, just keep thinking like that and you'll win out. Remember his love, that's your strong suit! That wretched pod can't stand shit like that!

She clenched her teeth tight as another euphoric discharge of her own bliss inundated her senses. The shiny metal pod on the nape of her neck gave her yet another taste of the fat man's sweet candy. Somewhere near her apartment he was cackling to himself as he wantonly pushed the button on his phone over and over and over.

"Oh god!" she howled, "More please!" No I did not just say that! Fight it! Fight it with all your strength Rachel you can do this! "I live to serve you, and I'm yours to command. I'll listen and obey just like a good girl should." her controlled mind asserted. It was easier this time, and as the words came and grew stronger in her thoughts so too did the rhythmic gyrations of her private womanhood.

"Oh god please give me more." she whispered against her own will. A hand was slinking across her chest, rubbing the two bulging masses of her breasts trapped underneath her nightshirt. She pulled tightly at one of the spaghetti straps, hoping to release herself. No don't do it! Just lay still! I must remember my husband; I must keep is image in my mind. I need to cling to something familiar. I need to remember my husband... oh god. What is his name? Oh my! I have to touch them, they need to taste open air, and oh this shirt is so uncomfortable!

SNAP

The strap broke and a plush breast fell out of the shirt's grasp and settled heavily into her armpit. She picked it up with her right hand and let her fingers sink sensuously into the soft flesh. She kneaded it softly, letting her index finger snap back on forth across her pulsing nipple. Each pass was like receiving a shock of euphoria as the metal pod on the nape of her neck rewarded her for every indulgent touch.

The sluttier she was, the more it encouraged her.

The more it encouraged her, the more she liked what she was becoming.

Don't let it do this to you Rachel! Fight it! She fought her hands for control, but she was of two minds. One mind told her to remember the good times and to hang on to the past so that she might hold out against the future. The other half was growing larger, and was enticing her to move her dainty fingers down over the lips of her wet box.

Her hand drifted secretly down to her thighs, lifting the black skirt up around her hips. She lightly fondled her panties, massaging the inflamed bulb hiding near her hole. As the involuntary masturbations progressed she peeled the fabric away. She held her breath as her fingers plied her soaked flesh, firmly rubbing back and forth across the swollen nub of her clitoris. The metal pod on her neck clicked again, and a smile spread across her cheeks as pure bliss washed over her. Blissful ignorance. Her husband was fading away, replaced by images not of people, but of the sexual act itself. No longer would it matter to Rachel who she was with or if she was with someone at all so long as she was feeling that incredible carnal pleasure. Oh god that feels so good, oh god... oh god, more please. Give me more.

"Hah!" she gasped as she plucked herself like a guitar chord. Her fingers slinked underneath the lips of her box and she arched herself off the mattress as the tension began to mount. I have to stop touching myself, it only makes it worse! Stop it! Fight it! Don't give in! Remem - oh uh. Oh god I need something better than these fingers.

She rolled across the mattress, the sticky sound of her sweat following her as the bed sheets stuck to her body. Her one wayward breast flopped and wobbled in complaint as her tireless hand released its sticky grasp and reached to the bedside table. Inside was a vibrator and it growled to life under the pressing of her thumb.

She went slowly at first and teased the outside of her pussy with the trembling rod. The slow burning pleasure in her gut grew stronger and her thoughts became solely focused on the task at hand. She poked the tip of the vibrator into her clit, and then began to thrust. She pulled up on every withdrawal to strike herself in the most pleasant way she could.

"I'm a slut!" she howled. [No stop saying that!] "A whore!" I can't control myself! Try to remember Rachel, something - anything! Don't let it take you. Happy thoughts remember? Happy thoughts - oh what's the use; it feels too good to resist. Mmmm, yes that's it girl, use your hands like that! Make your body work for you! Nuh - NO! Stop!

"God I wish I had a cock." she moaned.

No stop please stop! Ughnnnnn...

"EI!" she yelped as she struck the vibrator across her sweet spot. Concentrate, remember him - remember -what was his name? I wish I could remember his face, I wish I knew his name. Take control of your fucking hands, stop them from doing this!

The cipher clicked greedily, feeding off the surging energy of her body, reinforcing every indecent act she made. It's calculating intelligence making her into a single minded drone; a toy.

"UH - hah!" she gasped. She held her breath and let it out in forceful puffs. Her hand continued under the control of her slutty alter ego. She continued her downward spiral and transformation into a submissive bimbo, the plying of her vagina supplying the power needed for her burgeoning sexual slavery. She tried to move her hand, but she was locked in a cycle as the reinforcement of her self-pleasuring drew her closer to the edge.

Think of something you like. Think of a hobby or a place. Come one Rachel you can think of something you like, you're not licked yet! Think hard now...SEX! No don't think that. Think of something else. Please for the love of god tell yourself something else! I wish someone was with me now, I wish I was having sex. I wish someone would take control of me and use me! I wish there was someone here to use me, to make me their toy. Oh - I want to be a toy! Yes it makes sense now, that is my purpose. It is why I was born, things have always been this way. I must do what the tell me to do! This is what they want me to be, I shall obey. Is this never-ending need my leash?

She began to despair as her own thoughts betrayed her. Tears flowed down her cheeks as she bucked under the shocking effects of an orgasm. The hairs on her neck fizzled with excitement and the weightless feeling of lost tension erupted from within. She lay back against her pillow as the orgasmic fuse burned down, leaving her calm and content. Her loose breast swayed lazily against the shifting movements of her body begging for a hand to pay it attention.

She licked her wet fingers, tasting herself for the first time, feeling relaxed as the cipher on her neck rewarded her for such 'wonderful' behaviour. It clicked triumphantly as it won the battle over her will.

"I'm a slut, a whore, and I'm all yours." She repeated huskily. There was no sign of combat, no sign of resistance in those words, only acceptance.

"And I love what I am."

She slept at ease with who she now was. Her ship was sunk. Yet in the back of her mind, out of her reach for now, something remained.