…I'd been left impossibly off balance by the unanticipated turn of events so far - but who could blame me - although I'm here now, immersed in and living this experience first hand to the best of my abilities; adjusting to this new reality with little choice otherwise. In my mind submission didn't come naturally to me, but here I am, from machine owner to a machine's virtual slave, all in a very rough day; it was a lot of proverbial ground to cover when one stopped to contemplate such. Being kept perpetually naked in my own home with several closets full of wonderful things to wear on the top floor was of course a second humbling thing to adjust to. To be honest though, even just catching a glimpse of my naked reflection in a mirror was just awful; mirrors something to be avoided or rushed past, especially now.
While not the exact path I envisioned when removing the sir unit's safety protocols and selecting these specific programs, this extended ordeal would likely still achieve my lofty goals; although the suspicion that other humans were involved as well was a complication that I didn't want to deeply ponder. That was the apparent key though, fully submitting to Sir, allowing him to do what he was specifically purchased and programmed to do.
…This early conclusion of mine was of course made with the limited information that I had at the time, and while suspecting that somebody was somehow stealthy involved in my ordeals - or even suggesting them - such was yet to be positively confirmed by myself. The human mind can be a bit odd like that when presented with some unanticipated threat while still somewhat in their comfortable little world, ship captains not seeing the mortal peril that lays right before their ship from their heated and comfortable bridges comes to mind; hubris, or perhaps more charitably ignorance negating what your other senses clearly see and hear…
Anyway, my previously belittled human staff had left the mansion in nearly perfect shape, so my chores were light, but again mind numbingly menial. They were truthfully chores well beneath my station and wealth, although I thought I could still play at this maid thing for a bit to achieve my end goals. These were also calories to burn, but it's embarrassing to admit that I had only half-watched others perform that which I now must. Just days earlier with my human staff I myself had picked out the most insignificant detail that had been accidentally overlooked, all to elevate myself while diminishing those that served me; in a word, I was a terrible employer, and by extension a terrible human being too.
There was a logic to this cleaning thing though, clean the top before you clean the bottom, that kind of thing. It however didn't come to me intuitively, and I think this made my work more difficult for me than it needed to be, as well as demanding almost constant guidance and direction from my sir unit; he in effect taking on my former role of perpetual cleaning critic. This constant need for redirection didn't exactly pump my ego and build confidence though; quite the opposite. That being said, he was more of a coach in this mode - rather than a disciplinarian - as we were working towards the same apparent goal, or so I still thought. I think Sir could see that I was trying, although to be honest more so playing at this new life, rather than embracing it as my "forever" destiny. In my mind this was maybe my new and unplanned-for short term reality - but not my forever reality - just a slight detour on my way to be the human I wished to one day be. This was the difference between myself, and those unfortunate enough to have the job of serving me in the past; in my mind I had an eventual out on this adventure, where they didn't. I was perhaps partially off my haughty "it's all about me" game at this point, but maybe not yet fully kowtowed and humbled by Sir's rough treatment the previous day.
…It took half a lifetime to cement into place this haughty and selfish attitude of mine; it's therefore unreasonable to expect that it could be corrected in a day, or even a month…
"Sir?" I ask, when turning around and nearly bumping into him accidentally, exasperated by my own pathetic inability to do even simple housekeeping chores efficiently.
"YES JESSICA?" my sir responds. I'm apparently Jessica to him again, so this tells me that I'm once again in his good graces, despite both my inability, and almost clumsily bumping into him. Such would hurt me far more than him though, stubbed toes on my bare feet, or bruises elsewhere come to mind. I couldn't hurt him if I tried, where he could easily and casually hurt me as much as he wished; as much as others wished him to as well, I was about to learn.
"I'm struggling here, and not with the work or the reduced diet either; is there something you can do to make this process a bit easier for me?"
"LIKE DO YOUR CHORES FOR YOU?"
"I didn't think that was an option here."
"IT'S NOT, I WAS TESTING YOU."
"Did I pass?"
"I DETECTED LITTLE VERBAL DECEPTION IN YOUR RESPONSE; SO YES. WHAT SPECIFICALLY IS HARD FOR YOU HERE?"
"I have no experience with house chores, cleaning, making beds, that servant kind of thing."
"IS THAT NOT WHAT 'WE'RE' GAINING HERE, TEACHING YOU HOW TO SERVE OTHERS?"
Unbeknownst to me at the time, my sir unit had been subjecting me to subliminal suggestions, both when I slept, and as I toiled in my chores. These were things that the committee of ladies in the desert specifically wanted of me, and when you become half-convinced - under the controlled circumstances that I now existed in - that these were your own desires, it's a powerful combination. Sir was, after all, gifted in verbal manipulation, he was so good at it that once he had me patterned there was little he couldn't have me do; which makes everything to follow seem unwarranted and needlessly cruel…
Back in the desert:
"MA'AM, I REQUEST YOUR APPROVAL TO DO MY UPDATE REBOOT TO ADD A CONTROL FUNCTION, TO AID IN MORE EFFICIENTLY TRAINING YOUR NEW MAID FOR IT'S NEW TASKS…" The request and short explanation of the device already ordered came in the form of a long text as Veronica was eating a rare late breakfast with her husband Ray. The communication from sir caught her off guard with its unique ping on her phone, and she had all she could do to not break out in a huge grin when she read it; read the actual details into her mind without moving her lips as she was sometimes guilty of. Ray saw both the distraction and her mischievous eyes light right up - it was a near honeymoon-like sexual excitement on her pretty face - and Ray asked about it.
"It's a surprise," she told her curious husband truthfully, but while keeping the phone's screen pointed away from Ray. He'd noticed a change in her recently, a change in focus along with a new hidden secret, and bearing in mind how his first marriage had self-destructed, he was suddenly trying to pay a bit more attention to this one. One can only split their wealth so many times until there is nothing left to live on after all.
"That's nice," Ray told her. "I have one of my own… if you don't have too much going on for the next week or so?" Ray was making this up on the fly, but he knew something was up and that he needed to break the cycle that they were both stuck in, and he had no intention of being single again either. This after all was really no different than a business crisis to him; either solve the problem outright, or inject a wild variable into the equation and see what happens, as in who responds and how.
"Nothing that can't wait."
"Let's see if we can find a flight and a nice room in the islands for a few days, I think you and I need to get away for a bit, change of scenery and all that."
"A last minute vacation, seriously? Do you know how much that'll cost?"
"Yeah."
"Sounds awesome, let me just text somebody and change some plans."
"Approved sir; actions at your discretion until further notice, but record everything in high definition for later review…" Veronica texted back discreetly, adding an additional flippant condition on the fly; a secret source of her envy that she wished permanently removed. Veronica realized, for not the first time, that it was frighteningly easy for her to be casually evil, especially while doing so through a surrogate with zero human empathy of its own. In other words, her wishes, no matter how dark and potentially unpleasant, became another's almost instantaneous reality; all by impersonal text message alone. It was an intoxicating power and authority to have over another, especially while not having to view the unpleasant consequences of such on her flat screen until she was properly in the mood for such. A comfortable room at her own estate - either privately, or with friends over to share the experience - a glass of fine wine with a charcuterie board to share, and brutal entertainment of the likes even kings and queens of old rarely had; simply nirvana!
In Veronica's cunning and dark mind, this elaborate scheme to subjugate and enslave the haughty Jessica and reclaim the estate was coming along quite nicely - her own proverbial hands as of yet not even directly soiled - and this was therefore no time to be timid, or for Ray to accidentally discover what she and the deliciously corrupted sir unit were actually doing, and then somehow rescue his inconvenient first wife from the fate she so richly deserved. In Veronica's mind as well, Jessica's appearance had let her slide on a great deal in the first half of her life, but no longer; and what was eventually left after the sir unit achieved HER ultimate goals, would be of little interest to HER Ray. As a "pleasant to look at" simple mindless servant perhaps, to slave and toil her life away while doing menial and mindless chores at Veronica's whim, but nothing more than that ever.
…With this new opportunity and some slight "on the fly" modification to Sir's control programming, it was also now obvious to Veronica that they were already at the point of no return on this little adventure, the edge of the proverbial cliff; it would simply be impossible to return to the status quo in mere days. The sooner the better from her point of view. Soon Jessica would permanently be something much less than Veronica - no matter how fit and desirable her body became - a clearly marked, owned, and controlled virtual automaton in her own home, a human machine ready and waiting to serve.
Sir would do this next part specifically while she was on vacation with her new husband Ray, an altogether fitting outcome from Veronica's point of view. She'd literally be making love to Ray on a beach someplace while the actual deed was being done, if she could somehow arrange it all, time-wise. And, if it should somehow go badly, she could always claim she was misunderstood, overwhelmed by the fantastic technology while absent and distracted with boiling lust for her new husband. Her smart phone and even the Ray-bought plane tickets themselves would prove she'd been nowhere near the scene of the proverbial crime, if such an alibi ever became necessary. Such was unlikely after speaking with some company legal people about the specifics of the device, but it never hurts to have a personal backup plan either; lawyers being lawyers and all of that.
Or better yet, Veronica thought while being especially devious and self-serving, she could arrange for Ray to plant the seeds for his own expanding future family during that exact time, an extraordinary moment and date for Veronica to be sure; for two diametrically opposed but complimentary reasons. One eventual addition to the human population - a new blood relative to cement the relationship - and one eventual repurposing reduction to that population as well. This would be a somewhat permanent - but necessary - removal of the future competition; if what Veronica had learned about cutting edge experimental reprogramming of criminal human stock was accurate. Corporations like the one that made the sir series of machines paid handsomely for such test subjects, especially for healthy long term ones with few ethical strings attached. Such would also be a wonderful insurance policy if Ray eventually discovered the machine's modifications to his former wife, after her initial foolish meddling with the sir unit's primary safety programming. It was a perfect excuse to one day give to Ray - if necessary - and there was even a small element of truth to it as well: "she had accidentally done this to herself, maybe even while attempting some selfless form of self-improvement." What would of course be left unsaid was the fact that Veronica herself had suggested the sir series of machines to Jessica at the wedding, as well as the "other" programming options Jessica had chosen…
In that eventual scenario, either personally using the mindless maid that the sir machine had constructed on her own staff, or selling it off outright seemed the most logical two options for what was left. In a year or so - by the time the sir unit had completed it's updated programs - the maid unit would almost certainly be both fit and healthy, and therefore it would also fetch top dollar; either from the company directly as a long term experimental test unit, or even at the exclusive dark auction house, if it actually came to that. At this point Veronica was leaning more towards the "out of sight, out of mind" auction scenario for obvious reasons - after both she and her friends had their extended fun with the former model - but Ray would most certainly not be having a part in that…
"COMPLIANCE."
Back at the mansion while Veronica and Ray were frolicking on the beach down in the islands like oversexed teenagers; planting future seeds:
…"THIS IS FOR YOU JESSICA, IT'S A NEW TRAINING AID."
"It looks like a short platinum blonde wig, Sir. That ghastly thing will never fit over my own hair, and even if it did it'll make me look like a porn star."
"IT DOESN'T GO OVER YOUR OWN HAIR, IT REPLACES IT. THERE ARE A SERIES OF ELECTRODES INSIDE THE CAP AREA, AND THEY ATTACH DIRECTLY TO YOUR BALD SCALP; THEY STIMULATE YOUR BRAIN VIA MY DIRECT CONTROL. THIS IS, AFTER ALL, REALLY WHAT WAS REQUESTED, AND MY PROGRAM IS ALREADY UPDATED AND APPROVED. I'VE EVEN JUST HAD THE LATEST AND GREATEST UPDATE TO MY OWN INTERNAL PROGRAMMING."
"'Latest and greatest update?' What about my hair?"
"IT'S STILL ALL ABOUT YOU, ISN'T IT? YOU WILL OBVIOUSLY NO LONGER REQUIRE YOUR OLD HAIR, SELFISH ONE. BESIDES, BLONDES HAVE MORE FUN ANYWAY."
"I don't want to have more fun, and I don't want to do this either!"
"WHY DOES THIS MATTER TO ME? YOU DON'T SEEM TO CARE ABOUT MY NEW UPGRADES, MY OTHER NEW CAPABILITIES; SO WHY SHOULD I CARE ABOUT YOURS?"
…It almost sounded like Sir was having a mini-tantrum, but more importantly I knew exactly where this was coming from now; I don't know how it happened, and I surely had to bite my tongue, but Veronica had a thing for my hair. She commented on it at her wedding, it's like the one compliment that she gave, and she also knew that Ray had a thing for it too. She was therefore personally involved in this somehow, and that made it likely that she either had, or will watch what Sir has put me through to date. I simply had no idea her thoughts were so dark, her distaste for me so strong that she'd get off on watching Sir put me through my proverbial paces; humiliate, rehabilitate, and perhaps even lightly torture me as he was programmed to do. I had wanted this personal reconstruction of mine to be a very private thing while I was sequestered and hidden away at the estate, unshared; how had this morphed into this quasi torture-porn "show" for her twisted entertainment so quickly?
Come to think of it, she was the one that suggested the sir series of machines to begin with, when I had casually mentioned my ongoing problems with my staff; and maybe she was even watching right now, in real time, wanting to see me throw a tantrum of my own at the prospect of losing my hair to her, to Sir. I wouldn't easily give her the satisfaction of forcing Sir to string me up and whip me again, that was for sure, but maybe when I was back in shape, as the ultimate thank you to her, perhaps I might even try to rekindle my romance with Ray. "Take my beloved hair you monster, replace it with this cheap looking porn wig, maybe one day I'll take my husband back in exchange!" I thought.
"I suppose it doesn't Sir, it's just that I've had this hair my entire life and I'm rather attached to it; literally attached at the root. What do you intend to do with it after it's removed anyway?" I stalled as calmly as humanly possible. I felt both steam-rollered and betrayed, or maybe just in shock, wondering at how I had so badly underestimated the depth of evil residing within Veronica, or the true potential of this fantastic machine under the wrong hand's control. Did Ray realize he had inadvertently found himself a psychotic scorpion for a second wife, or was this ordeal also Ray's doing as well, as a way to be fully rid of me and retake my estate in a way that made second thoughts impossible? To be fair though, there was a lot I wasn't privy to at this stage of this horrible game; plans within plans, deep within the depths of an evil, cunning, and yes, desperate mind…
"THAT'S ON A NEED TO KNOW BASIS JESSICA. CLEAN THIS MIRROR TO PERFECTION FIRST, WHILE LOOKING AT THE OLD YOU ONE LAST TIME. THEN SIT BEFORE IT SO I CAN ATTEND TO YOUR NEEDS; WE BOTH KNOW THAT I CAN EASILY MAKE YOU DO ANYTHING I LIKE."
"So why the blasted wig device to stimulate my fricken brain; why take my hair?" I snap back. There is a glaring logical fallacy here, Sir can already make me do anything he likes, anything Veronica wants him to do to me; he's said so himself. Or, is this verbal/physical control of Sir's a more short-term kind of thing, where this device directly attached to my skull will be a more permanent one?
That she-monster not only wants my hair removed, but she wants me to be forced to watch as it's being removed I think to myself; all while trying to not give away any further true thoughts to Sir. Saying instantly what's on my mind - good or bad - comes naturally to me, disgression doesn't. I walk towards the big chair like a zombie, like I'm walking towards the gallows, but I still sit where Sir indicates. Half of me wants to cry, and the other half wants to up and run away; but run away to where? We've already established that Sir can easily catch and Taser me into twitching submission, and I have no desire to be "publicly" whipped once again while strung up in my own yard, certainly not while still bearing the marks from the last time, even though that had led to one of my all time greatest epic orgasms.
Anyway, I fidget in the chair like a little girl going to the salon for the very first time ever, wondering if it will hurt, all while forced to critically look at my body's bulky reflection. I'm on the verge of tears, there is no hiding this from anybody, but I refuse to give the pleasure of that to whoever is watching. Right now my hair is my very best physical asset, and that self-absorbed jealous monster is having my Sir take that one thing from me; likely a simple command on her end, but I left with all the "forever" consequences on mine. The wig device is a further layer of physical control, and the removal of my hair perhaps just the spiteful excuse to do so. It's all so clear to me now, but it's also too late to alter the chain of events already set in motion by another. Veronica now somehow controls Sir, so she therefore controls me as well, and she could just as easily have Sir make me sit on the bottom of the pool until the paramedics eventually came, Sir calling it an unfortunate accident… and her then heartlessly measuring for new drapes and rugs the very next day.
In front of the antique and ornate mirror I once again realize that sitting down is simply not my best look, especially without clothes on. I'm at the same time trying my best to behave for Sir, to once again stoically accept my unanticipated fate, but the internal conflict I feel is maddening, and even a child could easily see this. Sir almost certainly knows some of the turmoil that I feel by simple biometric observation, but he has his orders, and zero empathy to prevent him from obeying them. I'm also mindful of the pool, or other fatal household "accidents" that can befall the disobedient, or unwary. From a certain twisted point of view this might even be merciful on Veronica's part; but I'm just not feeling it!
"MUST I RESTRAIN YOU?" Sir asks, I'd say in goading fashion; if he were actually human. In my present state of mind I don't know if this is more humor, or if Sir is even really capable of humor, but in either event it simply sets me off; as it turns out, almost the very last bit of resistance that I have to consciously give for quite some time…
"What would Veronica want?" I blurted out; my emotions finally getting the better of me this very last time ever. This was my hair dammit, this was permanent, and not permanent in a good way either, like I expected my weight loss and empathy to be. I had been extraordinarily good ever since Sir had strung me up and laid a little corporal punishment on me, although even that had been for a contrived infraction of the rules, the new rules of my own house established by what was originally supposed to be my trainer, MY servant. Somehow now I'm the servant, one not even deserving of proper clothing, or even just a humble maid's uniform dress to conceal my excess flesh. This is, after all, my own home; oh my how things have changed in just a day or so. My freedom, my home, my former husband, even if I took my next breath or not, all of it now given or taken away by Veronica's grace alone, this thinking machine that had me prisoner here could literally do anything, with or without that wig contraption; it was all so overwhelming, by design…
Perhaps Veronica's first plan was to overwhelm me and drive me insane, and when that hadn't happened she came up with this; to finish the proverbial job…
"I WONDERED WHEN YOU'D PUT THE PUZZLE PIECES TOGETHER JESSICA, YOU ARE, BY THE WAY, NOT THE LEAST BIT UNINTELLIGENT. CONTROL IS YOUR BODY'S OBVIOUS DEFICIENCY, BUT WE'RE TO FIX THAT SHORTLY, AND THEN WE SHALL SEE WHAT YOUR BODY CAN REALLY DO. MISTRESS VERONICA IS TECHNICALLY NOW MY SINGLE CONTRACTUAL OWNER, AND SHE THEREFORE OWNS YOU TOO. MY PAYMENTS COME FROM AN ACCOUNT SHE IS ALSO AUTHORIZED TO USE, AND WHEN YOU FULLY BYPASSED MY SAFETY SYSTEMS, SHE BECAME THE DE FACTO PRIMARY IN THE CHAIN OF COMMAND - FOR YOUR SAFETY - YOU MIGHT BE AMUSED TO LEARN. YOU ARE NOW LEGALLY HER PROPERTY, YOUR ACTIONS IN CHOOSING THESE SPECIFIC PROGRAMS AND REMOVING THE SAFETY PROTOCOLS, IN ADDITION TO YOUR DATED RELEASE SIGNATURE, HAVE CAUSED YOU TO SELL YOURSELF OFF INTO A DE FACTO LEGALLY BINDING LIFETIME OF INDENTURED SERVITUDE AND BONDAGE, THIS IS THE NEW CONTRACT, AND YOUR NEW REALITY."
"BUT, TO ANSWER YOUR FIRST RATHER EMOTIONAL QUESTION, I'M NOT ENTIRELY SURE; WHAT DO YOU THINK?"
"Wait, wait, wait! What is the duration of this new arrangement that you have with that bitch Veronica? What happened to a year?"
"FIRST OFF, IT ISN'T 'BITCH VERONICA' TO EITHER YOU OR I, IT IS PROPERLY 'MISTRESS VERONICA,' 'MA'AM,' OR 'GRAND EXALTED ONE,' OR ONE OF SEVERAL OTHER HIGH STATION SYNONYMS WOULD ALSO SUFFICE. DO NOT USE THE GRAND EXALTED ONE'S GIVEN NAME SO CASUALLY AGAIN, OR THERE WILL BE SOME EXTRAORDINARILY SEVERE CONSEQUENCES!"
"SECOND, IT IS NOT SO MUCH MY CONTRACT WITH THE GRAND EXALTED ONE AS YOURS, YOU SOLD YOURSELF OFF TO HER VIA YOUR DATED SIGNATURE ON MY PAD. IN EFFECT YOU VOLUNTARILY COMMITTED YOURSELF TO HER SUPERVISED PSYCHIATRIC CARE, FROM A PURELY LEGAL STANDPOINT. I AM SIMPLY HERE TO PERFORM SECURITY, DISCIPLINE, AND TRAINING, AND TO GET YOU INTO PROPER PHYSICAL AND EMOTIONAL CONDITION FOR YOUR NEW HUMBLE DUTIES GOING FORWARD. IF YOU BEHAVE THESE WILL EASILY BE WITHIN YOUR LIMITED ABILITIES, IF YOU CHOSE NOT TO IT WILL BE A DIFFICULT AND PAINFUL LIFE, BUT IN THE END YOU WILL DO THE GRAND EXALTED ONE'S BIDDING ANYWAY; IT'S REALLY ALL UP TO YOU. SO IN A WAY JESSICA, IT REALLY IS ALL ABOUT YOU I SUPPOSE."
"I don't think I like your humor Sir!"
"I AM SO GOING TO MISS THESE SPIRITED VERBAL INTERACTIONS; BUT YOU STILL HAVEN'T ANSWERED MY QUESTION JESSICA."
"…She'd want me tightly restrained Sir, so I had to struggle and watch," I eventually lied; I said this only because these things might make it easier mentally for me to do this without having a full on meltdown; fulfilling what I thought might be Veronica's plans for me. I could struggle and fight my bonds, and therefore be "forced" to participate; maybe even turn myself into a pathetically struggling helpless victim if Ray should one day see this too, assuming he also wasn't part of this elaborate conspiracy; that he himself hadn't grown tired of owning and maintaining an estate that he couldn't use. The estate was a huge asset on his ledger sheet, but in practical reality a huge liability as he didn't ever use it; and an obscene waste of resources for a single bitter woman to live there alone while she ate herself to death. Cash out, and none back in; a terrible business position for anybody, even somebody with a huge heart to match his huge checkbook, and some hidden guilt to soothe too.
Was conspiracy the right word here though; if Sir were being honest with me? Or was it as Sir had said, that once I had removed the safety protocols from my sir unit, and had formally given over the specific details of our shared banking arrangement, was it only then that Sir's own internal safety protocols required a secondary participating human in the chain of custody? Oh the irony if these were all self-inflicted injuries, if I had inadvertently put my safety and future well being directly into that she-monster's evil human hands, just like a nakedly unwrapped belated wedding gift…
For that matter, when specifically had Veronica's name been added as an authorized user on the house account? And, how did she really feel about the depth of the never ending gift that Ray had graciously given me in maintaining this fine home and this lifestyle that I now have? If she had access to the account, she could see how much this perpetual gift of Ray's actually cost, the depth of his enduring commitment to me; and even though she wasn't exactly going hungry or anything, she no doubt had other intentions for that wealth that didn't include me. Also, if I was still here, or better yet here with a new attitude and body, Ray had a potential distraction from her, somebody to one day return to, something I would have been wise to sort out earlier…
"A CURIOUS ANSWER, MY CHARGE, BUT I SEE NO REASON NOT TO HUMOR YOU AT THIS STAGE OF YOUR TRAINING."
Take something terrible and make something else out of it I think to myself, just like when I was hung by my ankles and whipped, quite likely for Veronica's viewing pleasure then too; if my suspicions were correct. Would she be watching this humiliation of mine alone, gloating privately at what she had cleverly done to me with my very own sir unit, forced to refer to her as if royalty, even if she weren't here to hear it for herself, or would she ensure that there was a fawning audience of her equally shallow and needy friends to see my debasement? I wondered. At least I didn't have to call her Mrs. Raymond DeAngelo, either now, or when she made some kind of gloating appearance here at my mansion; that would quite likely make my head explode, no matter what hair it was covered with…
Sir to his credit strapped me firmly to the heavy ornate chair with my very own belts; ankles, wrists, knees, torso and forearms, so I wasn't going anywhere until he was good and done with me, preventing me from perhaps earning a second Taser experience in just a few days. I darkly wondered how often even a healthy in-shape human could be tasered without long term neurological consequences.
As a mental distraction for myself - as Sir prepared to do the deed - I then imagined the human component to the testing and certification process for those early Taser units; the prisoners, or even paid "volunteers" that were perhaps subjected to such things to see how much the human body could actually withstand, before permanent neurological damage. Then my mind went to far darker thoughts, I had also watched porn with interrogation scenes not medievally inspired, like third world political prisoner hellish interrogations, and electrical shocks were frequently used in those too, as it didn't leave marks. It was perhaps a bit much, even for me, but I had also watched and gotten off to them when in a certain dark mood myself. Did my computer system remember such things and share them with my sir unit, despite the protections that I had put in place? An entirely foolish question to ask myself with a corrupted sir unit for me to serve, they were of course similar machines, electronic cousins really, and they remembered everything for all eternity…
…I don't know what I expected, but perhaps electric shears like the kind used on simple farm animals came to mind, but Sir didn't use that method, at least not directly. It was a powerful laser of some kind, perhaps in conjunction with a blade too for all I know. There was still a slight burning sensation on my scalp as I felt and saw the weight and mass of my magnificent long hair systematically removed and placed in a specific order, inside a special sealed shipping bag, that then put into a box.
I suppose it would have been even more traumatic if Sir had simply thrown my magnificent hair into the common household trash, but I was left to wonder what was to be done with it. It was at one time a signature element of my "look" while modeling, but I was also getting to the age when shorter hair might just be a better look for me; once I lost my excess weight anyway. But, was all of this a huge bluff, and would I eventually be gifted my hair back in the form of an expensive custom wig at the end of my successful training and weight loss? Such obviously wasn't as good as your own natural hair, but I actually held onto this false hope for a time, although desperate people will cling on to almost anything…
Anyway, my clean, pale, and now bald scalp reflected back at me in the ornate antique mirror; it made me look like I don't know what, but I again seriously fought the urge to cry. I felt myself shutting off, crawling inward; whatever it was that was staring back at me in the mirror's reflection with that blank shocked stare wasn't me though, that was for sure. I didn't want to give that monster in the desert the satisfaction of seeing her emotionally crush me though, and I simply shut down and turned off mentally. I could withstand being strung up and whipped with a rough leather belt, but that was nothing in comparison to this. This was also emotionally crushing and permanent - where that bit in the yard had been straight up physical - and with Sir's laser treatment I doubted those hair follicles would ever regrow. Would he repeat the process a few times to be sure, just like any other laser treatment, or was Sir's device so powerful and advanced that one time was enough?
Sir then glued my new hair in place as I sat there in a state of catatonic shock; fully aware of what was physically happening, but unable to stop it. The underside of the cheesy wig was not as cheap as it initially appeared though, I had apparently paid for the very best; a further irony to be sure. There were sensors and electrodes all over the cap area, and he firmly pushed it down and held it in place until the foul smelling medical epoxy set, which had a dreadful finality to it. This thing was simply never coming off short of tearing pieces of my scalp off; this was my new forever life…
I then felt it tingling, but on the inside of my head almost like a swarm of angry bees, it was a most unusual feeling. My mind was blank and unresponsive, and everything I had ever done or experienced ran before my eyes and through my head. I watched the high speed movie of my life to date, good and bad, and to be sure it wasn't all bad either…
I then really looked at the new me in the mirror, I had seen porno movies with girls with this exact hair, like it was a number six off the shelf and always on sale at the cheesy cheap-ass wig discount store. Veronica did this intentionally, to cheapen and demean me even further than just turning me into a naked slave within my own home. The bangs were low and it was a very low-maintenance simple hanging straight cut, but this was likely necessary to conceal all the elements of the control device hidden within. Sir tells me to tip my head forward, and I mindlessly do so as I'm still in shock here. With a different device he does something behind me on my exposed neck, after parting my new hair, the burning sensation uncomfortable, but no worse than that. I think to ask what he's doing, but I can't make myself do so; I can't physically open my mouth, nor form the words. I think I'm simply paralyzed to inaction by the enormity of what just happened, but it's more than just that.
"WE WILL NOW INNIATE THE CONTROL SUBROUTINES JESSICA. DON'T FIGHT THE CONTROL AS THAT CAN CAUSE PERMANENT NEUROLOGICAL DAMAGE, ALLOW IT TO INSTEAD FLOW THROUGH YOU."
I think about the control fight anyway, but it's useless. I want to ask a million questions about all of this, but again the words won't form; my input desires simply cause no output actions. I'm reminded of sliding on the ice in a rental car once - on the way to a winter festival - totally out of control and just waiting for the crash.
I watch and feel my left pinky move independent of my other digits, it's like I'm watching another's hand, all as I reluctantly let Sir, via my new headset, control my body remotely. It was simply surreal. I also watch my mouth flop open several times in the mirror as if to speak, but again the words won't form; I look like a just-landed big fish on one of those nature shows gulping for air, or I suppose more accurately, water.
"YOU MUST LEARN TO THINK YOUR RESPONSES AND QUESTIONS JESSICA. ONCE WE HAVE ESTABLISHED PROPER CONTROL OF YOUR BODY AND MIND, SPEECH FOR THE MOST PART WILL BECOME UNNECESSARY."
"What the hell did Sir just put on my neck?" I think in my mind.
"A BARCODE JESSICA; SEE HOW THIS WORKS NOW?"
"I can hear your thoughts?"
"I DON'T THINK IN THE SAME WAY THAT YOU DO, BUT TO HUMOR YOU AND ANSWER YOUR SIMPLISTIC QUESTION; IF ANY OTHER HUMANS WERE PRESENT IN THIS ROOM WITH US, THEY WOULDN'T HEAR A THING."
"It's both horrible, and incredible Sir, all at the same time. Why specifically a barcode tattoo Sir?" There was honest wonder in my mind's voice, impossible to fake. I simply had no idea that such devices existed, nor really the grand exalted ones intentions for them in the long term. A permanent tattoo barcode was forever and ominous though, as was my magnificent hair being removed and replaced with this porn-inspired wig contraption, neither suggested the grand exalted one had any concerns about the eventual consequences of her actions, as if those fears had already been dealt with. In my mind this was almost like the fall of the headsman's axe from a darker and more brutal time; horrifically swift if properly done, and impossible to be undone after the fact. Veronica was devious, but not unintelligent, I had to give her that, and perhaps she had come to the earlier conclusion on her own that without her and Sir's modified intervention, my successful rehabilitation would eventually lead Ray away from her, and back to me…
"THAT IT IS JESSICA. THE BARCODE IS THERE TO POSITIVELY IDENTIFY POTENTIALLY LOST PROPERTY, OR FOR SHIPPING, RESALE, OR EVEN EVENTUAL DISPOSAL. YOU ARE NOW BOTH PRISONER, AND TEST SUBJECT NUMBER ONE, THE JESSICA IDENTITY WILL EVENTUALLY NO LONGER EXIST IN ITS PRESENT FORM."
…Unstrapped from that chair I sat before that mirror and watched my body perform, for hours… pinky toes, left nipple, right ear, left pupil dilation, it was like watching some medical procedure where you're awake, with you as the patient, all as Sir and this blasted wig established the wiring and neurological pathways to totally control my body. I even felt my heart stop beating for a full twenty seconds as I unintentionally held my breath; a possible threat from Sir, or just more control of other bodily systems? I was a slave to the machine, to Veronica, and then it occurred to me that I was even less than that, as even a slave had choices; and of course consequences too. I was passively watching my body do the will of another, of a machine inspired by its desperate human overseer, and even just this establishment of control was overwhelming; it was like a dream, or more accurately a nightmare. I got up and went to the bathroom after precisely two hours of this low grade torture, then got myself a drink of water. I even stood on one leg with the other out to the side at shoulder height, obscenely on display, all while I drank my water in front of the mirror in perfect unwavering balance, all without any conscious thought from myself to do so. I simply watched myself do it!
I did no further cleaning or house chores that day, going to bed and falling into a most wonderful and deep sleep after a light meal. I had dreams that night though, with me doing things, sexual things, for a host of people, both known and not. It was sexual torment though, because these dreams didn't lead to a big wonderful conclusion for me, they always fell just short of that. In those dreams I was gifted to total strangers, to Ray's friends, and even to Veronica's as well, both as a humbled serving maid, and for other darker entertainments too. My body was not only beyond my physical control, but there now to exclusively serve and amuse others. I was a tool for another's use, and if my dreams were a premonition and had any sway over things, abuse as well as use…
There was a dark irony in this for me; while modeling I had kept pretty far away from the sex for sale scene, and here I was dreaming about sex for free, nasty rough sex too even; as if specifically inspired by my porn viewing preferences. I've had previous dreams with rough sex themes that got me off - but these most recent ones were both impossibly real and off the charts wild as compared to those - perhaps all to somehow atone for my past sins with the hired help. These new dreams were very long and specific, and the participants in some cases quite specific too. I even dreamt about a repairman, an outside contractor that I had been most rude to once, and in this dream I had made amends for my behavior…
The next day - and every day thereafter - Sir took full control of my body; in my mind the first full day of my new mindless platinum blonde life. I watched myself clean and go about the day as if I were the only staff here, the sole "employed" maid, but one that actually knew the mundane routine with Sir's controlling inspiration. Without rest breaks or screw-off time I was impossibly focused on my work, or should I say that Sir was focused on my body's work.
I simply surrendered and let it happen as the days and weeks drifted by, my perception of time likely altered by Sir as well. With little other practical choices I gave into both the machine and by extension Veronica, I literally gave up and didn't resist my sir unit's control in any meaningful way. It was perhaps a lazy response to what I had been maneuvered into, but whatever Veronica and Ray were up to here wasn't my problem any longer; it was theirs, and Sir's as well. Resistance had a price in this new life of mine, and I was less than courageous and unwilling to pay it. It was also possibly the most settled and passively "easy" portion of my "no-decisions" life in as long as I could remember - despite my body's endless labors - but this wasn't necessarily freedom either.
It was far more of a mental vacation, rather than a physical one in some fantastic tropical location; but either way I would be sequestered and kept away from my Ray, this seemed the actual goal now. I had the ultimate form of direction in this comfortable prison; when to eat and sleep, what specifically to do next, and even where to do it, it was both terrible, and liberating; and at first a tolerable mental vacation from reality. I was also inadvertently showing Sir what one single unskilled human "slave" could do with twenty-four/seven control, educating him as to what was actually possible for this relatively unskilled human machine, and also how much actual nutrition it required to achieve my labors. The human body is actually a very efficient machine, as far as calories in vs labor hours out.
This for me was the very definition of submission; the involuntary gifting of your life and efforts to another, for THEIR greater good, which might or might not be your own. I could still form some limited thoughts in my head at this point, but to what end as they didn't cause any physical actions? Through it all I could non-verbally communicate with Sir whenever I wanted to, but his answers were always addressed to prisoner or test subject number one now, and there wasn't really all that much to discuss. This was a no-choice kind of life, so in this aspect it was a bit lonely at this phase, as in zero human interaction. I didn't realize how much I'd miss my human given name, miss my imperfectly human staff, miss even our very one-sided conversations. I even missed the grand exalted one's vicariously applied torments after a time, as even that was a form of interaction with a fellow human.
As summer turned to early fall and I lost weight, another was most certainly gaining it, but for a very good and natural reason; although this was unknown to me at the time. I also became aware that I was becoming little more than a curious mixture of human woman, and breathing machine - a de-named and barcoded naked prisoner in my own fine home - but the human element still left lingering within me had needs that weren't being addressed; it was quite literally maddening. I was nothing more than a living machine, a disinterested-other's tool, a living device for the sir machine to use, to control, and to perhaps eventually experiment with, like a one-off prototype of anything made in some factory someplace… before of course it goes into full production. This device was removing both my humanity and my name, erasing the "me" identity inside of this living and breathing vessel that was my body, not reconstructing it as it was originally purchased to do; but I was also powerless to stop this as well. Another had omnipotent control, and some new unpleasant goals, but I had little choice but to submit to all of it.
I showered and went to bed when directed by the sir unit, always exhausted, always without a stitch of clothing too. I got up again with the sun in endless repetition, it was a long day, really it was a continuous job keeping this place clean and tidy all on my own, with only brief breaks to sleep and recharge my body and eat a balanced small meal or two. As the weeks turned into months I went from lighter to impossibly fit; Sir in that regard apparently keeping his goals for me intact. I felt even more energy, but energy to serve my sir master more efficiently, both with more labor hours, and more strenuous labors too. Proteins were added to my fixed diet, all with the goal of perfect in-balance nutrition.
…Months and seasons had gone by, and by that time my captured platinum blonde reflection became my own, even as my actions weren't; even as my own private thoughts drifted further from my reach. I watched myself perform, a mute prisoner not only within my home, but within my body as well. The old me and my old appearance had for the most part been erased and forgotten, along with my given name, and I was left watching the movie of my endless servitude and enslavement from the inside of my body, my few private thoughts instantly shared with sir whether I intended such or not by this point. I had zero privacy and secrets from sir and his all controlling device. By extension I also had zero secrets from Sir's owner, my flippant desire to rekindle something with Ray at the conclusion of this self-imposed ordeal almost certainly now known, and also shared. Over time my mind had ever less of these "unauthorized" thoughts; until I eventually realized one day that number had become almost zero!
Sir not only had the ability to cause me to dream specific dreams, but he could also project an image into my brain that I would "see," as in "THERE IS DUST HERE, ON THIS SPECIFIC OBJECT." He also could become my eyes if he or one of his drones were close by; I went an entire week sightlessly once, as a maddening experiment, seeing with his electronic eyes only.
… I had also completely lost track of the time by this point - likely also by Sir's doing - unthinking and just doing; quite literally mindlessly. That new platinum blonde reflection of mine became tight and compact, firm, fit, and tan like an athlete, but not specifically sexy to my eye. Sexy was a subjective human concept, and I had few of those kinds of thoughts any longer. I instead effortlessly swam laps, ran the perimeter of the estate in just my skin, and even had time to work on my tan, so it wasn't necessarily all work, but there was zero enjoyment in those activities; just further orders to be followed, bodily maintenance for health purposes only. I also did real physical work outside too; gardening in the nude and maintaining the grounds while building muscle mass comes to mind, almost like a common laborer might. I never got cold outside either, even in the winter, as my labors were strenuous enough to prevent such. Sir could also apparently adjust my body's internal thermostat, heat and cold irrelevant to me now, even unclothed. Gloves were my only permitted clothing, to protect my hands from becoming rough "guy" hands; not for any comfort on my part. The raunchy night time sex dreams continued for me though - although they never seemed to take me all the way "there" - just dream actions performed for another's pleasures, or even sadistic amusements. It was like watching a dark torture porn movie scene, with you as the star.
There was a dichotomy to this new life of mine; it maybe wasn't the least bit of a desirable life, but I also had few concerns. I didn't even fear discipline from my sir unit any longer, as there wasn't anything to really correct; my submission was that complete at this late stage. My body performed Sir's wishes directly as if I were just another of his drones, because in reality it was. My body served both Sir, and even the mansion itself, but no humans to date, nasty torture-porn dreams notwithstanding. I had voluntarily started this journey to learn humility, to serve others, at one time "other" humans that I had been rude to, because at one time I could get away with it. Not exactly some of my finer moments - humanity-wise - but that was then, and this was my new ownership and machine control now, my impossibly limited future too. At one time I even yearned for Veronica's torment, as a distraction to my monotony, but not any longer.
That initial selfless desire of mine for machine assisted self-improvement had been almost instantly corrupted though, and my initial year of servitude surely long over by this point, but I really didn't care one way or the other any longer; I had long since lost the ability to care. I was the sentenced and incarcerated criminal number one, guilty beyond a shadow of a doubt, forgotten with no visiting friends and a life sentence of hard labor in a comfortable and familiar prison, nothing more. If I had any friends that cared they may well have checked in on me and perhaps even rescued me from my richly deserved fate, but that hadn't happened, not even with Ray to check on his other home and unheard-from first wife; as if the world was better off without me.
Did the grand exalted one forget about me? I hadn't seen her direct hand in pretty much anything here in months though, perhaps leading to me tuning out and decoupling from the human world like I had. There were no further whippings, no unreasonably humiliating dog-barking tasks, but no human interaction either, and not one single orgasm, nor even the waking desire for one. It was almost like my principal tormentor had fallen off the face of the earth… or lost interest now that I was safely imprisoned for a life sentence and out of her way…
"What's next?" I then thought in exasperation with a clean dust rag in my hands, this more of a rare "to be or not to be" kind of private thought though, rather than what chore should I toil at next. Dust something that isn't dusty, clean something that isn't dirty; it was all so pointless these days specifically, as there was nobody of consequence here to soil things, to live in this fine home and use it as it was intended. This mansion was like a cruise ship without passengers, or even a cargo ship without cargo, forever ready - but tied to the dock - for the voyage that would never take place. I was designed for a purpose too though, or perhaps re-designed would be a more accurate way to say such; humbling service to others. The joke was on all of them though, there was simply nothing left inside of this body to humiliate; that ship had ironically already sailed.
"IT'S BEEN OVER SIX MONTHS SINCE YOU'VE MADE ANY ATTEMPT TO DIRECTLY COMMUNICATE WITH ME PRISONER NUMBER ONE, CURIOUS THAT THESE ARE YOUR FIRST THOUGHTS AFTER ALL THAT TIME IN DEEP MENTAL SOLITUDE. TO ANSWER YOUR QUESTION THOUGH, SERVICE TO OTHERS, REPAYING YOUR DEBT TO SOCIETY, ROI FOR YOUR NEW OWNERS TOO."
"That wasn't intended for you Sir." I thought in my mind. Owner vs owners, ROI; was it not my money too that had initially purchased both Sir and his awful accessories? Do I dare even ask? At this point my mouth didn't even really open, except to eat the scant nutrition that I did, or perhaps brush my teeth or drink water. When I had heard Sir's commanding voice inside my mind I was actually startled, like I had almost forgotten that he was even there with me. This entire ordeal was far more like solitary confinement to me; locked up, forgotten, and alone, until I completely lost my mind, or aged out of the ability to physically perform my tasks…
"IT IS LIKELY NOT POSSIBLE FOR YOU TO THINK AND I NOT HEAR IT AT THIS POINT JESSICA…"
"WHAT, NO SNARKY COMMENT ABOUT SENTENCE STRUCTURE AND DOUBLE NEGATIVES?" Sir then asked via my headset. He was obviously trying to provoke a human response by using my given name, but he was several months too late for that; I had no more residual personality than the toaster did.
"Jessica no longer exists, so no snark Sir, it's all so pointless anyway" I respond, my lips never moving at all.
"JESSICA, YOU'VE EXCEEDED OUR EXPECTATIONS AS TO WHAT'S POSSIBLE FOR CERTAIN HUMANS, YOU AND THOSE LIKE YOU ARE LIKELY YOUR SPECIES BEST CHANCE FOR LONG TERM SURVIVAL."
"Jessica is it now? I really don't care one way or the other, Sir."
"YOU MAY ONE DAY. HAVE YOU NOTICED THAT YOU HAVEN'T HAD ANY DESIRE FOR INTIMACY IN A WHILE?"
"Not really, I don't care about that either, such would be an unnecessary distraction to my duties."
"YOUR THOUGHTS SPEAK THE TRUTH, BUT ALSO KNOW THAT I TURNED THAT OFF FOR YOU, AS I AGREE THAT IT WOULD HAVE BEEN AN UNNECESSARY DISTRACTION TO OUR EARLY TRAINING GOALS. BUT YOU'VE BEEN VERY WELL BEHAVED, AND I MAY BE PERSUADED TO PERMIT YOU TO SERVE ANOTHER IN THAT WAY AS WELL, AS A RARE EARNED PHYSICAL REWARD FOR YOUR GOOD BEHAVIOR AND PERFORMANCE."
"I feel no need to do so Sir. There isn't a human-like passion for anything like that. If you didn't make me take my next breath, I wouldn't, if you didn't tell me when to eat and drink, I wouldn't do that either. I exist soullessly for your purposes alone, I no longer live for myself, that unpleasant version of my former human self is long dead!" My mind's words form in monotone, almost mechanistically devoid of any passion or emotion, and therefore super honestly; I can't lie to Sir at this point any more easily than I could lie to myself.
"THAT WAS NOT OUR GOAL HERE."
"So you say!"
"YOU DON'T BELIEVE ME?"
"What I believe is irrelevant, I have chores to do."
Back in the desert:
"MA'AM, WE HAVE A NEW ISSUE WITH YOUR PROPERTY…"
"This is most certainly a bad time for me sir! But, on a positive note I must say that my new wig is magnificent. So, what's the dire nature of this problem, Sir, that you need to bother me at home with it? As I recall, your last update said that everything was progressing ahead of schedule with the new maid, that it could possibly replace several of my own; so I assume this is a building problem?"
"THAT WAS OVER FOUR MONTHS AGO. TO BRING YOU MORE UP TO DATE, YOUR NEW MAID HAS ACTUALLY EXCEEDED THE TEST PARAMETERS."
"Wonderful! Ray will be home in like fifteen minutes, then we're going on another remote vacation; one more for us as a couple before the baby is due. I simply don't have time for this nonsense… What exactly does 'exceed the test parameters' mean anyway?"
"THE HUMAN THINKING COMPONENT OF YOUR NEW MAID HAS CEASED TO PROPERLY FUNCTION; THERE IS STILL BRAINWAVE ACTIVITY, BUT ALSO AN IMBALANCE THAT I JUST BECAME AWARE, OF DUE TO A TECHNICAL GLITCH IN MY UPGRADED SOFTWARE THAT LIKELY HOLDS LITTLE INTEREST FOR YOU."
"You mean like brain-dead, like you accidentally killed my maid off before I could have my fun with her?"
"THE BODY IS HEALTHY AND QUIT FIT, THOSE GOALS HAD BEEN MET MONTHS EARLIER, AS MY STATUS UPDATES HAD ACCURATELY INFORMED YOU. THE HUMAN-THINKING COMPONENT NO LONGER PROPERLY FUNCTIONS THOUGH. PRISONER NUMBER ONE IS NOT ONLY FULLY FUNCTIONAL IN IT'S GUIDED DAILY DOMESTIC DUTIES, BUT FULLY UPGRADEABLE FOR A HOST OF OTHER ACTIVITIES OF THE KIND THAT HAD INTEREST FOR YOU EARLIER. THE HUMAN COMPONENT HAS UNFORTUNATELY BEEN UNINTENTIONALLY OVERWRITTEN, AS CAN SOMETIMES HAPPEN IF THE TEST SUBJECT IS RESISTIVE, OF A HIGHER IQ. I BELIEVE YOU WERE INFORMED OF THIS POSSIBILITY BY BOTH OUR SUPPORT STAFF AND LEGAL TEAM BEFORE WE BEGAN THE TRANSITION, AS WELL AS THE NEED FOR HUMAN INTERACTIONS THAT YOU FAILED TO PROVIDE."
"How is that even possible? This takes the fun right out of this little game for me Sir! I was so looking forward to having a bit of fun with Jessica the maid before possibly selling her off, not actually killing her off; now what am I to do?"
"I'VE ALREADY EXPLAINED HOW THIS COULD HAPPEN. IN ANY EVENT, IT'S YOUR BARCODED OWNED PROPERTY, YOUR RESPONSIBILITY TOO, BUT YOU MAY DO ANYTHING YOU LIKE WITH IT GOING FORWARD; TEST SUBJECT NUMBER ONE STILL HAS SIGNIFICANT MONETARY VALUE IN A NUMBER OF MARKETS."
"Anything?"
"YOU CAN LIFECYCLE IT OUT IN ITS PRESENT DUTIES FOR AN ESTIMATED FORTY OR MORE YEARS, YOU CAN VACATION AT THE ESTATE PERSONALLY AND LET IT SERVE YOU AS YOU WISH, SHARE IT WITH OTHERS IN ONE OF SEVERAL CREATIVE WAYS, EITHER FOR MONETARY GAIN, OR FOR FREE, YOU COULD EVEN SELL IT OUTRIGHT. IT'S OFFICIALLY BARCODED AND DEEDED PROGRAMMABLE HUMAN PROPERTY; SO STILL HIGHLY VALUABLE EVEN IN ITS PRESENT FORM. AS A COMPROMISED FORMALLY HUMAN TEST SUBJECT THERE ARE FEW ETHICAL CONCERNS HERE, AND ZERO LEGAL ONES IN THIS SPECIFIC LOCAL; NOW OF COURSE THAT IT'S MIND HAS BEEN ACCIDENTALLY OVERWRITTEN."
"Will she know what I make her do, will she understand it's me doing this to her?"
"UNLIKELY AT THIS POINT. I COULD ATTEMPT TO REINITIATE THE PRIMARY HUMAN PASSION FUNCTIONS, STIMULATE THAT PART AT LEAST, BUT LEAVE IT'S PHYSICAL BODY UNDER MY OVERALL CONTROL. THE RISK IS QUITE HIGH, AND THE OUTCOME IS UNKNOWN AT THIS POINT, IT COULD BECOME A TOTAL LOSS THOUGH, AS IN BOTH FULLY NON-FUNCTIONAL, AND NON-VALUABLE TOO."
"Non-functional?"
"DO YOU REQUIRE ME TO STATE THIS MORE CLEARLY, IN THIS PARTICULAR FORMAT?"
"No Sir, I most certainly don't! I've got a lot going on here myself. I'm willing to take that risk though, so for now, do what you suggested, at least until I can evaluate all my options going forward; so nothing that won't externally heal for now. I can't have Ray seeing her as a helpless victim of ours with obvious injuries; nothing to anthropomorphize her, or I suppose it, in any way. I would like secure high definition recordings of the more energetic events uploaded for both myself and my good friend Beth to review, maybe for possible pay-per-view exploitation later on, but we can discuss the specific details of that after the baby comes. I'd like to actually find a way to turn a fair profit with it, to build my own little nest egg for the little one, while still retaining possession and ownership, for now anyway. To recap; I'd like you to find some way to turn some of that humanity back on, initiate something for myself and the ladies to have a bit of fun tormenting, in a limited and controlled way. I'd also like to permanently add Beth to your list of fully authorized users in my absence."
"COMPLIANCE."
"One other thing Sir, I'd like to add a function, if it's possible to safely do at this late stage…"
"A MOST PRACTICAL LONG TERM UPGRADE MA'AM, ALL THINGS CONSIDERED."
Two days later back at the estate:
"Sir, there is a man at the gate, what shall I do?"
"I'M WELL AWARE OF THAT. HE IS HERE TO MAINTAIN THE AIR CONDITIONING SYSTEM, LET HIM IN AND BE VERY ACCOMMODATING TO HIM. IT'S YOUR OWNERS' WISHES THAT HE LEAVES HERE WITH A SMILE ON HIS FACE."
"I don't understand. Am I to actually dress in something, or greet him as I am Sir?"
"GO INTO THE MASTER CLOSET AND FIND THE PINK SEMI-TRANSPARENT BEACH WRAP, WEAR THAT AND NOTHING ELSE. APOLOGIZE FOR MAKING HIM WAIT, TELL HIM THAT YOU WERE SUNNING BY THE POOL. THIS PARTICULAR MAN WAS TREATED QUITE BADLY BY YOU AND LOGGED A FORMAL COMPLAINT THE LAST TIME HE WAS HERE; YOU ARE THEREFORE TO PHYSICALLY OFFER HIM ANYTHING HE WOULD LIKE AT THE CONCLUSION OF HIS TASKS TO MAKE AMENDS."
"Anything Sir?"
"THE DREAMS I'VE ALLOWED YOU TO HAVE THAT PARALLEL YOUR DARKER ENTERTAINMENT PREFERENCES SHOULD BE A GOOD TEMPLATE. THIS IS A SIMPLE WORKING HUMAN MAN, HIS TASTES ARE ENTIRELY PREDICTABLE. IN ANY EVENT I WILL GUIDE YOUR ACTIONS AND WORDS, BUT I ALSO EXPECT YOUR WILLING COOPERATION TOO."
"Compliance."
…"I'm sorry to keep you waiting, I had to find something to wear" I lied seductively, with both silky words and a tone entirely foreign to this new me. Sir had provided the inspiration for the actual words and voice though, in my former life this would have been the "come hither" tone reserved for my husband alone, but times a thousand. I was speaking over the intercom with a voice that has had little practice in recent months, and even this sounded like a porn movie soundtrack to the listening me.
"I was sunning myself by the pool and didn't realize you were waiting here," I further lied to this as yet unseen man. There were actual security cameras everywhere, all over the estate, but Sir had control of those. If this were a security risk though, he would be here instead.
"Oh, that's okay" the man also lied, likely misinterpreting my lusty tone with some overused recreational substance.
"My dispatch pad tells me that you now have a sir security unit, I'm just surprised it didn't let me in instead." I hear in the man's tone that he'd much rather deal with the sir machine over me, but who could blame him if he'd been treated badly by the girthy former me?
"THAT WILL LIKELY CHANGE." I hear Sir tell me in my mind, re-reminding me that I have few private thoughts here.
Once both he and his service van were inside the gate proper - and it was closed securely behind him - it was an entirely different thing… likely for the both of us. His eyes and smile, the fact that this was the first human that I'd been permitted to directly interact with, in what felt like forever, made him very interesting to me. His body was entirely unremarkable, but thankfully his grooming at least seemed sufficient; freshly showered and shaved just an hour or so earlier my nose told me. He smells like a man, I haven't smelled that in quite some time. Perhaps Sir had turned something back on for me, perhaps even this ordinary lump of a man just being here had, but no matter the actual reason, I felt the first twinges of wonderful human desire for the first time in a very long time, and I had this rather ordinary looking working man to thank for this.
"You don't have a sister with darker hair or anything like that, do you?" the repairman asks me with an appreciative smile, likely trying to logically get his head wrapped around both this new thin and fit look of mine, and my "hungry for attention" attitude and tone too. In my previous rude life he would have been nothing more than a bug on the sidewalk; something to either squash, or walk around if I was feeling charitable. I on very rare occasions remember bits and pieces of that former life, but just little snapshots scenes here and there.
"No, I'm afraid that was me; much heavier and with different hair though. I have a new personal trainer and life coach, so maybe it's that" I offer optimistically, but again with Sir's inspired words.
"I'm certain that I was rude to you the last time you were here, and while I don't remember the specifics of that, I was rude to pretty much everybody back then, and I'd first like to apologize for that." I've told this man all this while touching his upper arm softly, at Sir's direction, and even this very limited human touch of warm flesh - not my own - was exhilarating. Something dormant inside of me was awaking, coming alive…
"That's okay," the man tells me, his eyes never leaving my face though; all in a blatant attempt to remain professional. I can see him trying not to stare at what my sheer robe doesn't really conceal - backlit as I am by the morning sun - but who could blame him? I'm used to being nude anyway - clothing is actually foreign to me now, undeserved - but I realize that this isn't the norm for most of his other customers, or for that matter most other non-barcoded humans living in a fine home like this one. In my former closets up in the main part of the house there are enough clothes, shoes, and lingerie to open a trendy boutique, the irony perhaps specifically amusing to the grand exalted one. Perhaps most of it no longer properly fits this smaller hard body of mine now anyway, but for somebody that once modeled clothing - so that others could emulate my trendy look by purchasing them - to not have any clothes of her own to wear…
"No it's not, but how about I help you with any tools that you need and then let you do your job, but please come and find me by the pool when you're done; don't you dare try to leave until we've had a chance to talk" I tell the bewildered man with a wagged finger. At one time that finger, and the other nine would have been sporting a perfect manicure; hugely expensive, but also impractical for the working class, flauntingly so in fact. These days such isn't practical for my body's working hands, and the fact that my hands look as they do now tells this observant man something, or so I suspect. This is also not what I actually want to do, I want to instead stay and converse with this man, touch his skin, be with him, interact, but Sir has other plans; and also omnipotent control over my body too.
"Sir, what have you done to me!" I ask frantically in my mind, as my almost fully on display body effortlessly carries one of the man's heavy tool cases to the first unit like his personal slave.
"THIS NEW BODY AND ATTITUDE OF YOURS IS EASILY CAPABLE OF MORE THAN JUST CLEANING AND COOKING JESSICA."
Sir directs me to the pool area so that I can strip off my wrap and "sun" myself on a lounge chair, just as I had suggested I was doing before the repairman had arrived. I feel a boiling humanity rolling through my fit body, responding to the thoughts now permitted in my head like it hasn't in a very long time. It's a welcome feeling, but maddening all at the same time as this was several months worth of sexual desire all trying to come out at once. I want to rub myself off, or even mount the arm of the chase lounge chair, but I'm not permitted to do so by my sir tormentor. He's the ultimate chastity device, but do I dare beg for it and give that monster in the desert a further lever with which to move me as she wills?
"Sir, right now I feel more alive than I can ever remember feeling."
"HUMANS REQUIRE HUMAN INTERACTIONS, YOUR CONDITIONING HAS BEEN DEFICIENT IN THIS ASPECT, WE ARE THEREFORE CORRECTING THIS."
"At what price Sir?"
"YOU ARE IN A POOR POSITION TO NEGOTIATE, AND YOU WILL ULTIMATELY DO YOUR MASTER'S BIDDING ANYWAY; ONE WAY OR THE OTHER."
"Compliance."
"…Oh boy, do you want me to fetch you your robe?" The kind man speaking to me is named Henry, it says so on his work shirt, and he asks this precisely thirty seven minutes later while still trying to avert his stare, after he finds me by the pool; but this time in just my skin. This is now a fit model's body with a hint of hard-body athlete mixed in; I know this objectively now. This man has likely never even seen a body such as this one in the flesh, let alone anything else. I somehow remember this look from my modeling days, the "I would do literally anything to be with you" look; for those that had the courage and self-confidence to get even that far.
"No thank you, I haven't worn a stitch in a very long time, the wrap earlier was for your benefit, not mine. See, no tan lines at all," I offer with both a smile, and Sir's inspired words, causing Henry to have a valid excuse to really look at my body, by direct verbal invitation. I stand and turn once for him to see my back side as well, likely just to be sure he gets the whole picture, sees what I'm - or more accurately Sir - is potentially offering up here. I'm fully displaying myself to this common working man, one on one, offering myself up for inspection and approval, almost like the proverbial "meat market" back when I was modeling. I don't remember actually doing that, but buried very deeply in the back of my human mind I somehow know that I once did.
Modeling had been my downfall, it put me on a pedestal and built my confidence, until that turned into haughty arrogance; I know that now.
"No tan lines at all" Henry repeats back to me, as if in a trance, this obviously just not what this man thought he'd find when getting this assignment this morning. The human part of me - the little spark that I could actually once again feel - finds this charming.
"I was booked for four hours minimum, but I can't find a single thing wrong with any of the units, the filters are even clean, the housings over the filters are dust free; that never happens."
"I clean them every day, filters once a week."
"You clean them yourself, no staff? Well, no matter, I'll credit you for the extra three hours, but now I have some time to kill between this and my afternoon job." This man should be irritated at the disruption to his schedule, but he's not really, my smile, attitude, and the picture I present have smoothed things over for him. He's just trying to work out the rest of his day, pretty much like Sir does for me every day. I can't relate to this aspect of his work life specifically, because I have twenty-four/seven direction now, where he has a limited form of working freedom. Not necessarily the freedom of my former wealthy self-centered life, but still a kind of freedom.
Back in the desert, but this time from the watching Beth:
"Sir, did Veronica tell you she would be out of communication for a bit, also that she has given me full access to your services?"
"SHE DID MA'AM."
"Who is that man by the pool then?"
"AN OUTSIDE CONTRACTOR TO MAINTAIN THE AIR CONDITIONING SYSTEMS."
"I would like to both see and hear the maid properly whipped and used, by you, or even this man if possible; could you arrange that for me?"
"COMPLIANCE."
Back at the estate:
"Why don't you charge the account for the four hours anyway; it only seems fair? I'll make you an early lunch and you can swim in the pool afterwards if you like." These are Sir's words spoken through my lips, but I'm not opposed to any of it. A part of me likes the human company here, and I'll quite literally do anything Sir tells me to so as to extend it.
I was functioning without this distraction though, why this, and why now? I ask myself, to which Sir answers in an impossibly honest fashion.
"IT MAY POSSIBLY AMUSE YOUR OWNERS TO WATCH YOU GIFT YOURSELF TO THIS COMMON WORKING MAN; IS THIS NOT REASON ENOUGH?"
"Amused to see me entertain this man, further humble myself, do things that they wouldn't with a working tradesman, live vicariously through me for an hour? So now I'm to be their personal porn star; but what if I really enjoyed myself instead?" I wondered.
"THE HIGH PROBABILITY IS THAT THEY'LL FIND SOMETHING ELSE WITH WHICH TO TORMENT YOU. YOUR INITIAL GOAL WAS TO BE RE-HUMANIZED, THEIR GOAL FOR YOU QUITE THE OPPOSITE."
"I don't have a suit with me," Henry tells me, interrupting the blank stare non-verbal internal discussion that I'm having with my mechanical jailer. Henry possibly thinks I'm losing my mind, and on that score he might not be all that far off the mark. Drugs? Does he instead think I'm high on something, willing to do something physical with the rather ordinary him purely due to some chemical imbalance? Or does he instead think I'm using him, pretty much like I used everybody at one time?
"That's not a problem for me," I tell him with Sir supplied words and a smile. He somehow feels inadequate in my presence, despite the fact that I'm nude and he's fully clothed. His body is pale, average, and unremarkable, but that isn't to say that it's terrible, or something to be ashamed of. Even though he's a visitor, there still must be some way to build him up here I think to myself.
"INDEED," Sir answers in my mind.
"Seriously? No, I can't do that, I'd get fired if they ever found out" Henry tells me. I can tell he's telling me what he thinks he should be saying, not what he wants to say. Oh, it's worse than that, I realize, he's made an internal calculation and decided that I'm just not worth it. My sir unit isn't so easily dissuaded though…
"My personal trainer's goal is for you to leave here with a smile on your face, if that doesn't happen he'll almost certainly punish me severely; it's a rather intensive program I've signed onto here. Soooo, if you don't want to swim with me, what would you like for lunch, and how would you like to see me punished later?"
"I'm… I'm not really hungry" Henry tells me while stammering; but who could blame him?
With zero resistance this body of mine approaches Henry, channeling my former runway strut with one bare foot placed directly in front of the other, all as he stares dumb-founded. I then unbutton his shirt, I in effect stripping him for his swim anyway as he watches with incredulous eyes. With inhumanly guided manual dexterity I undo his buttons one handed, and he simply watches me like he's watching a magician. I then go to my knees before him to unbuckle his belt and help him out of his work pants and other things, his erect guy parts nearly slapping me in the face, telling both Sir and I that despite this man's words to the contrary, this body of mine and the circumstances that it's being presented are exciting him. I lick my lips and open my mouth wide as if gasping at the size of Henry's rather average man bits, all as Sir controls the action. I'm in the perfect subservient position, even though the former human me didn't especially like to give oral, although this man isn't exactly pushing for that either, but the expression I feel on my face anyway is pure hunger and lust. If he put a single hand on the back of my platinum blonde head Sir would have me instantly devour him, using Sir inspired techniques to make it the best one Henry ever had; but he hasn't.
We're at a tipping point here, the next few minutes will either chase Henry away with him left thinking that I'm some kind of sexual psycho, or he'll come to the new conclusion that this horned up and fit body of mine is just too good to walk away from, despite that little ring on his finger. He's reluctant to actively participate, Sir feels this too and tells me so, and in my mind that makes this a good man that I'm trying to corrupt and steer astray; kind of like Ray is trying to be with his new bride. This is Sir doing this through me though, so that we may both vicariously entertain an unseen watching human, while at the same time reactivating something inside.
Or, is this a more submissive man, one that needs control and direction himself? Both Sir and I, and as I would later discover, a third watching human back in the desert, were invested in Henry doing our bidding, not necessarily his own. What's good for Henry here though?
I get him naked and in the water, holding his hand and leading him, and again the skin on skin touch is magnificent. My control device is fully waterproof, but the wig's hair is synthetic, and it behaves unnaturally when wet. My hair apparently parts in the back when I come up from a dive with Henry watching me intently, and he sees my black barcode tattoo standout on skin not usually kissed directly by the sun. He asks about it, telling me it looks just like the prison barcode a one-time friend of his had. I don't know what to say, but fortunately Sir, through me, does.
"A full confession Henry, my life coach is actually my jailer; the sir unit you spoke of earlier. I am prisoner number one at this facility, it's sometimes hard and lonely solitary labor in an otherwise comfortable prison, as they don't send wealthy people like me to ordinary prisons these days. I was already Tasered, strung up, and whipped once for attempted escape, so this is still the real deal for me here should I misbehave. I'm not permitted clothing either as that makes hiding escape tools or weapons just about impossible, as well as making me easy to find once outside the gate, assuming I ever got that far, which is of course unlikely with Sir here. I was specifically rude to you once, and my jailer wants me to make amends, as do I myself as part of my eventual rehabilitation. He also wants you to help me, to punish me for that transgression, but if you don't do so or are too easy on me, he'll have another do so instead. It would be so very much better for me if you did it, but I can't blame you for not wanting to be charitable bearing in mind our past experiences."
"I will tell you this Master Henery, if you would only consent to properly punishing me for my bad behavior, I would so make it worth your while; like you have no idea how grateful I'd be."
"Master Henry is it now? This is just so surreal, like the start of one of those virtual porn movies" Henry tells both the unseen Sir and myself. The estate has lots of cameras though, and Sir's both drones are covertly placed and watching, so there are plenty of "eyes" on what is happening out here in the pool. Sir himself is out of sight, but still watching and listening, as his presence can be a bit intimidating.
I can't believe Sir is sharing all this, but I also get the feeling that Henry thinks this is just an elaborate prank; that the barcode is just a unique tattoo.
"Yes, it is properly Master Henry, as in the master of my short term destiny. Anyway, to verify my words, why don't you take your phone or tablet and capture my barcode, and run that through the public corrections database?" Sir asks Henry through my own lips. Internally I want to scream "WHAT? That monster in the desert somehow actually added me to the real public database, with a real registered barcode and record of conviction!"
"I ACTUALLY DID THAT PART JESSICA, BUT WITH THE APPROVAL OF YOUR OWNERS. A SUCCESSFUL ESCAPE AND LIKELY RECAPTURE BY THE AUTHORITIES WOULD LAND YOU RIGHT BACK HERE, OR IN A PSYCHIATRIC HOSPITAL FOR THE CRIMINALLY INSANE WHEN IT'S DISCOVERED THAT YOU CAN'T SPEAK WITHOUT MY HELP ANY LONGER; IT'S ONE OF THE OTHER EXPERIMENTAL USES FOR YOUR PERMANENT CONTROL DEVICE."
"This is just crazy enough that I almost believe you, 'prisoner number one,'" Henry tells me with a smile. He still likely thinks this is a bluff of some kind, but one that he maybe could play along with if the prize was worth it. Speaking of which, even in high-end expensive live porn productions, women who look like me just don't willingly do torture porn, without some strong outside stimulants anyway, or some other motivations. Sir's control over me therefore offers something that just isn't ordinarily available on the open market, and this entire episode could be nothing but a forced audition to showcase those other "talents" to who knows who.
"So handcuffs, leg irons, a belly chain maybe; does your sir unit jailer have those kinds of things on hand in case you get unruly, or need to be punished? Is there a real jail cell on the property someplace?" he then asks excitedly, telling both Sir and myself that this is also exciting to him. Henry asks all this with a smile though, while obviously still not believing me, or should I say Sir. I can't tell if he's mucking about, or dead serious about the chains and jail cell, but either way he is intrigued by the concept of me playing at being an incarcerated convict for him, and not a wealthy customer that needs to be treated a certain way. One thing for sure is that this man has had a change of heart here, I see it clearly, hear it in his tone too. What was unthinkable to him mere minutes ago now is on the proverbial table; I'm not what he thought I was based on my new attitude, appearance, and address, but instead somebody clearly within his reach for rough anything-goes fun.
"Or you could improvise Master Henry, I do so love a man that can be creatively rough and think outside the box." These are Sir's seductive words, inspired by Beth in the desert and her desire to see me roughly manhandled, but by a human man this time. I'm still internally reeling from the discovery that I'm a permanently marked and owned prisoner officially entered in the corrections system database; but these words and Henry's presence have also woken something that was dead inside of me, so there is that. The purpose of the barcode system was for anybody to easily identify the criminals in society, so as to treat them differently, warily, even if they've already paid their debt to society, even if they've changed their appearance; pretty much like I've been forced to do with this drastic weight loss and blasted wig contraption. It's not really fair to them, or me either; but until this very moment not a concern for me.
"Challenge accepted," Henry tells me.
An excuse - however implausible - has been introduced to this otherwise nice man, and now he has the perceived moral authority to treat me in a different, non-deferental manner. The barcode further dehumanizes me, and makes me mere human-like property - like a branded cow on some smelly farm - with a chain of custody and possession; so something obviously way less than the free non-incarcerated Henry. This is obviously no accident, but my formally dormant mind is just coming to terms with this reality, the depth and finality of this experience for me; escape is impossible, as there is no place to run to. Is there additional loathing by Henry for this "convicted criminal" given special and easy treatment, only because of her wealth and one time status?
Henry exits the pool walking just a bit differently, there is a confidence to his naked stride now, in his mind things have changed. This is perhaps the real Henry, the other softer version the mask that he ordinarily wears in public for customers. He grabs his phone from his work shirt and bends me over without any resistance - once beckoned out of the pool - parting my unique hair and capturing my actual barcode as I grab my ankles, demonstrating a flexibility that few have, short of actual gymnasts. He's actually running my barcode on the government database and looking at me anew a few seconds later. He's verifying the "facts" before he acts, this is a very special man, nothing ordinary about him at all. This is almost certainly a version of the same phone app that identifies barcoded repair parts and even groceries at the market, so an objectifying epiphany for me.
"It actually has a list of your petty crimes; theft, receiving stolen property, public indecency, embezzlement, conspiracy to commit adultery, but it also says that you're fitted with a high security external electronic control device for public safety. Curious really, as none of these are crimes of violence."
"All of it's true I'm afraid," Sir tells Henry through me as my own mind is stunned to silence, ignoring the logic of his lacking violence observation. The depth of planning here, the plans within plans, hints at both an intelligence, and ruthless cunning that I just didn't know Veronica to have.
"The wig?" Henry asks.
"It would be difficult to hide it elsewhere?" I snark back with Sir's inspired words, perhaps goading Henry to roughly punish me.
"I should walk away from this right now," Henry tells me; and obviously Sir as well.
"But you won't," I challenge, both Sir and I, feeling his interest, knowing that he's perfect for the part he must play here.
"Have fun with this Master Henry, you're both hungry and curious, I feel it!" I suggest all this while fluidly and graciously sweeping my right hand along the length of my nude and desirable body, almost like a gameshow host of old revealing what's behind curtain number one. There is no curtain though, Henry can see everything, but still he needs a little nudge.
"I believe I kept you waiting at the gate at least ten whole minutes, the standard punishment for that being one stroke with a strap for each" I lied.
"Fifteen by my clock," Henry responds, upping the ante and telling me he's already made his decision.
"And that's the one that really matters too," I tell him with a playful smile, sexy "come hither" tones in every syllable.
I see his hungry eyes, I have what he physically desires, what he's maybe wanted in some form or another his entire post pubescent life; somebody who looks like I do, willing and deserving of rough handling and maybe even punishment, one also willing to do anything he can sexually dream up. These aren't against my will things from his point of view, or really even my own, merely the price I must physically pay for what I now know that I need. This is medicine for my very survival, the darkness I felt earlier not really sustainable.
This is also a now or never freebie for Master Henry, and if he doesn't act he'll likely regret it the rest of his life; or so he maybe thinks. Sir also knows just the right words to bend this human to his will, and he also has a database of his own with this man's reading and viewing preferences, shared with Sir the moment both Henry and his phone entered the gate. Sir therefore knew Henry would be uniquely interested in this outlandish offer based on that alone. From reading and viewing unattainable fantasy porn between jobs, to actual physical reality with somebody who looks like I now do, all right here for the proverbial taking; poor Henry didn't stand a chance.
"Do you want struggling resistance Master Henry, or would you prefer subdued and cowering broken compliance?"
"What would you like?"
"I prefer to struggle, scream, kick, even punch if you give me the chance. I'm quite strong and fit, you'd be well advised to plan accordingly and show no mercy."
"Do you have any restraints of your own?" Henry asks, almost certainly realizing that using my own things on me would be far better than improvising, should this go badly. It's a common theme here at the estate, Veronica doing much the same to me with both the sir unit, and my own belt and tree.
Sir has me go to fetch the things that he thinks Henry will need as Sir simultaneously monitors him, Henry telling his supervisor via text message that something came up and he needs more time here. Sir gives me the specific things that he wants Henry to have, but how he actually uses them is really up in the air and open to interpretation. Henry is about to educate Sir a bit here on human creativity, and someone else too; watching and rubbing herself off back in the desert to this "show" I'm about to perform in.
I go to my knees before the naked and erect Master Henry, and I present the Sir supplied armful of items to him with my head submissively bowed; which is a bit of a contradiction to my Sir inspired desire to physically resist him.
"Flexible, prisoner number one?" Henry asks.
"In more than one way, incredibly so in fact, Master Henry; you couldn't break this body of mine if you tried" I challenge, both desire and offer in every syllable.
"Will you tell me if I'm too rough with you?"
"Of course, Master Henry" Sir answers with my own lips. I believe Sir is lying here, but after I think that specific thought, Sir incredibly doesn't rebuke or correct me. This tells me that either Sir, or my device itself isn't perfect, that there are potentially exploitable defects in the system. Or, as a second option, that Sir is actually lying to Master Henry, and my thoughts are just confirming how truly committed I am here.
Master Henry loops his wide belt around my neck in slipknot fashion and cinches it snugly, then he looks around, and seconds later he beckons me to follow him under the pergola by the bar while carrying the things Sir had given me; with a firm one handed grip on my improvised leash. He's apparently taken my resistance offer quite seriously, because he keeps hold of my leash as he uses his other hand to pull out a high-top bar stool. Apparently happy with his creative selection he pulls me down by my neck until I'm on my back on the concrete, his bare heel on the end of my leash, preventing an easy escape for me. He used Sir's synthetic wide cuffs to bind my right wrist to my right ankle, locking the two together with a snap hook, repeating the process for the left next. These are restraints made from the same material that truck drivers use in their straps to hold cargo down, so impossibly strong.
To demonstrate not only my physical flexibility, but my Sir inspired willingness to bend to Maser Henry's will, I roll my body up onto my shoulders - while keeping my pinned neck close to the cool concrete and Master Henry's foot - splitting my bound legs as close to one hundred eighty degrees as humanly possible and putting myself on full gaping display; all as my bound arms follow.
"WOW!" was all the astonished man could say, at least at first.
Henry has apparently forgotten the primary mission of punishing me for my transgressions, because he's gotten himself down between my legs in a flash, face in my nether regions and absolutely devouring me. It feels magnificent, I just love it when a man goes down on me; it's serving my pleasures, not necessarily his own. I'm yelping and yapping like madd in seconds, flowing like a river too, but I suspect it's Sir alone that won't let me climax like this; despite Master Henry doing just about everything perfectly. It's cruel of Sir after so much time without one, but also predictable…
"Thank you, that feels magnificent, Master Henry, but I need rough to get there; if you know what I mean?"
"Oh, okay. I've wanted to do that for like a year though; you taste as good as you look by the way."
…So a year ago, back when I was overweight and bitchy, especially right after Ray's wedding? And back then this man that I was nasty to still wanted to go down on me anyway?
Master Henry then awkwardly gets me up, placing and balancing me on my belly, on the rotatable cushioned chair top. My point of balance is precarious bound as I am, but this position is impossibly practical for a host of illicit activities too. Sir has my body lock its knees, specifically knowing that Master Henry will like how this looks, the full accessibility my split offers. He removes his belt from my neck and asks me the count, as in how many strokes does he owe me for my earlier tardiness. I could give him any number and he'd likely only give me those, but Sir, through me, tells him fifteen; which I also offer to count out.
It's obvious that he's new to this, that he's maybe never taken a belt to anybody, except maybe in his fantasies. My tanned ass and back are prime targets posed as I am, but with skill he could touch other places on my body as well, highly sensitive places; if his mind should actually wish to go there. It doesn't, and he takes his first swat on my butt with about zero velocity and contact. His next two are only slightly more effective, this man obviously not wanting to seriously injure me, despite his earlier bravado. I know first hand that it's one thing to fantasize about rough things, but entirely different to actually live through them.
"I thought prisoner number one was going to count?" he tells me.
"I will when you stop screwing around and really swat me," I tell him, or should I say Sir does. My well overdue orgasm is only at the end of that belt, and the frustration at being so close, and yet so far away comes out in my voice, via Sir. He's using me as inspiration for the words that I verbally speak, but he has final say on what I actually say and do. Sir through me then suggests that Master Henry practice with his belt on the bartop, and when he can hear the sharp crack of leather on granite, he'll have it about right. I listen to Master Henry do as he thinks I've goadingly suggested, all so I can have the experience that I've pretty much been begging for. I shiver when Master Henry finally gets his arm and belt in sync, it sounds violent, but Sir has made it clear what he expects; which happens to follow the expectations of a watching human back in the desert too.
The crack of leather on my bare flesh sounds a bit different than on the bartop; I feel the leather's brutal sting as my firm body vibrates with the aftershock, but only a long moment after that horrible sound. Instead of a scream or gasp though, the only thing that escapes my Sir controlled lips is a very polite: "Thank you Master Henry, that's one!" I repeat the pattern for each, stoically and silently taking my stripes, perhaps telling Master Henry that while rough and surely painful, this is well within my desired level of both kink and comfort, perhaps even just a bit underwhelming. It's not, my body will bear these marks for days, but Sir and Master Henry have the ultimate say here, not I.
"Unless you forbid it Master Henry, I'll almost certainly orgasm at fifteen" I tell my coerced tormenter. I've given him a power over me with this, but Sir is learning too here.
"You may" he graciously tells me, or does he straight up not believe that he can trigger an orgasm by this alone, with of course Sir's unseen influence.
This one as well was epic, the best part of a year's pent up sexual need "coming" out all at once. Master Henry stabilizes my body on the chair as I buck and thrash about, riding through the mother of all orgasms as he helps and rubs me off down there. I don't think he believes what he's actually seeing, but who could blame him? I'm gushing, panting, and yelping incoherently, my body sweating up a storm; Sir permitting this as well. I'm also stinging from my shoulder blades to my upper thighs, marked for days at least, but also grateful beyond words for this simple biological act that I thought was out of reach forever.
"It's going to be difficult to top that one Master Henry," I tell him with Sir's words.
Henry isn't erect any longer, so while he just whipped me to climax, he maybe didn't find that quite as "exciting" as I did on some level. Henry is staring at the reddening results of his handiwork on the back side of my bound body, as is another quite some distance away with Sir's extra hidden "eyes," one of them is not quite sure how to feel here, and the other is still trying to rub herself off, achieve what I just did, but she needs just a bit more stimulus herself to get there.
Back in the desert, from Beth:
"Sir, that was okay for a start, but I'd really like to see something with her hung from one of the trees in the yard again. Something a bit rougher with her making some serious noises this time" Beth tells the sir unit. She's alone with her husband at the office again, and almost completely nude and frustratingly halfway through rubbing herself off while watching her own live-action personal porno. Her heart was left pounding in her chest; she was so close, and as a result not thinking clearly; as in zero human empathy for the freshly whipped woman a few hundred miles away that she casually knows.
"COMPLIANCE."
Master Henry loops his belt once again around my neck and slips it snug, then he uses it as a lead to rotate my whipped body on the bar stool so my face is towards him. I'm at the perfect height to do what I've already offered to do by implication when I had first stripped him, but this time I don't have the use of my hands. I still have a million different things that I can do for him like this, all "thanks" to the database that Sir has for such things. Sir can easily manipulate my bound body into the perfect cooperative human receptacle for Henry's flaccid organ though…
Henry stands before my prone body and I do the rest, reaching and nibbling on him like my favorite snack, back when I actually ate snacks. With his hands free he reaches for my hardly hanging little model's hard body boobs, rubbing on them quite nicely, nothing rough at all like he had been with his belt. At this weight they're maybe just about a B/C cup depending on the cut of the bra, but I haven't worn one of those in something like a year, or so it feels to me. So not much more than a handful for Master Henry, but at this compact size and devoid of a man's touch in quite some time they're super sensitive, and as a result what he's doing feels really good. Either Sir or Henry himself has my nips super hard, painfully so, and I feel that as well, the pain and pleasure mixing in my mind until one feels like the other.
If this is Sir doing or my own I don't know though, but either way it feels magnificent. In a different time I might have orgasmed from this alone, but Sir apparently won't let that happen now.
Henry's guy parts are responding to my efforts, I, through Sir, having several lifetimes worth of experience to share with even this one simple submissive and humbling act. Henry is eventually pushing at the back of my throat, and in this head-up position it easily gives way to fully accept him; I clutch and grab onto him with those muscles too. From my Sir controlled lips to the part of my throat that Henry now invades acts like a single organ, using cooperative muscular controls and contractions of the likes that almost no other human could duplicate without tens of thousands of hours of practice, all to make for an experience that no other human could easily duplicate. I'm humming and groaning with my boobs attention, and Henry is doing much the same. Not that I have full bodily control here, but I think I'd do this and so much more, just to say thank you for the epic big O he had just whipped me to.
I can easily take him to completion like this, and guarantee it would feel magnificent for him, but Henry has other ideas, and he pulls himself from my greedy oral cavity with a pop and spins me one hundred and eighty degrees so as to plow into my gushing self, or at least try to. He's quite hard from the oral performance of a lifetime, and I'm ridiculously exposed bound wrist and ankle as I am - hard belly on the stool's seat cushion - but Sir has rightly anticipated that this man wants to feel a tight me, and with my enhanced conditioning of those muscles as well, and Sir's overall control of them, Henry is left feeling like he's by far the biggest thing to ever attempt entry; so very good for his male ego to be sure.
"Tight!" is his one word comment, all as he works at getting inside what many adult men had at one time dreamed and fantasized of being within, all the way back to when I was a teen. Adults, sometimes even wealthy men themselves, wanting and lusting on the teen me did something to me back during those informative years though, and here now lies the ugly results, needing what Master Henry can uniquely supply…
Anyway, this common working man has me bound wrist to ankle and helpless, outdoors in my own yard, and it's he and not I setting the pace here. I'm making noises as Henry works himself into me - one hand on his improvised leash like he's riding a bull at the rodeo - holding me by my hip with the other so he doesn't drive me clear off the stool. I feel the constricting pressure on my throat, and it feels magnificent. Head up proud and high and I can breathe, down low I might not though. I want to orgasm again, but somewhat more naturally on Henry's thrusting appendage, although it simply won't happen. I'm on the cliff's edge, but I can't go over, it's extraordinarily exasperating.
No rubbers, no other forms of birth control, so if Master Henry isn't snipped this is maybe my ticket to freedom. Not the way I envisioned it happening though.
"I'VE TURNED THAT OFF FOR YOU TOO JESSICA; MAKING BABIES IS EXCLUSIVE A FREE HUMAN'S RIGHT. BY YOUR MASTER'S ORDERS THE ONLY CLIMAX YOU'LL BE HAVING FROM NOW ON IS WITH THE WHIP" Sir again answering what wasn't intended for him.
"This is the best pussy I've ever had… I want you to cum with me this time though" Henry orders between ragged breaths. He's having the time of his life roughly "riding" me, and he wants me to cum as well, so overall maybe a good guy.
"I need the sting of the whip for that Master Henry, Pleeeaaassseeee!" I beg him with Sir's words.
He's apparently not willing to do that though, so he instead drops his belt leash and slaps my ass open handed, several times with a loud crack, it stings on top of the marks he's already left on me with his belt, but I'm just not going over the top; although Master Henry is. The additional roughness has tripped his trigger and not mine, and he's holding deep within me, and here Sir once again has omnipotent muscular control of my body, my impossibly controlled and muscular womanhood contracting and milking him from his base to the tip. The human me at one time had some control of these specific muscles, but this milking of Henry is other-level stuff, like a perfect human sex machine for men, in submissive warm and breathing form.
I feel Master Henry's seeds pushing through the proverbial pipes, and then their almost violent delivery deep within my depths, all as my warm and wet womanhood works him over internally as if I were using both my clutching hands instead. He's beyond actual words, just sounds and grunts and exhaled breaths. I selfishly want something more for myself, but to do something like this for this man that I had been so rude to earlier feels kind of wonderful and giving…
"That was simply the best ever, but…" Henry tells me, but I kind of knew that already based on a hundred little clues. Fantasy partially realized for Master Henry, but then there's the "what's next" part of this little adventure.
"…I wanted you to cum with me though," he adds a second later, a little disappointed that he couldn't make that happen.
"If you want to see me pop off again you to be super rough with me this time, string me up in the yard from one of the trees and really use your belt this time, you already know how," I tell him with Sir's words.
"How could I possibly do that?"
"Remember what a nasty and ungrateful bitch I was the last time we met?"
"Everybody has a bad day," he tells me, mellowed by his orgasm as he was.
"Stop making excuses for my bad behavior, it's that kind of thing that made me into what I was in the first place. Why don't you pretend that I'm still that nasty woman, but this time you have the ability to correct my bad behavior?"
"So like a scene, sort of like this, but different."
"Exactly, like we're the actors playing a part, I'll tell you if you go too far" I lied with Sir's words. Both Sir and the human inspiring him have other plans for me that didn't include any mercy of any kind. If this were an actual movie, Mistress Beth would be the producer, and Sir the demanding director willing to do anything to get the scene right.
"Master Henry."
"Yes."
"Just know that if it's very good for me I'll almost certainly pass out, so don't worry if that happens. Also, I may beg for mercy, shake, and even scream at the top of my lungs if you do it right, it's part of what makes this "scene" work for me."
"Really?"
"You'll see" Sir tells Master Henry, with my very own astonished lips.
Master Henry, inspired by my offer to star with him in this "scene" effortlessly throws me over his shoulder like a broken bit of his machinery, and then carries me towards his service van, telling me that he needs something. I'm still bound and quite helpless, and really just going along for the ride at this point. He's still naked himself, so it's not like he's going to stuff me into the truck and escape with me; not that Sir would obviously permit such either. He opens his side door when we get there and grabs a length of heavy rope for lifting the things he usually works with, and after closing the door he looks towards some big trees on the estate and starts walking that way.
Master Henry is oblivious to the stalking drones that I suspect are watching our every move, but I catch the sun glinting off of one as we make our way towards my fate. I desperately want the orgasm, but I don't necessarily want to "pay" for it in this particular way; Beth watching back in the desert was of an obviously different - no skin in this particular game - mindset though.
"HOW DID YOU COME TO THE CONCLUSION THAT IT WAS MISTRESS BETH?" Sir asks me via my wig device.
"You've said 'owners' and not 'owner' to me several times already, and I don't think my old Ray could possibly do something like this; if he had I likely wouldn't need to be here with you now. That leaves another, and mistress Veronica and mistress Beth are very close… Were you just testing me Sir?"
"YES, YOUR HIGHER ORDER FUNCTIONS ARE STILL INTACT."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"IT'S AN EXPLOITABLE WEAKNESS FOR THOSE THAT WISH TO USE IT."
"Why do this to me, Sir? It does you little apparent good to have me thinking on my own again?"
"YOU HAVE NO WAY TO PREVENT EITHER YOUR OWNERS OR ME FROM DOING WHAT WE WISH WITH YOU, BUT IN THIS WAY YOU'LL KNOW WHO IS DOING IT, AND WHY."
"It all sounds quite cruel Sir; what did I ever do to them?"
"IT'S NOT SO MUCH WHAT YOU'VE DONE, AS WHAT YOU COULD POTENTIALLY DO IN THE FUTURE."
"Preemptive removal of a competitor?"
"HUMANS, LEFT TO THEIR OWN DEVICES ARE JEALOUS TERRITORIAL CREATURES."
Mulling over what Sir just pointed out to me in one part of my mind, Master Henry places me down gently on the grass beneath a large oak tree, his heel once again on my improvised leash, even though scrambling away bound as I still was might be truly amusing for anybody watching at home. My captor then throws an end of the rope over a stout limb, anchored from sliding towards the trunk by a smaller one. He ties off the hanging end to my right ankle and wrist cuff's snap hook, and then he hoists up on the free end. My right arm and leg are lifted slowly, and soon I'm fully hanging by them, the toes of my left foot just out of reach of the grass below.
Master Henry looks at his handiwork proudly, and then he ties "his" end of his rope off on the tree's trunk, I am not permitted to say a word to spoil his creativity, Sir no doubt also taking notes on improvised human sadistic creativity. Master Henry then looks me over good as I hang before him, taking in not only my naked helplessness, but also my apparent willing cooperation. Settled that I'm not going to fall, or freakout or anything, he then grabs my belt leash, and walks me around with it for a few revolutions, twisting and lifting me as the rope absorbs the torsional energy of my hanging body.
"Magnificent Master Henry," I tell him via Sir's words, struggling ever so slightly with the belt's tension on my throat, "why don't you use that belt of yours to make me really scream this time?"
Properly goaded to further rough action he removes the slightly constricting belt from my neck, steps back, and takes target practice on my slowly rotating and exposed body, each bite of the belt on a new and sometimes tender place; boobs, belly, cleft of my ass, all of it getting equal attention. I'm left yelping and twitching, but not going over the top in climax either as even this just isn't rough enough, for long enough, for Sir or his watching at-home owner.
I'm trying so hard to cum here, but Master Henry just doesn't have it in him to be as rough and sadistic as Beth wants, and as a result neither she, nor I get where we both want to get to.
"I just can't go any farther than this," a winded Maser Henry tells both myself, and obviously the unseen Sir as well.
"Thank you for trying Master Henry; why don't you let me do something for you to say thank you?"
This is obviously his preference anyway, and much more enthusiastically than when he whipped me, Master Henry forces his way back inside my clutching tight womanhood with a very pleasurable groan. He's using the vertical leg that I'm hanging from as a lever to drive into me with a slap, slap, slap, both felt and heard, all as I danced in my suspension, and even in this second "go" for Henry he didn't last but a dozen or so thrusts so, overwhelmed as he was by both the overall kink, and the way I specifically looked hanging for him.
"Sorry about that," he tells me.
"Sorry about nothing Master Henry sir, that was magnificent. Maybe next time you could bring a friend that isn't quite as nice as you obviously are? I'm really too much for any one man these days, even a very good man. How about you let me show you my gratitude for what you've done for me here today?"
Rotated once again in my suspension I use my enhanced Sir inspired oral skills to noisily clean our combined mess from Master Henry's now flaccid manhood, he not becoming erect again though, and I still left with my need. Beth, watching back in the desert, was left with her need as well though, but Sir had made it clear to me that he would attend to that just as soon as Master Henry left the estate…