Puppet Ch. 04

Story Info
Man wants to free a beloved puppet. Final Part.
5.7k words
4.18
29.6k
6

Part 4 of the 4 part series

Updated 10/08/2022
Created 02/07/2004
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Imad sat in the control room, exhausted, not having slept in the three days since the system glitch, the glitch he refused to believe had just been a glitch. He strolled through his network searching for the proof that his system had been hacked, but couldn't find it. All he found was the poor security. Any hacker could get into his network and mess around. The question then was why would somebody want to hack into his network. He knew he had to have been hacked. All that had happened was the communication with the puppets and the security system had been shut down for about a minute. That didn't seem like a glitch. It seemed like a targeted attack. But why?

Frustrated, Imad unplugged and sank into his chair. He ran his hand over his bald head and closed his eyes, trying to think of a solution, how to find the hacker, and why had they done it. In the meantime he had already increased his network security. The only way somebody was going to get in now was with some advanced virus and he didn't have anything that was worth the money to get that type of virus.

He opened his eyes to slits and peered at the stacks of monitors in front of him. The parlor was quiet now, early morning, and most customers were gone. Most of the girls were sleeping, some were awake, all resting. His eyes moved from one girl to the next, studying each of them, comparing their hair, their breasts, their legs, height, weight. He had a fine collection, something for everybody, any taste a person had and he could satisfy it.

But still, there was the one. Always his eyes were drawn back to her, now sitting in her room, stretched out on her bed, wearing a short sheer nightie, staring blankly at her video wall, her eyes almost closed. This was her day off and she would spend it mostly watching videos, sleeping, and if she found the energy, a trip to the workout room.

Imad unloosened his pants, letting his cock harden, as his eyes roamed over Valerie's body. She was his prize possession, his most expensive, most beautiful. He remembered the day she had been brought to him. The woman had come wearing a Muslim shawl, only her eyes peeking through, Valerie's hand clamped in her own, dragging her through the door. He could tell Valerie was doped, but still she fought. She had known where her mother was taking her. One look at her and he knew he had to have her, but he tried to hide his interest. But the woman had known.

Imad stared into the space left by the woman's shawl to see if she had the same skin, hair, and eyes, but couldn't tell. The woman's eyes were brown, but those could have been contacts, her skin and eyebrows were dark, but they could have been dyed. Valerie had just turned twenty and her mother had had enough of her, saying she was reckless and loose, and if she wanted to be that way she might as well make some money doing it.

Imad paid a lot for her, more than any other puppet. The woman had seen the money transferred to her account and left without saying a final goodbye to her daughter, just left.

He had Valerie outfit with the best in puppet technology, knowing the torture she would endure and wanting to protect her mind, keep her as long as he could. He had only expected three years out of her, at best, and had been surprised to get more.

His hand slid down to stroke his cock as he watched her stretching, her body so tight and lean, not starting to collect fat or become loose like usually happened. Yes, she was his favorite. He watched her, forgetting the glitch, forgetting security problems, just watching, and wanting.

-

Valerie watched the flickering images across the video wall and couldn't make sense of them. It meant nothing to her, images of places she hadn't seen, and she supposed would never see. She had almost forgotten what the world was like outside the parlor. She had been here for so many years and seemed had many more to go to payoff Imad. He took such a large cut of her pay for room and board that the bit left over could only pay the interest on the loan for her puppet rig. She couldn't leave until that was paid off. She was paying for something she had never even wanted. But it was the only way to get out of here.

She considered not taking any days off, trying to work everyday to earn the money to get free, but she didn't think her mind or body could take it. She needed at least two days off a week, any less and she found it hard to move or think at all.

She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling chilly, but not wanting to cover up, letting the cold penetrate her skin. She slid her hands over her arms, feeling the goose bumps, and shivered. This place was so cold, sterile, no warmth or light. Everything was artificial and nothing was real. The images on the wall didn't seem real. The bed, the stuffed animals, herself, none of it was real.

She closed her eyes, shutting her thoughts down, and pictured him, the man she thought that for an instant she had seen, a face that seemed so familiar. The man hovering over her, thrusting into her madly, bring her to an intense orgasm, and for a second she could have sworn she could remember him, that she had wakened and seen him. She knew it was the man who always came to her and treated her like he loved her, made her come, made her feel good, made her feel real. She sighed, focusing on that face, recalling his scent, and wished that just once she could be with him and just be real.

-

Taylor sat in his hover in an alley a block away from Imad's Pleasure Palace. He stared at his handheld computer screen. It was finally time, time to free her and take her home. He saw he had a connection. She was in her room and she wasn't programmed. She was conscious, as he had expected since it was her day off.

All he had to do was load the program he had already written, telling her to walk out to him. That was it. Then, he could take her somewhere secret, shut her down, and replace her chip with one that Imad couldn't trace. She would be free then, out of Imad's control, and back with him.

He sighed, wondering if she would really be back with him. Would she even want to be with him? After what he had done? His heart ached hoping that she would stay with him. He couldn't stand it if she left him again. He had almost died the first time. He surely would a second time.

But at the same time did he even deserve to have her back? He had fucked up. Hell, he had been fucking up ever since that time. But he had always told himself it was because he had to, because he loved her, because he needed her, and he wanted to help her. He had to. He wouldn't have to do it anymore. But would he still want to?

His hand shook as he stared at the screen, waiting for him, waiting for his command. All he had to do was load the program. That was it. Then, nothing would be the same again.

-

When the door opened, the burst of air blowing across her, Valerie knew who it would be without even looking. The only people able to enter her room were her, a customer during his allotted time, and Imad. It was her day off and she was conscious so it had to be Imad.

She turned her head to see him standing just inside of her room, light from the hallway outlining his huge form, shadows obscuring his face. He was breathing heavily, his hands were clenched into fists at his side. He took another step forward and she saw his cock, standing huge and erect straight out from his body. Her eyes grew bigger staring at it, wide and long, with two spines running down the sides of it. He had an implant.

"Hi, Imad," she said, her voice shaky.

He shouldn't be doing this. He wasn't supposed to fuck her, at least not conscious. That was the deal. She couldn't imagine having that thing inside of her, so huge and grotesque.

The door closed behind him and he took another step forward, the light from the window spilling across him. His body was tense, his muscles, not grafted muscles like the guards at the parlor, bulged out of his tight shirt and pants. His black lenses peered down at her and she shrank back from that gaze. She hated not being able to see his eyes.

"Valerie..." he started and then kneeled on the bed, moving towards her. "I want to fuck you. Now."

"But, Imad," she stuttered, sliding across the bed, moving towards the edge, feeling his heat, his breath roll over her, like a wild bull about to charge over her. "I'm not under. You can't...It's my day off."

"I don't care. You're mine. I want to fuck you." His voice was flat like a machine, spitting out short, passionless phrases, no feeling or desire, just blank facts.

"Imad, please," she pleaded, feeling tears starting to well up in her eyes.

"I will fuck you." He reached out and his hand fell on her bare thigh, gripping her painfully tight.

The pain sizzled through her brain and she knew what was going to happen. There was no way to avoid it. He was going to fuck her. He would rape her if she tried to stop him. He would hit her if she struggled. Then, he would enter her, dry and tight, and it would hurt. He'd tear her up and she'd bleed. It was going to happen whether she wanted it to or not.

She closed her eyes, pushing the tears away, trying to force her body to relax, and she laid her hand on his, gently.

"Okay," she muttered and opened her eyes to look into those swirling black lenses. "Okay, just, please, just give me a second."

He hovered over her, his body tense, about to jump her if she made any move. She caressed his hand and forced herself to smile up at him. She tucked her hair behind her ears, flirting with him, trying to soften that aggression.

"Okay," he muttered and kneeled on the bed, moving closer to her.

She looked down at his cock and fought the urge to run. Had she had that thing in her before? She was sure she had. She knew he fucked all of his puppets with that thing. But none had ever said anything about how big it was. She had assumed he fucked them all when they were under, not when they were conscious.

Her horror turned to fascination as she brought her hand towards it, wanting to touch those spines along the sides. He didn't move as her fingers lightly touched it underneath and then moved over the sides. She traced her fingers down the length of one of the rods down to the base of his cock and back up to the tip. She could feel how the rod tapered out at the end and how it telescoped out, extending and stretching this humongous cock out to this length. She saw his cock as some strange organism, not as a part of this man.

She felt his hand relax on her thigh as she slid her fingers underneath his cock. He sighed softly, his breathing slowing down as he started to relax. She wrapped her hand around it, not even coming close to completely encircling it, and slid her hand up it, feeling it taper slightly as she moved up to the head. It jumped in her hand as she stroked the tip.

It was too big and though she knew he thought she was stroking him as foreplay, she wasn't. She couldn't stand to have this thing inside of her while she was conscious. She couldn't get turned on by it. It was fascinating to sit here and stroke it, but it was still terrifying to think of it inside of her. He could fuck her for hours with it, coming over and over again, until he had worn himself out. She couldn't take that.

So, she did the only thing she could think of. She slid down the bed, opened her mouth wide, and sucked on it. She almost gagged as she felt those hard spines sliding along the corners of her mouth. It even had a slight taste of metal.

He held still, watching her, as she slid her lips down the length of it until it pressed against her throat, knowing it would be impossible to take him in entirely and hoping he didn't try to force it into her.

-

Taylor watched as light crept into the alleyway. The sun was starting to rise, breaking through the layers of smog. He knew that now was the time. Now everybody at the parlor should be asleep and people wouldn't be out on the streets going to work for about another hour. It was the perfect time.

He touched the screen, sending the program into Valerie's chip and turning her on. Now she just had to walk out of the parlor and to his hover as the program told her to do and she'd be free, she'd be with him again.

Then why did he feel like he had just lost her?

-

Imad curled his hands into Valerie's hair as she slid her mouth over his cock, her lips gripping him tightly, her mouth open wide. She wouldn't take much of it into her mouth. She was afraid. He could see that. She was hoping that she could placate him by sucking him off. Let her think that for now. Let her play her little game. But he'd be fucking her soon. He'd have those lovely legs pinned behind her ears as he fucked that little pussy.

She stopped. Imad looked down at her. Her body was still as if it was frozen in place, her eyes wide, staring through him.

"Hey," he said and shook her head, urging her to start sucking him again. "Come on bitch. This ain't time for a break."

Later, he would tell himself he should have known what was happening. But then it hadn't seemed possible. Still he should have known. He had seen a puppet go under many times. He should have known. But he was tired. He was horny. He wasn't thinking straight.

When she finally did move her head again she tried to pull back and he held her there. Then, he smiled as he pulled her against him, stuffing his cock into her throat. Her eyes flickered up to look at him and he could see they were different. They had that wide-eyed, glossy look of a puppet that's in stasis. He should have seen that. But the sight of that pretty, white face sucking on his cock was just too distracting.

He finally knew something was wrong when he saw her jaw clench and then felt her teeth sinking into his cock. It hurt. Fuck, did it hurt. He screamed. He couldn't remember ever having screamed in his life. It didn't sound right. It sounded like someone else was screaming.

Looking back he almost thought himself lucky. The implanted rods stopped her from penetrating too far. If her teeth had met he would have had to get a complete implant, nothing would be his. But as it turned out her teeth bit into those rods and he was able to rebuild with what he had.

When she let him go he fell onto his side and kept screaming, his hands wrapped around his bleeding cock. There was nothing else but that pain. For minutes on end there was just that pain. He couldn't move, could barely breathe, couldn't think, just laid there until his screams became a whimper, and finally a guard saw him on the monitor in the control room and came to help him.

By that time Valerie was gone. She wasn't in her room and when they searched the parlor they couldn't find her. Replaying the videos from the cameras showed her leaving out the back door. The puppet chip should have shut her down then, automatically, but it didn't.

Days later when Imad came out of surgery he was told they couldn't track her. Her signal was gone. Either she had died or removed the chip. She was gone. They'd probably never find her.

Imad said nothing. He gave himself time to heal and went back to his parlor with a new fury. He knew she was alive. The hack job on his network had been done to free her. She was alive somewhere. And he'd find her. And he'd find who was responsible. And nothing would contain his fury then.

-

Taylor was in his home, sitting in a chair, staring at Valerie sitting on the couch across from him. She was free now. She was in his home. She was back. She sat perfectly still, still under, her programming just telling her to do what he said, so she did nothing.

At first when Taylor saw Valerie approaching his hover he was relieved. She had made it out. He watched her approach and then get inside while looking for someone following her, but saw no one. As he drove out of the alley he glanced over at her. She sat perfectly still, staring out of the window, with blood smeared across her mouth and dripping down onto her chest. He drove faster, afraid of what she had done.

He asked her how she got blood on her. She said she bit his dick. He asked whose dick she bit. She said Imad. Then, he was really afraid. What the hell had happened? She hadn't been under when he sent the program. Imad must have been messing with her while she was conscious. Then, he realized that with Imad incapacitated that would make escape easier. The only person he worried about at the parlor was Imad. His goons wouldn't even know to start looking for her.

He pulled into another alley and flipped on the interior lights to work on her. He shut her down, removed her chip, tossed it out the window, and then inserted a new one that he would only be able to control. He programmed her to listen to his commands and left her under, wanting to get her home and relaxed before bringing her back. He didn't want to shock her or give her any distress. She'd be disoriented so it would be best to bring her back under good conditions. He got her back to his home, had her wash, put on fresh clothes, and got her comfortable sitting in his living room.

He held his computer in his hand, ready to bring her back, and realized that he didn't want to. Part of him wanted her to stay like this, always waiting for him, obeying him. He was disgusted by it, but that was the truth. He was afraid that once she saw him, recognized him, then she'd just leave. He couldn't stand to lose her again.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He touched the screen and turned off her puppet chip. He opened his eyes and slouched down in his chair, watching her, waiting.

She groaned and rubbed her eyes. She looked around the room, taking it in, trying to figure out where she was, and her eyes came back to him, those big, beautiful, blue eyes rested on him, and then he saw she recognized him, but her eyes slanted, questioning, as if she didn't believe it.

"Daddy?" she said.

-

He could remember that day five years ago. He remembered standing in her bedroom doorway, watching Valerie sleep. The covers were pulled up just over her breasts, her bare shoulder glimmering in the moonlight. His heart ached like he was so filled with love for her that it hurt, so beautiful and precious.

He had been out drinking again, using the bars as an excuse to avoid his wife, Janice, and his daughter to whom he was becoming strangely attracted. Janice had converted to Islam to join the majority of the people in the city, but she wanted to practice an extreme form of the religion. She had been pressuring him to do the same. He refused. He didn't have any religion and didn't want one.

He no longer desired his wife, but he did desire his daughter. He tried to fight it, but he felt that he couldn't help it. He'd lost all resistance. She was beautiful. She had the look that few women had, the hair, the skin, the eyes, beautiful and rare. And she was smart. She was free-spirited. She made him feel young. She reminded him of Janice before she went crazy.

So, he stood in that doorway, drunk, confused, beaten, and he wanted to be with her. He could think only of being with her, lying in that bed, feeling her warmth. Then, he stepped into her room. He stripped his clothes off as he walked to her bed, being very quiet. He still wasn't thinking about sex. He just wanted to be in bed with her, lie there with her, naked, intimate. It seemed so right.

He slid under the covers and he moved behind her. He spooned up to her, feeling her warm, smooth young body against him, and it did feel right, like it was meant to be, like they were made for each other. He dared to touch her, bringing his hand over her hair, her shoulder, a milky white and soft. She stirred little as he caressed her, touched her, started kissing her lightly, her shoulder, her back, her neck.

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