Bankrupt Ch. 02

Though we were much the same height, she seemed to loom above me. Frightening and powerful. It was as if I had already acknowledged her as being superior to me. Or was that a function of the chip, forcing me to place myself beneath my free peers? I really needed to learn more about how these things worked.

"Here," she said, pulling out a piece of paper, "is my number." She wrote quickly. "Call me when you're going to be free. I do suggest that you memorize it. Wouldn't want that scary old master to start asking questions, would you?"

"Right," I said as I took the paper. Already, I was resigned to the fact that I was going to call her.

"A shame, really," she said wistfully, "that I wasn't rich enough to buy you myself. You haven't got the slightest clue what to do with your tongue, but I'd have loved to train you.

"Ah well," she said as she lunged forward to give me a surprise peck on the lips. "Guess I'll just have to make it a hobby. See you later, sweet tits, I've got work to do."

She left as fast as she'd came, and I just stood there staring at the paper. "Hope", it said across the top. She'd never bothered to give me her name before forcing me to go down on her. Was I really going to call her again? Could I afford not to? Questions for later. There was reading to do, and little time to do it.

At the very least, Hope had been true to her word about the research. Before she'd left, she had come up with nearly two dozen books and articles, sorted in order of importance. I skimmed over the collection quickly, conscious of how little time I had. More than half were heavy technical papers, all of which assumed an understanding of biology and electronics that went way over my head. Another handful were sociological studies that dealt more with the effects of the chips upon society, thought Hope had helpfully highlighted chapters that discussed their workings at a more basic level.

I decided to start on one of the informational pamphlets, hoping that it might be a good place to start for someone who had no clue what they were doing. No such luck. Turns out, it was an old, withdrawn pamphlet meant for newly chipped students, and it proved a laughably useless piece of propaganda. It was full of gems like:

"In the old days, people were sometimes sad because they didn't want to be obedient. But now we have The Chip. It sits in your head sending happy, helpful pulses whenever you think good thoughts. So make sure you think lots of good, obedient thoughts, and before you know it you'll be nice and used to your new situation."

Yeah, real helpful, thanks for that one. Like I'm going to sit here and think happy thoughts so I can help that smug shit fry my brain even faster. Then again, I had just spent most of the morning frigging myself to the idea of being his subservient little fuckslave.

Shit! My hands were back between my legs. I was doing it again.

Ok, time for the next book. To my surprise, it was one of the history books that actually had the first useful passage.

"-From the beginning, the idea of chipped spies proved irresistibly tempting. By planting spies within the ranks of newly inducted slaves, a nation could freely insert personelle into even the most secure of places. With their loyalty considered above reproach, an enslaved spy could bypass many of the checks that would catch a normal agent. Unfortunately, said loyalty proved even stronger than anticipated. As the Fushun Incident proved, nations had every reason to have faith in their chipped spies. That first generation was made up of intelligent, independent minded agents, yet still suffered a nearly a one hundred percent defection rate. Despite improved training methods, failure rates continued to exceed thirty percent (See also: The Lima Affair).

"Particularly damaging were those whose chips used honor or duty as a focal anchor. As can be imagined, agencies relied heavily on the agents' sense of duty to see them through the process. With that suborned, compromised agents soon saw it as their duty to divulge any classified information they had available. Though steps were taken to limit the damage, these failures continued to hamper intelligence efforts for decades to come. Even the less dangerous foci often saw their agents' identities subsumed by their slave role. Though in many of those cases their owners did not discover what they possessed for years to come."

If nothing else, it gave me a new term to look for: "Focal Anchor". I found it hiding away in the back of a textbook glossary.

"Each chip is keyed to a single primary emotion or drive. By careful and constant manipulation of this anchoring emotion, the chip is able to modulate subject behavior. In time, the subject is conditioned such that the focal anchor centers fully around the owning entity, ensuring willing compliance with all directives."

Two guesses what Victor had picked for his focal anchor, and I can tell you right now that it sure as hell wasn't fond respect. No, the fact that I'd spent the day getting myself off made it all too clear what he'd chosen. That clever bastard. Why settle for doing one thing, when you can do three at once. In his choice of anchor, he'd not only taken control of me, but done it in a way that humiliated me at the same time. All while getting his own sick gratification out of it.

There was no question that it was working. I'd been under for all of what, a day? But already the idea of submitting to him seemed like the hottest thing in the world. I hated the bastard, but I couldn't wait until it was time to get out of here so that I could feel my leash in his hand as he thought up new and exciting ways to use me.

... I was doing it again there, wasn't I?

Shit!

Something was tugging at the back of my mind, though. Something I had missed. I returned to the passages, trying to tease out what had caught my attention. Or was I just wasting my time? Was the chip trying to sabotage my efforts, making me return to useless passages I had already looked over? How was I supposed to get anywhere when I couldn't even trust my mind?

No, wait, there it was! I reread the passage about chipped spies, the one that had taught me about anchors. I'd been so excited about those that I'd missed the important bit: "Despite improved training methods". That meant there was a way to resist it. Sure, nearly a third failed, but the important point was that it could be done. If they could defeat it through training alone, then so could I. I just needed to learn how.

Before I could get any further, my alarm rang. It was time, Victor would be expecting me.

I stared longingly at my research. I was so close, if I only had more time to read. It was no use. I wanted to continue studying, but I needed to obey Victor. As I rushed towards his classroom, the anticipation took on a life of its own. Before long, I found myself jogging, my leash swaying from side to side with every step. I drew stares, of course, but I was used to that. It didn't matter. I needed to see him as soon as possible.

I needed him.

Considering my hurry, it was no surprise that I made it well before the class let out. At first my heavy breathing was from my frantic sprint, but it didn't take long until it came from another source entirely. Although Victor was still nowhere to be seen, I was already turned on in the extreme. Here I was, waiting hand and foot upon his pleasure, and it was the hottest thing in the world.

Almost, anyway. Things wouldn't get really hot until Victor arrived.

The first sight of Victor was like a bucket of cool water splashed onto the face of a poor desert wanderer. I wept tears of joy to see him, knowing full well that it was absurd that I should miss him so, but feeling it regardless.

"Have you been a good pet," he asked in full view of the entire gawking class, taking the leash from my outstretched hands.

"Yes, master," I told him, biting down the twinge of guilt at my library trip. I started to speak, but luckily he interrupted me before I had a chance.

"Good girl," he said, patting me on the head.

I smiled uncontrollably. His praise meant everything to me. It wasn't hard to see how a slave could be seduced into true surrender. I had to find a way to free myself from this torture. Just... not quite yet.

As a reward, he allowed me to follow on my two feet this time. Trailing after like the slave I was, yes, but as a person, not a pet. He spent the rest of the day and night parading me in front of his friends like a new toy, and once we returned to his room he used me like one.

I loved every second of it.

That night I cried myself to sleep, but also masturbated all the while. Hope's number ran through my head, and I knew that I would call her. She wanted to use me, yes, and I would let her. The difference was, after she was done using me, there might be something of myself left over. After Victor finished, I wasn't so sure.

Oh, but what a blissful loss it would be.