Botted

The sun's rays danced on Sarah's closed eyelids, reaching her through the window. Her eyelids fluttered before opening. Sarah closed her eyes immediately as pain pierced her skull. She groaned and turned around, touching her forehead. The pain seemed to subside until it disappeared. Sarah opened her right eye slowly and then her left. Her body ached all over, but she seemed to be in one piece. Her mouth was desert dry and she needed some water. She needed a shower too. Sarah sat up and looked around her. There was some serious mess around her. She swallowed hard as she thought of last night. This must all have been a reaction to the nanobots, probably some inflammation from her immune system, detecting the foreign material. She considered going to an E.R., but what would she say? "Listen Doc, you're not going to believe it, but I'm a human Genoa pig"? Sarah looked at the clock on the wall. It was five a.m. The bots have probably reached everywhere in her body by now. She was full of them. Regardless, she had to get to work.

Sarah stood unsteadily, leaning against a wall. She started to walk towards the bathroom slowly, gaining confidence with every step. She reached the bathroom, stripped and took a long shower, letting the hot water rinse her body. After thirty minutes she left for her bedroom and got dressed. Just before taking her bag, she decided to take a look in the mirror and check if all of last night's signs have gone away.

Sarah looked at her reflection. She turned her face left and right and then nodded approvingly. She smiled at herself but stopped as she felt the tickle. It wasn't much but it was noticeable. It came from her lips. Sarah leaned across the sink until her breath condensed on the mirror. Her lips looked different. They looked redder, fuller. They seemed different from her own. Have the bots affected her brain? Was she hallucinating? Sarah raised her hands and touched her upper lip. She gasped and pulled her hand away. Her lip felt like a bag of worms. Sarah straightened her back. She was probably imagining things. It also could have been unrelated to the bots. Perhaps an insect had stung her when she had been unconscious. Perhaps her lips were traumatized when she fell. Yeah, that was probably it.

Sarah left the bedroom, took her bag and left the apartment. When she reached Klass Biotech, Patricia looked at her quizzically. She said, "Have you done something with your..." and reached her hand to her own lips. Sarah looked down and mumbled, "Allergic reaction" as she walked briskly to the elevators.

Sarah began her workday. She had been assigned to a new project and beginnings were always difficult. She met her superiors in the team. She had to read a lot and catch up with the rest of the researchers. She had to get acquainted with the new lab and equipment, and she had to do everything as fast as possible. The rest of her team won't wait up for her. It was nearing noon when she first felt the pain. It started small, almost imperceptible. It was easy to ignore, but like a pebble in your shoe, it kept on nagging, growing bigger, stabbing. Sarah was talking to a colleague when she could bear it no longer and reached for her back while twisting her mouth.

Her colleague raised her brows. "Are you alright, Sarah?"

Sarah attempted to smile. "Yes, could you excuse me please?"

Sarah went to the lavatory. The pain was now excruciating. She felt like reaching her back and tearing it apart. When she reached the lavatory, she was already running. Sarah pushed the door and ran to one of the stalls, drawing attention from a woman washing her hands. Sarah locked herself in and unbuttoned her blouse as quickly as she could. She knew what was hurting her. She reached both her hands to her back and unclasped her bra. The bra's clasp was pushing against her back, tearing into her skin. Sarah closed her eyes and sighed in relief as she massaged her aching back where her bra's clasp had been. It felt better now; way better. Sarah opened her eyes and saw her bra had fallen to the floor. She started to bend and pick the bra up when she noticed it. No wonder her bra was so tight. Her breasts were bigger.

Sarah looked down at her breasts. There was no question about it. Those weren't her breasts. They had swollen and risen somehow. The bra had kept them restrained, but now that they broke free, she noticed the change. Her breasts curved up from her chest like two beach balls touching each other. There had always been a gap between her breasts but now it was gone. Sarah never had a real cleavage, but now a bird could nest in hers.

Sarah cupped her breasts from beneath them as if she was holding delicate glasses. Her areolas were bigger and dark. The nipples were erect and looked like thimbles more than her own button shaped ones. Sarah wanted to pinch herself and make sure she wasn't dreaming. This couldn't be happening. She thought she had imagined her lips wee changing, but now this ridiculous pair... Sarah gawked at her erect nipples. She wanted to see if they swarmed like her lips. Sarah moved her hands, holding her breasts from the front. She slowly reached for her nipples with her thumbs, touching them. It felt like a current running through her. She automatically semi-squatted, spreading her legs, still holding her new assets, her face grimacing. Sarah leaned her back against the stall's door. She began squeezing her tits and massaging them. She closed her eyes and moaned as her palms spread, pushing her breasts together. Sarah's back rubbed against the door as she rose and crouched repeatedly, riding an imaginary horse. Her groin started to signal her when she bumped her head against the door knob. Sarah cried out and opened her eyes. It took her a couple of minutes to stop trembling and breathing hard. What the hell had just happened? Something was definitely wrong, but she felt relaxed as if she had just woken up from a power nap. Sarah picked up her bra and shoved it into her pants' pocket. She put on her shirt and did her best to squeeze her breasts back into it. The buttons stretched under the new load.

Sarah's mind raced. She could not ignore this any longer. These were definitely the bots. There was no medical condition, no hallucination, no prank or any other phenomenon that could explain the changes. This wasn't supposed to happen. The bots were just supposed to flow in her blood stream. Were they hacked somehow? Did the contact with her blood activate them some way? What the hell was going to happen next? Is she turning into some kind of monster? She needed answers and fast.

Sarah closed the bathroom stall and hurried out of the restroom. She snuck a look at the large mirror on the wall. She looked like a whore in that tight shirt engulfing her new pair of tits. Sarah made her way to her lab as discreetly as possible, taking the stairs, reckoning there was a lower chance of meeting someone she knew. She opened the door to her floor and almost ran to the laboratory. Once inside, she sat near a computer terminal. She looked around, making sure no one was looking at her and logged on to the company's state of the at artificial intelligence system. Words showed up on the screen.

Computer: Good morning, Dr. Lev. How can I be of assistance?

Sarah: Run event records from my former laboratory yesterday.

The computer complied and Sarah sifted through the event logs. Most of them were concerned with archiving and shutting down, but then something jumped up. Although she had not performed any experiments at all, the records showed a we-7 class experiment was conducted. Sarah clicked on the experiment's headline.

Sarah: What code was used to program the bots?

Computer: Priority one -- user code -- no code given.

Priority two- default code. All codes have been erased.

Priority three -- Network code. Network code had been applied according to source found online.

Sarah gazed at the screen, unbelieving. This wasn't a hack. Someone accidentally started an experiment setting and the bots looked for instructions. Sarah swallowed hard. She felt perspiration chilling her forehead. There was no turning back now.

Sarah: Show code's source.

Sarah frowned, knotting her brows, as the webpage started loading. Her perplexion turned quickly into fear and then to panic as the bright colors appeared on the screen. The screen showed various sentences in bright colors and big fonts. The title of the page was "MILFucker". Beneath the title the screen blinked pink letters: "Please, can I have some cock?", but Sarah's panic reached its peak only when she noticed something else. Her stomach twisted into knots and she felt her heart drumming in her chest. Her hands shook over the keyboard. The last item to load on the screen was a computer generated image of a woman. The woman was smiling and licking her full red lips. Her eyes twinkled playfully. She wore a short skirt revealing long legs. One of her hands held the edge of her skirt, raising it up. Her other hand reached beneath the skirt. The woman's chest was bare. She had an impressive pair of tits. They looked just like Sarah's breasts. Her lips looked just like Sarah's lips. The realization hit Sarah with the force of a race car hitting a wall. The bots were changing her and were using a pornographic website as an instruction manual.

Sarah: How long before the bots finish running the code?

Computer: Estimated time of CPU usage is six hours.

Sarah's hands shook so bad it took her a full minute to type her question.

Sarah: How do I stop the bots?

The computer's hard drive buzzed to life. The computer was trying to find similar cases, run possibilities and scenarios, but at last gave Sarah the answer she had already known.

Computer: Once bots have been deployed, changing programming is impossible. The bots will run the code to completion.

Waves of nausea and dizziness hit Sarah. The room started closing in on her. She had no idea what to do. There was no one to turn to. She couldn't talk to her colleagues without betraying her secret. She needed time. She needed space. She needed resources. Her entire world was crumbling and she couldn't do anything about it.

Sarah stood up on wobbly feet. She had to leave the room. She had to leave the building. She needed time to think and analyze. Sarah searched for the head of her new team and mumbled something about not feeling well and taking a day off. He told her it was quite alright and that she did look a little sick. He wished her well and told her to call him if she needed anything. Sarah was pretty sure he didn't know how to stop nanobots.

Sarah drove home as fast as she could. Perhaps she could think of something. No one knew nanobots like she did. She couldn't just give up. She had to try. Sure, she had done a mistake, but there could still be a way out.

Sarah entered her apartment, slamming the door like a storm. She practically ran to her computer and started searching the web for information. There must have been some precedent for shutting nanobots remotely. There was that Japanese company that was always one step behind Bioklass. Perhaps they had published something. Sarah sank into her work. After all, that was her comfort zone.

At first it wasn't so bad. Sarah barely noticed it, and it certainly didn't interrupt her work. She kept typing frantically, but then it came back, like an itch you can't scratch. This time she couldn't ignore it. Sarah tried to concentrate on the screen in front of her. She tried crossing her legs, but it didn't help. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps it wasn't connected to the bots. She uncrossed her legs and then crossed them again. Something was definitely happening. The weird sensation she had felt in her lips a few hours earlier was back, only it wasn't her lips this time. It was her groin.

On one hand, sarah was afraid to look, but on the other hand, she had to know. Sarah stood up and unbuttoned her jeans, letting them fall to her ankles. Her underwear followed suit. The problem was her ridiculous breasts; they blocked her field of vision. Sarah stepped out of her jeans and clothes. She sat on her chair and wrapped her legs on the armrests, improvising a gynecological examination chair. She looked at her groin. Her hand reached her mouth, stifling a scream. She stared down, mesmerized like a dear caught in a car's headlights.

All of her pubic hair was gone. It wasn't shaved or cut. There was no rash. It was simply gone. Her labia were swollen and puffy. The edges met in the middle, forming a small dip, bringing out her slit. Above it all loomed her clit. It seemed larger, as if it was trying to escape its fold.

Sarah wanted to touch her pussy and see if it wormed like her lips, but stopped in mid-motion. Were the bots making her do that? She moved her hand along her thigh, her fingernails scraping her skin. Perhaps it wasn't the bots. Her work was her life. She didn't have time for men. Sometimes she felt horny. Was this just one of those times?

Sarah's hand rested on the top of her thigh, the fingers hovering between her legs. Sarah stretched her fingers towards her pussy, reaching her labia. The light touch of her fingers felt good. The heat from her pussy spread to her hips. Sarah pursed her lips and sighed. She moved her fingers up and down her labia, closing her eyes. Her mouth opened, her lips forming a perfect circle, emitting a moan. She rotated her hand in circles, rubbing her pussy gently. It felt so good, she didn't care anymore if it was the bots' fault or not.

Sarah moaned and bit her lower lip as she massaged her pussy. Her fingers ran up and down, caressing her labia, occasionally parting them. Her breasts moved as her chest heaved. Still fondling her labia, Sarah raised her hand and lowered her palm, reaching her clit. She gasped as she felt it hardening against her moving palm.

"Fuck," mumbled Sarah as she lowered her other hand from the armrest to her crotch and shoved two fingers into her wet pussy. Sarah felt her buttocks contract as she thrusted her fingers. Her trembling fingers moved up and down, deeper and deeper inside her with each movement. Sarah's hands entwined as she continued rubbing with one hand while finger fucking herself with the other so vigorously as though her life depended on it. Slowly, she felt it coming, flooding her like a wave. Her hips shook and her ass wobbled up and down. Sarah screamed as her legs pushed her pelvis in the air and a fine mist of her juices sprayed over the chair.

Sarah breathed loudly as her hands slumped at her sides. Her feet fell to the floor. She had never felt like that. Usually she just had to rub herself a little to meet her sexual needs. This time it was an entirely new level. She couldn't believe she had spent her entire life without coming like that. Sarah took off her shirt and used it to dry her groin. She stood up and took a few steps. It all felt like a dream. She supposed she had to get dressed, but somehow preferred to stay naked. Sarah shook her head, trying to get out of her dazed state.

It didn't help.

Luckily, one thing was clear to her as spring water.

She needed cock.

Sarah opened the door to the building's laundry room. A single bare bulb dangled from the ceiling. Most of the tenants used the room during weekends and evenings, so it was no surprise to Sarah that it was occupied by only one man sitting on a white plastic chair, messing around with his phone while he waited for his laundry.

As interesting as his phone was, Ken quickly noticed the ample bosomed woman wearing a buttoned shirt and a very short skirt in the corner of his eye. His hand hovered in midair above the phone as he raised his head to look at Sarah walking towards a washing machine. Ken moved his stare back to his phone, hoping Sarah didn't notice him gawking at her, but quickly returned staring as she paraded in front of him. Ken felt his heart miss a beat as Sarah smiled at him, her full red lips parting gradually into a grin. Her eyes locked on his briefly. He could have sworn she was flirting with him, but it was her breasts that got his crotch going. They were swinging slightly when she walked, pushing against the stretched fabric. Ken was puzzled; didn't she notice that shirt revealed too much? The edges of the shirt's cleavage met well below the height of her nipples, leaving the middle parts of her tits on display. Ken thought he could see the contours of her areolas; a bra was probably too much of a prison for those two bandits. Those tits just begged to be fondled. Ken imagined his hands around them and his mouth sucking on those nipples.

Sarah stopped by a washing machine and put her tub on top. Ken's eyes lowered to Sarah's butt, which was barely covered by a pink skirt. It was then that Sarah dropped a piece of clothing on the floor and bent to pick it up. Ken's heart raced as Sarah's skirt rode up the lower part of her bare buttocks. He was mesmerized. Just a bit more and he could see if she was wearing a thong. He felt his cock stretching as the skirt continued to rise like a curtain. One more inch and he would get a view of her crack, but Sarah reached her sweater on the floor and the stopped its ascent. Ken shook his head and bit his lower lip. The show was about to end. He didn't know there was a second act. Ken nearly shoved his hand down his pants when Sarah spread her legs. She wasn't wearing a thong or a bikini. She was wearing nothing beneath that skirt.

Sarah picked up the sweater, turned around and faced Ken. She wanted the man, but wondered how to approach him. After all, he was a total stranger. She had never done this before. She sure hoped her little "show" had attracted his attention.

Sarah walked slowly towards Ken and sat on a chair next to his, bending her waist, her butt moving towards Ken. She smiled at Ken and spread her legs, stretching. Ken swallowed hard and held the armrests so tight, his knuckles were paper white. He would have given a lot to be sitting in front of Sarah now. Sarah stopped stretching and crossed her legs. She straightened her back and turned her face to Ken, arching her eyebrows.

"Oh," she said, raising a hand to her mouth, "I've forgotten to add a shirt. You don't mind, do you?"

Ken moved his head left to right. "No, no problem at all."

Sarah walked to the washing machine with her back to Ken. Her arms rose and her hands were probably doing something. Was she going to take off her shirt? No way! He was shocked when Sarah took off her shirt and dumped it in the machine. Ken straightened his back. His jaw nearly fell. This couldn't be happening. This was a dream. He'll probably wake up in a minute. Sarah turned and walked back to the chair. Ken tried his best not to gaze, but it was a lost battle. Those tits looked like they were held by an imaginary push-up. They were the size of melons. The red areolas seemed painted on them, showcasing the erect nipples. Ken felt goosebumps as he imagined Sarah holding them, letting him titty-fuck her.

Sarah sat down, looked at Ken's shocked face and giggled.

"What's the matter, baby? Don't you have a girlfriend?"

Ken swallowed hard. He spoke although his throat felt dry. "S..sure I do."

Sarah tilted her head. "Well, doesn't she take care of you?"

"What do you mean?" said Ken.

"I mean sex, honey. Doesn't she give you any?"

Ken pulled his head back. "Of course, she does."

Sarah tilted her head and smiled slyly. "Enough?"

Sarah chuckled as she watched the color drain from Ken's face. She looked at her fingernails and said, "You know, perhaps you're the problem."

Ken shifted in his chair. "What do you mean?"

Sarah turned her body towards ken, giving him a full view of her chest. She held the armrest.