Erica The Edited Pt. 01

Cameron's response was vocal but soft, "Oh, just making a few more adjustments."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well, you've been a bit cautious with your oral sex in the past. Not that I think it would have affected your relationship with your ex, but I think removing some inhibitions will help you creatively."

"Mmmm?" Erica responded. She took his cock out of her mouth and began to lick its shaft. Cameron was rigid, veiny, and tuberous, and kept enough control, but he had to admit it was difficult. "She's shaming porn actresses. I'm really good."

Erica licked down to his balls, encrusted with their dried mingled fluids, and licked and sucked while stroking his cock. Cameron's work rarely left him so impressed. He stroked her neck and upper back, probing and making more adjustments to her mind.

"You know," he continued, "I have an offer for you. Two actually. You can't refuse them. Really you can't. Don't worry, I'm not Vito Corleone. The first is you'll move in with me. You'll love it; much better than your ex. And of course the sex will be better. You're getting a taste of it now, obviously."

"Mmm-mmm," Erica purred, either in response or agreement, it was the same. She wasn't inclined to refuse at this stage.

"You won't wear clothes around the house or property . . . or any place we live for that matter. I've pretty much edited out any inhibitions regarding nudity. You have a great body. I'd love to see all of it, any time I want."

"It seems logical," Erica thought. "Why should I wear anything around him?" It seemed foolish, the concept of clothing.

"Oops! Too much! You'll have to wear something in public and at work of course. I'm thinking sundresses. I love sundresses on a woman; spring and summer for you obviously. No underwear or bras though. You'll wear something more appropriate during fall and winter. Underwear? Hmmm, something just enough to keep you warm underneath. No bras there either. I'll let you pick out and buy the clothes but I'd really like it if you wore sundresses."

Erica agreed. She loved sundresses too, so it didn't take much editing from Cameron on that issue.

"Oh! And flats. Flats and sandals. They look better on you than high heels."

Erica had some issues with that but a gentle edit changed her mind soon enough. "Okay, you can wear them on very special occasions," he relented.

"I have a state of the art gym, the best cooks, and connections to the top fashion houses, so personal maintenance should be a cinch. Actually it will be."

Erica practiced yoga for exercise. A brief edit made sure to make her yoga regimen routine and slightly more intense . . . and nude . . . and hot . . . and tantric.

"Now for the other offer. I need a new vice president for public relations. It pays a lot better than your current job, and it's greater responsibility, but I believe it's the position you're looking for."

"Slurp! Smack! Mmmm!" Erica replied. "Omigod, it's perfect!"

"You'll fuck me and anyone I like, of course. At home or work, any time I wish. You can play around also. I'm pretty open-minded. I just want access to your body when I want. Here, let me make another adjustment."

Cameron found, early on, changing sexual orientation was impossible, even for him. He could change minds, yes, but not someone's nature. He could make a gay man fuck a woman, even place triggers to arouse his body, but emotional love and attraction eluded him. The core always remained. "I can make them fuck, but can't make them love," he thought, "But then, I'm a sociopath, so what do I know?"

His probing of Erica, however, detected some bisexual tendencies suppressed since college. "A bit of editing out some inhibitions and that potential is restored. Hmmm, maybe I can get her to bring in that co-worker she thought about earlier."

He let her lick his balls and shaft for awhile, then told her, "Suck my cock so I can cum in your mouth." She swallowed his seed without letting a single drop escape. When she finished, she lay with her head on his groin, stroking his belly.

"Mmmm, that was . . . amazing," she murmured.

"Yes, it was actually," Cameron replied. She certainly was better than most he'd edited and, he realized, she was the first he planned to keep longer than usual. "Must be the talent and ambition I saw."

Cameron was self-aware of himself as a sociopath to acknowledge he could never love her. He had some affection, at least the present affection of the bedroom. He didn't know how he would feel in the morning, or a week from now. Right now, running his fingers through her silky black hair, he admired her curvy body curled next to him, as she drifted to sleep. "Good idea," and he did the same.

****

Erica woke the next morning. She didn't know where she was at first. She remembered laying on the beach and then . . . "Oh." A rush of memory overwhelmed her. "Oh . . . what did I do?"

It wasn't one of those "Oh-my-God" moments, more "Wow!" Everything about yesterday reeked of the strange. "I've never been like that with anyone before!"

The sex she'd had never contained the kind of intensity, obsessiveness, compulsion, and utter wild abandon, as yesterday. "And the way he knew my thoughts . . ."

Erica knew with logic and rationality what happened, what he did, was impossible; that on some level, many levels actually, she should feel violated, drained, as if she'd encountered a vampire. "Maybe I did. So why is my pussy wet?" And her nipples hard; and her skin flushed, as if the mere thought of him aroused her? "What did he do to me?"

It was love or being in love. She didn't know him before yesterday, and had no feelings for him, other than overwhelming curiosity, "And lust. I feel out of control, like I'm addicted."

She searched her thoughts and, however hard she looked, couldn't find outrage, or a sense of violation. Some moral part of herself had been stripped, not suppressed, stripped from her conscience.

Instead, she felt a craving, a yearning mostly in her body, but also her mind, for a fuck. She also knew another thing: those orders he gave her, she would obey. It was why she sat on the bed, nude, with no desire whatsoever to dress.

"Where is he?" She hadn't noticed his absence initially. The bed sheets were rumpled. The windows were open, bringing in the warm breeze and sounds of the surf. The house otherwise was quiet.

She found the letter on the nightstand: "Dear Erica. Sorry to leave you like this but I'm a rich guy and have rich guy duties to attend. Back in a couple of days. I took the liberty of canceling the rest of your reservation at the hotel. Your clothes will be put in storage. You can collect them later. You have the run of the house and the beach. Don't mind the bed; it takes care of itself, my invention. Just press the button on the head board. The house is a Smart House, so you won't have to do much. You'll have to make your own food though. I've programmed it for you, so there shouldn't be any problems. If you go out, if you want to come back in, just put your hand on the door. So that's it, see you soon. Oh! I've brought in a little something to keep you occupied while I'm gone, Cam."

Erica looked at the letter. "That's really presumptuous of him," she thought, semidetached. "I should feel something about this."

She'd never heard of self-cleaning beds, but Cameron was known for his cutting edge inventions. She got off the bed, pressed the button, and watched. The pillows disappeared into the headboard, the covers were pulled under the bed by rollers. The mattress grew wet, then dry. Erica made a note to ask Cameron about the process. A great amount of bodily fluids were soaked into the fabric. "How does it get rid of it?" Speaking of bodily matters, "I need a shower."

Last night's activities left Erica little time to explore the house. White and chrome seemed to be Cameron's theme. The bathroom at the end of the hall was large, shiny, white tiled with chrome fittings, complete with Jacuzzi, and sauna. "For multiple guests," Erica thought.

The bathroom seemed sparse at first glance. She entered the open-ended shower, not seeing any nozzles or soaps. "Strange . . . hmmm, maybe . . ." She touched a tile. The tile lit up and the wall slid back to reveal a shelf.

Erica recognized some of the world's most high end and rarest soaps and shampoos. Simultaneously, hidden nozzles activated, sending a rain of warm water onto her body.

The wash cloths were expensive, high thread counts, the body oils and shampoos exotic. Erica finished, clean, slick, shiny, "And hungry." Her stomach rumbled.

The kitchen was a tech wonder out of a four star restaurant. A celebrity chef could have selected the food. She decided on a simple eggs and bacon breakfast, with avocado. She wore an apron, giggling at the sight she would have presented to Cameron. "Me, in just an apron."

The breakfast finished, the dishes washed, "What to do next?" Cameron said he brought in something; it obviously hadn't arrived.

"I can't go into town, no clothes," she giggled, "And Cameron wants me near the house."

Erica decided to stroll along the beach and maybe swim in the surf; simple mundane activities and, along the way, think of how her life changed since yesterday morning.

A short moment later, she was at the surf, feeling the soft ocean air on her bare skin. The day was partly cloudy and quiet except for a few seagulls. Her blanket and bikini were where she left them. They were foreign to her now.

It felt fun standing bare to the world, excited at everything around her body, from the touch of the sun and air, to the sand beneath her feet. The idea of someone stumbling on to the beach, like she did yesterday, coming across her nude body, no longer scared her. In fact it made her pussy wet. "I wonder if Cameron felt like this?"

Erica plopped down on the blanket, took some oil, and spread it on her body. She spent the morning sunbathing and swimming, before returning to the house for a shower and lunch.

Those two activities accomplished, Erica returned to the bedroom for a short nap, and on the bed, she saw it . . . or to be specific, him. Cameron's "little something."

To Be Continued.