Karina Pt. 01

Tags: MC, MF, MD, GR

Synopsis: A lonely tech is surprised when a young woman tries to hide in his shop, then is further surprised by what he learns about her.

Note: 'My Erotic Fiction', which means you cannot use or repost it without my permission; it may be illegal or immoral for you to read—If so, don't; and none of it is real.

Note 2: This is set in the periphery of the 'Secret Sexlabs Inc.' universe. The SSI does not play a large role in it, however.

*****

BANG BANG BANG!

I jerked up to look at the doors of my small electronics repair shop and saw a young woman pounding on the glass with a desperate look in her eyes. It was late at night, far past my usual hours, but I often hung around the shop even when there were no projects since there was no real reason to go to my small apartment and I had better internet in the shop. (I even had a small bathroom with shower, and a pretty comfy cot in the back room.) The work lamp I was using must have lit the place up enough for her to see me.

Strangers at night are rarely good news, but she looked more like she was in trouble than someone trying to score a few bucks 'for my sick child' or the other scams most of my late-night visitors have tried. Besides, it was a cold, rainy night.

As I approached the door, I noticed she was wearing jade scrubs under a soaked thin robe-like thing and soggy slippers—like a hospital patient might wear. For a moment the thought that she might be an escaped convict or mental patient flittered through my mind but the city jail was miles away and the mental health hospital in the area had closed years ago.

I opened the door and she stumbled in, dripping and shivering. I led her to the corner of the shop I use as a sort of lounge or waiting area and had her sit on a towel, tossing a warm throw over her shoulders and another towel on her lap. I asked if she wanted some hot tea (apologizing for the lack of coffee), and she shivered her way through a nod. I turned on the hot pot and gathered a make-shift tea service.

Once she stopped shivering, she began to babble a bit, begging me to hide her, to keep her safe, that they were looking for her and more. I urged her to calm down and tell me what was going on.

"There isn't any time, they'll be looking for me soon!" Asking her who was looking for her only made her more afraid. Since she did not seem to be a danger to me, I decided to let her hide in the parts room for the time being.

No sooner had I cleaned up from the tea then someone else was banging on the door. This time, it was two men in suits—a really big guy and a normal sized guy. I went to the front and they asked, firmly but politely, that I open the door. I cracked it a bit and the smaller guy introduced him as a part of the security team from the building next door. He showed me a flyer with the girl's face on it and asked if I had seen her. I said she might have been the one who pounded on my door about fifteen minutes ago, but otherwise no.

He sighed and looked around. He handed me a copy of the flyer and told me that there was a reward for any information about her. When I asked what was going on, he told me she was a part of a drug trial and had left without warning, and that she may be paranoid and confused because of the experiment. They just wanted her back safely. If I saw her, please call them at the number on the flyer. I asked about calling the police or an ambulance. He said to go ahead and call 911 if she appeared to be in trouble, but they would prefer to protect her dignity and privacy so to call the number on the flyer first if possible.

It was very believable, and I was thinking about telling them she was here when the big guy's radio came on. I missed most of what was said, but heard 'the bitch' and 'drag her' before he got the earpiece in. I decided to continue playing dumb (not hard for me, according to a couple old girlfriends) and told them I would call if I saw her.

I went to the back room only to discover that she wasn't there! After a moment of frantic searching, I found her hidden deep inside a smallish cabinet and told her to sit tight for a bit in case the men came back around. I went out and worked some more. Sure enough a couple minutes later, I noticed activity at the front door and saw the men looking in. I waved at them and got up to walk towards them, but they left—apparently satisfied I was alone. I had a bad moment when I saw puddles on the carpet I would have a hard time explaining, but then realized that the old, worn carpet hid them nicely unless you knew they were there.

I opened the door for the back room, and adjusted my monitor and chair so I could stay in place and talk to her without anyone at the door seeing my lips move or anything. I had her sit down just inside the back room and started to ask her about what was going on so I could figure out if I was going to call them or the cops, or what.

The story she gave me flabbergasted me! Her name was Karina (and I introduced myself as Jeff) and she was basically a 'Russian mail order bride slave'. More specifically, she was recruited by an agency in her native country when she was sixteen and given a chance at a 'new life in the United States'. She lept at the chance to escape poverty and a dead-end future.

Fast-forwarding through a lot of really sad stuff, she found herself in a locked apartment complex and saddled with a huge debt to her agency and limited ways to pay it back.

Her prettier co-captives were already working as 'escorts', web-cam girls, and worse. Her more experienced co-captives worked as waitresses or in other jobs that paid a decent wage that allowed them to pay their inflated 'room and board' and pay on their debt a little. Karina and several others were on various work crews, like office cleaning, that barely paid the room and board even when working more than 15 hours a day.

When a man showed up at the apartments looking for people for experimental trials, Karina jumped at the chance—better money, some health care, and even the opportunity to move out of the oppressive apartments! She soon learned she just traded one hell for another. She was locked in a small hospital-like room with just hospital-like things to wear, and then subjected to painful exams, made to take lots of pills and shots, forced to endure weird programs on the always-on TV, and deal with scary things blaring over the speakers all day and night.

She only left her room to go to the small gym or shower, the small roof garden, or the dreaded 'clinic' where they always did something to her that made her hurt. She came to realize that the place was part of a single floor in a larger building filled with businesses, and they only let her out of her room when everything else was closed.

Then, a couple hours ago, she saw a clipboard in the clinic with her name on it. While the doctor was out of the room, she was able to read some of it and what she read terrified her! She was part of an experiment to use a variety of advanced techniques that would change her body and mind to make her an ideal sex slave for a paying customer!

She was further horrified to learn that the process was nearing completion, and just needed 'triggering' with the thing that looked like a car remote hanging from the clipboard. She panicked and ran out the clinic door, found the elevator, and got out of the building with no real plan until she saw the feeble light in my shop in an otherwise dark building.

I asked a lot of questions, including why the clinic was not locked. She figured it was a lucky fluke—she knows it usually was, but not always since there were usually guards in the outer hallway. Most of the guards were brainwashed in some way as far as she could tell, and the guard for the night was a strong but very attractive woman who appeared to be in another room with the doctor and moaning a lot.

I asked about the remote and she showed me a small black box with a single green button on it, and a keychain hanging off a corner, Her name was hand-engraved on the face, along with a series of numbers. I stuck it in my pocket for safe-keeping and we talked for a while longer.

Finally, I decided to take her home and call the FBI in the morning since I figured they would be interested in a case like this. We made an exit plan—I brought the car around, she jumped in, and we took off with no one seeming to notice anything—probably because it was nearly 3 AM at this point.

She fell asleep in the car, and I half-carried her to my apartment, clicking the car locked over my shoulder as I struggled with her. I tucked her into my bed, made up the couch, and fell asleep thankful that I did not need to open the shop until 10AM.

My phone alarm went off at 7AM as programmed, and I struggled to not just turn it off or hit snooze. When I managed to work out enough kinks to allow myself to sit up, I noticed Karina sitting quietly in the chair across from me. She had taken a shower and was wearing my robe.

She was also holding a travel cup of something steaming.

"Good morning, Master. Would you like some hot tea?"

"What the hell? Master? What's going on, Karina?"

"Master, you Triggered me last night, and now I must serve you however I can. Is... is that OK Master? Please tell me it's OK!" She seemed to be terrified I would reject her all of the sudden. I tried to calm her and asked her about the robe and tea.

"Master, I apologize but I felt it was important to be clean for you, and this robe seemed the logical choice. Would you prefer that I be naked in your presence?" She began to shrug the robe off before I stopped her and asked about the tea. "I thought about making you breakfast, but I did not find much food in the kitchen, and I chose tea since you seemed to like it and did not have any coffee." That made sense, and I was inordinately pleased that she was thinking about things like this.

A sudden thought hit me and I dug stuff out of my slacks—sure enough, two remotes. I took my car remote to the door and clicked it, and heard the doors lock. I had used the wrong remote last night. 'Damn', I uncharitably thought, 'I get a slave I don't want and she's not even very attractive!'

I looked at Karina again. She was short and slim—boyish, really. Her hair was short and dark, her face was just a bit scrunched up with a slightly large nose. She could pass for a stereotypical school yard bully easily. She had told me earlier she was twenty, but looked a lot younger.

"Karina, what would happen if I ordered you to go out and have a life? Say we went somewhere and got you some good fake documents and set you up with an apartment and a job?"

"Without you, Master?" Tears were welling up in her eyes. When I cautiously nodded, she burst out crying. "I would do it if you ordered me to. I would just walk out of here and go wherever you told me to if you ordered it, but I would never be happy again, and I would be in constant pain being apart from you." Damn damn. My phone chirped again. Time to go to work. Triple damn! I had to go in today—there were a couple projects I had to get out today to make the rent.

"Karina, I need to go to work. Will you be OK here by yourself? I'll be back by 7PM." She asked what she could do. I suggested some cleaning, TV, etc. as I quickly dressed and ran out the door. She asked permission to use the computer and internet while I was gone and I said sure before I thought about it. Right after I opened the shop, I called her and warned her against using the internet to do anything that might call attention to herself. In fact, I told her, it would probably be best to not use the 'net at all.

"Of course, Master, as you wish." Every time she said 'master' I found that I winced even as a small shiver went down my spine. The day drug on fueled by a mixture of fear and paranoia, and a need to make some money. My customers came and went, the till got fed, and some guys in suits came back to talk to me. I told them again that no one came in last night and I had not seen anyone. I could not tell if the guy was suspicious, or just frustrated. He handed me a new flyer, this time with more photos and information, and the word REWARD printed huge on top.

The other guy mumbled something about a tracker that malfunctioned. When I mentioned I fixed electronics, he acted like he suddenly noticed the sign on the shop and said it was not that sort of a problem. "Nah. We just got an indication that a... a sort of location beacon was activated last night, but because of the storm, the GPS coordinates were not transmitted correctly. We are just worried that she is lost or hurt. Anyway, if you learn anything, please call, OK?"

I almost fainted when I closed the door. The remote sent an activation signal! As small as the unit was, the GPS antenna and power pack could not be very big, so it must use cellular signals to help—and I got poor coverage in my apartment, probably due in part to the big power transmission lines nearby. Between that and the storm, I got lucky—again. I got shaky again when I thought about the string of 'lucky' and not so lucky events that have lined up so far and decided to try to take more charge of the situation.

It was late afternoon on a Wednesday—it was probably safe to close early now that the main projects were done. I put a note in the window and set a response on my answering machine and email, and headed home, trying to make plans as I drove. Should I get food on the way home? Should we move out of town for a bit? Should I close the shop for a while? The last one was definitely out—it would send a strong hint to her hunters that something was amiss. As for the rest, there was just too little information and too little time to make a rational decision. I grabbed a few groceries (there really wasn't much in the house—I lived on take-out and frozen meals way too often), and got home by four.

The apartment was spotlessly clean as I entered, and noticed she had even cleaned the fridge as I put things away. I went looking for Karina, only to see her naked in front of my computer, headphones on and hands furiously working her small breasts and probably at her unseen pussy. "M-M-MASTER!" She shouted when she saw me. That apparently triggered an orgasm and she passed out. As I came closer to help, I noticed she found some of the erotic pictures on my computer.

I made sure she was breathing comfortably and covered her with a throw. Her naked body was not very exciting, but the image on the screen was one of my favorites. It was a morph I created by combining Scarlett Johanssen, a big-tit/latex fetish model named Bianca Beauchamp, and a dash of Jessica Rabbit to make a tall, beautiful, large-breasted redhead that had a great ass to boot. The image shifted as the slideshow went to another pose, more provocative than the last. I am not an expert at digital art and manipulations, but the results were good enough to get me a little aroused.

Just as I began to wonder what the hell she was doing in this folder, and cursing myself for not hiding and locking it better she began to wake up.

"Oooh... Oh! Master! I am so sorry! I did not expect you home for a few more hours!" I explained that I came home early and why, then asked what she was doing. "Forgive me Master, but I need to ask you something. Do my looks satisfy you? Please be honest."

I was stumped. This sounded like the classic 'does this make my butt look big' trap, but her tone, her look, and the fact she was my unwilling, unwitting slave made me decide to answer honestly.

"I am sorry, Karina, but while I think I like you well enough, I am not interested in you physically."

"I thought not, and I felt something telling me that I would have to change. I was looking for clues as to what kind of woman you liked as I was cleaning, and I found several interesting photos on your computer. When I found this collection, I thought it was something important since you seem to have spent quite a bit of time with it. Does she appeal to you?" I nodded. "I thought so. Would you consider her your ideal woman?" Again I nodded, adding that I found a lot of women beautiful and desirable. I was kind of embarrassed to admit that. "What would you change on her if you could?"

I told Karina about the trouble I had with some issues, like trying to express a strong musculature while keeping the skin sleek and smooth, or finding the right tint of green for her eyes. She asked some very pointed and embarrassing questions, like details about her sexual behaviors, and I lost track of time talking to her about it.

When I realized it was almost seven-thirty, I broke things off and started supper. She begged to do it, so I let her and used the 'net to see if there was any news. Sure enough, there was an Amber Alert on her online. Damn again again. She called me to supper and we ate and talked. I told her what happened at work and online, and she said it would not matter soon. When I asked her what she meant, she helped herself to thirds and said she could tell me more about it tomorrow. We spent the rest of the night watching TV and relaxing after she cleaned up—forbidding me to help.

The alarm went off in the morning, and something was wrong. It was my 'leave for work' reminder, not the wake-up alarm! I scrambled to leave and shouted through the other bedroom door at Karina that I would see her later. I ignored her mumbled reply as I rushed out. Once at work, I found that somehow the alarm had been checked as 'off' for the day. 'Curious' I mumbled as I rechecked it and put it away, wondering for a heartbeat if Katrina might have done it for some reason. That reminded me, I had thought about doing some quick clothing shopping for Karina over lunch, but she had asked me to hold off on that so I just worked until quitting time, grabbed some more groceries, and went home—calling her when I was about 15 minutes out as we had discussed for a bit of extra security.

My clean apartment was almost attractive with a woman's touch. Clean, well-lit, furniture moved a bit for better flow, and even lightly scented. It was a pleasure to come home to. Then the bedroom door opened and the pleasure increased. An attractive woman with short dark hair walked out, totally nude, with a sway to her hips that was counterbalanced by her C-cup or so breasts. She flowed into my arms and began to kiss me all over, nearly overwhelming me with her floral scent and sheer presence.

"K-K-Karina?" I managed to stammer out.

"Yes. my beloved Master. It's me. Hopefully, this form pleases you more?" Even her voice and syntax had changed! her voice was higher, more musical, with a delightful exotic accent even as her eyes glinted in amusement. "Oh, I believe it does!" She said as she pressed her hip into my groin.

"What happened?"

"Some of the things my captors did to me involved filling me with something that sounded like 'nanny bots'. Sometimes they called them 'na nights'? They were supposed to be what changed my body when I was 'triggered'." My head spun. They used nanotechnology and apparently some sort of mental interface to do all this? They were years ahead of what the industry was supposed to be capable of. That realization scared me more than I was scared so far—how far would they go to protect something like this? How large was this group?

"As far as I can tell, the rest will take a month or so to complete." I asked how she knew this and she looked confused. "I just know, somehow. Could these nanny things be telling me this?" I shrugged. "Like, now I know that my hair will start to grow in red and wavy, but even with the nanny thingies it will take a few weeks to reach the targets. I... I hope you will be OK with what I have until that happens." I assured her she was fine as she was. She blushed prettily.

"I appreciate that, Master, but now that the process is started, it will not stop until I match the Template. It will take about a month to get the height right, and most of the other changes will be ready at about the same time.