Puppet Ch. 02

Consciousness came to Valerie slowly like she was waking from sleep except her eyes were already open. Her room came into focus through a deep fog, the dim light from her false window casting a weak glow.

She was lying on her bed, curled into a fetal position, naked. She stretched, enjoying the feel of her muscles pulling, flexing, and flipped over onto her back. She stared at the ceiling, the plastic tiles reflecting the blue light to shine a deep purple.

She spread her feet to the corners of her bed and folded her hands under her head, a satisfied grin across her lips. She felt good. Her last customer, Taylor, had just left. She could still feel the orgasms lingering in her body, radiating out from her cunt, warm and electric. She could feel semen drying between her legs. She could smell him, his cologne manly and sweet, not like the stink she smelled with most customers. She knew she should shower, that was the protocol after a customer had left, but she didn't want to move right now. She wanted to lay in her bliss, enjoy feeling good for once, smelling him, trying to remember him. So few customers paid to let her have an orgasm, concerned only with gratifying themselves. It was a rare treat.

She wished she could have actually been conscious for this last customer, that she could have experienced the sex, enjoyed fucking him, felt the orgasms at their height. But that would have gone against protocol. She must always be unconscious - that was the only way to truly satisfy the customer, to give the customer what he wanted, to turn her into the puppet that could satisfy his every desire, that would do exactly what he wanted - and at no emotional harm to herself. That was why she must be unconscious, separated from her body while it was used, her body acting as the customer wanted, moving as he wanted, while she stayed unaware of his invasion.

A lot of the time she was happy about that. Many of the customers weren't as gentle as her last one. They had twisted fantasies involving bondage, rape, and torture, leaving the tales of their perversions upon her skin. Imad did have rules about how far a customer could take the violence because he didn't want his puppets to be ruined, didn't want too many scars and marks across their bodies to devalue their price, but Valerie still awoke with the bruises, burns, and lacerations that were allowed within those rules. The puppet chip was supposed to protect her from the emotional anguish of those experiences, and for the most part it did.

But still when she slept the dreams would come, her subconscious remembering, giving her glimpses of what she had endured, images of a shadowy monster painfully twisting her bare breasts, tied up hanging by her feet, struggling to breathe around a large cock stuffed into her mouth, bent over with a large object crammed into her anus, the pumping of machines, grunting, yelling, moans, screams, all fading together into a grotesque tapestry of pain and pleasure.

Valerie sighed, pushing those thoughts from her mind, wishing that next time she slept she would dream of her last lover, a man who loved her tenderly, made her feel clean and beautiful, made her feel like a woman.

-

Taylor sat in his living room, his first glass of bourbon on ice sitting on the table beside him. He wanted to get drunk like he had every night the past week. He hoped the alcohol could erase his memory, make him forget what he had seen, but it didn't work. It only made the memories worse and brought nightmares where Valerie was tied to a pole whipped by a large man, drenched in sweat, watching her beautiful body squirm under the lashing.

He took a drink and sank into his chair, feeling helpless and lost.

He had almost blown it. He had stood outside of Valerie's room, pounding on the door, swiping his hand across the sensor, but the door wouldn't open. The guards, with their grafted muscles and surgically altered beastlike faces, had come. He saw them coming, ready to grab him and throw him from the parlor, probably banning him for life. He gathered his emotions and told them that he thought he left his data stick in the room, but found it in his coat pocket. He begged forgiveness, looking into two pairs of eyes, both with permanent contacts, one pair red and the other yellow, and then walked out of the parlor.

Now he sat at home worrying about what was happening to her, who was beating her. He couldn't protect her. He couldn't rescue her. That parlor was a fortress and he couldn't get her out.

He heard an incessant noise, a high-pitched beeping coming from his personal cellular phone. He didn't want to answer it, didn't want to talk to anybody. He just wanted to sit and wallow in his misery. The noise wouldn't stop, drilling into his brain, driving him mad, and he stomped across the room and plucked the phone off the counter.

"What?" he yelled into the phone.

"Mr. Taylor?" a voice crackled over the line, barely understandable.

"What?" he yelled again, falling back into his chair.

"I need your help," the voice said, hysterical, choking on tears.

"I can't help you," Taylor said and started to close his phone.

"It's Kit from Imad's Parlor."

Taylor held the phone to his ear, listening intently.

-

Imad sat at his console in the main control room, surrounded by monitors, each connected to a camera in the various rooms of his parlor. He was plugged in so he could hear the sound from each scene just by glancing at that monitor. Behind his electro-optic lenses his eyes jerked from one monitor to another, watching everything in his parlor, missing nothing.

His eyes were getting tired and a headache was threatening to blossom at his temples. He knew he should take a break, but he didn't want to. He didn't like to leave the control room unless he had to. He slept there, ate there, practically lived there, leaving only to take care of business or satisfy his own desires.

He rested his gaze on a particular monitor, instantly feeling his lust awaken in his gut like a stirring beast. He pulled the straps loose at his crotch to allow his gigantic cock to expand freely. He didn't want to rip a hole in his pants again.

He looked at Valerie laying bent forward over a plastic rack, her ass pointed high in the air, her ankles bound to straps at the feet of the rack, her body folded in half with her wrists bound with straps almost as far down as her ankles. Her white skin glistened with sweat. Her long, blonde hair hung to the floor as she lifted her head, her mouth shaped in a large O, whining and screaming in ecstasy as some skinny jack-boy pounded at her ass, sliding his thin, long cock in and out of her anus. The shiny metal apertures along his spine and arms glistened. Imad could see a thin, plastic tube jacked into a port at the base of his skull and connected at the other end to a valve and plunger in the jack-boy's hand so that he could push more of the eroto-hallucinogenic drug into his nervous system.

Imad watched Valerie's body move as the jack-boy thrust into her. She was his most prized puppet, a rare puppet with her light skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. He could charge customers outrageous prices for time with her and it seemed most of them spent that time trying to ruin that which made her so special, lashing out at her aura of purity. That her mind had not cracked yet was a miracle. She was very strong mentally.

Her head snapped forward as the jack-boy thrust into her one more time, ejaculating inside of her.

Imad tapped a button on his armrest and his vision faded away to darkness and then the crude blocks and landscape of his network came into focus as he plugged into his system. He wandered through the blocks of code representing his various puppets, his system programs, security, communication relays, and data stores. He found Valerie's program block and swept his hand through it, watching the code open around him.

He studied her puppet code, seeing she had only ten minutes left in stasis, and increased the time by another hour. He downloaded the adjusted code to her puppet chip through the wireless access point and unplugged.

Back in his control room on the monitor he could see the jack-boy dressing, muttering endearing curses at Valerie whose anus was leaking his spunk. She thanked him for treating her rough and begged him to come back again. The jack-boy smacked her ass hard, making her squeal in delight, and then left the room.

Imad stormed out of the control room. His immense cock led the way, pointing out long and hard in front of him, with the two flat, metal rods just under the skin extending telescopically up the sides of his cock, pumping blood into the thousands of small sacks surgically implanted inside. He was one of the few people in the world who had dared to have the organo-mechanical penis enlargement, making it now a huge phallus that would extend out perfectly straight and rigid along the two rods, and would stay up as long as he willed it.

He swept into the room, the door opening automatically. The serviceman, working towards his grafted muscle implants, saw Imad enter the room and immediately stopped unstrapping Valerie and fled the room.

Imad slid open a metal drawer and pulled out a hand-held electro-shock unit. He plugged it in to an outlet and carried it over to Valerie who turned her head to watch him, a large grin on her face, waiting for him, wanting him.

He shoved into her, her cunt open to him, and she screamed as the immense cock spread her wide, the metal rods stretching her open. He held the electro-shock unit in his hands as he pounded in and out of her furiously, working his cock into her, forcing her cunt wider, stretching around him, making her shriek in twisted ecstasy. Once he was finally lodged inside of her he flipped the power switch and the electro-shock unit came to life with a hum and a whiff of ozone.

He pressed a button and a long, slender bare wire extended out from it. He slid his cock out of her and then plunged back into her as he slapped the wire across her back. Her body jerked, current making every muscle tighten, her cunt muscles contracting around him, current flowing up the metal in his cock, through his body, and he jerked inside of her, screaming, his teeth pressed together.

He slapped her with it again, his hips bucking, slamming into her uncontrollably, current writhing up and down their joined bodies, and they screamed together as he jabbed into her again and again, current flowing between them, until he came in an electric flood.

-

"Can you read this?" Taylor said.

"The light of one is often brighter than that of a thousand," Kit read the words illuminated on his optical implants.

"Good. Now plug in to my test network."

Kit switched over and the words faded away to be replaced by the network represented by a small room with translucent walls and several boxes of code floating in the air. Kit stretched his hands out to one of the boxes and the code flowed around him.

"What is it?" Taylor said, his voice sounding distant in the network.

"It looks like code for breaking a simple 32-bit encryption key."

"Good. Come back now."

Reluctantly, Kit unplugged and the world seeped back into his vision. He could see Taylor standing several feet away from him at a desk, bent over a computer keyboard. He could see clearly, it seemed even better than he could before he had first gone to the hatchet man. Relief spread through his body and he relaxed back in his chair.

"Looks like a full recovery. You're very lucky, Kit," Taylor said and sat in the chair next to him.

"I know. Thank you, Dr. Taylor. I don't...know what to say."

"Nothing needs to be said."

"I mean I don't know how I can pay you back. I don't have anything left." Kit shrugged.

"I know that. You said when you called me that night that you would do anything if I would help you."

Kit stared back at him, ashamed, remembering that night after his last surgery with the hatchet man, waking up blind, hysterical, screaming, his girlfriend rushing to his side, yelling for help and receiving no answer. After he had calmed down they drove back to his apartment and he remembered the card from the older man at the parlor. She dialed and he called to beg the man to help him, please help him, he couldn't see, he'd do anything.

"Yes," Kit said. "I remember that and I meant it." He brushed his fingers along the side of the implants feeling the raw skin around the edges and he winced.

"It will heal, finally."

"Are these the same lenses?"

"Yes. They're good lenses. Oni Tapei lenses. The rig was bad. It was old. No way they could have worked together to do anything for you, even if the surgery had been done right, which it hadn't been. Plus that rig needed a hard connection. You had a plug in the side of your head. That's old technology. Now you're wireless."

Kit couldn't help but smile. He felt great. He had wanted the implants for so long, working, saving, finding a great deal with a hatchet man that supposedly did good work. Then, after the last surgery he had thought it was over. He wouldn't be able to see. But now that was fixed. Thanks to this stranger, this stranger who would now want something from him.

"What do you want?" Kit asked, trying to not feel angry towards this man to whom he now owed a big debt. "I don't have any money."

"I know. I don't want your money. I need your help." Taylor looked at Kit sheepishly like he was the one who owed Kit.

"How can I help you?" Kit asked, wondering if this guy was some kind of twisted sex freak and started thinking about what he would do with the guy and what he wouldn't.

"I need you to help me free a puppet at Imad's."

Kit didn't know whether to feel relief or fear. "What?" he asked.

"I want to get a puppet out of Imad's. I want to rescue her."

"You're fuckin' crazy," Kit said and chuckled to himself. "That's impossible. I can't help you with that."

"Yes, you can. You're perfect. You work there. You're a programmer. Now you can plug in. You're perfect." Taylor sat back in his chair, his eyes watching Kit for a reaction.

"How..." Kit started and then sighed. He sank back in his chair, feeling the weight of his obligation to Taylor. "It's just not possible."

"It is possible. I've got it all worked out." Taylor leaned forward, looking more confident, anxious.

"That place is a fortress, cameras everywhere...and besides the puppets can't leave. The fuckin' chip in their heads won't let them."

"That's why I'll replace the chip."

"What?" Kit leaned forward now. "It ain't that easy..."

"I know how to do it."

Kit shook his head. He could believe that. "But even if you could, they'd know. The cameras would see you."

"That's why I need you to plug in and knock them out for about a minute."

"They'd know," Kit said, staring at Taylor, thinking actually he could do it and they wouldn't know, starting to like the idea. This was what he wanted to do. This was why he got plugged in. But it was too soon, too big. Imad would kill him.

"No. They won't. I'm sure that kind of thing happens all the time. Just give it a glitch. All I need is a minute."

"Then they'd know you replaced the chip. She'd go offline while you swapped. They're always monitoring the puppets for problems with their chips and they'd know."

"You'd have to knock the whole system out. Just for a minute." Taylor looked at Kit, seeing that though Kit was protesting he was liking it. He'd do it. He'd just have to let him think about it, convince himself.

"Okay. So I plug in. I knock out the entire system for a minute while you replace the chip. But what good does that do you? They'd know it was a new chip once the network was back on."

"Not if you give me their encryption key beforehand."

Kit shook his head. He could get that. That would be easy. "So, I get you the key beforehand. You program a new chip. You come see her. I knock out the system for a minute. You replace the chip. Then what?"

"Then, your part is done. You don't have to worry about the rest."

"What are you gonna do? Get her to just walk out?" Kit started to laugh as he sat back in the chair.

"Exactly."

Kit shook his head. "You're fuckin' crazy. They'll stop her. I won't be able to knock the cameras out for that. They'll beef it up after the first time. They'll see her, grab her, bring her back."

"Let me worry about that," Taylor said, his eyes cool now, serious.

Kit looked at him and thought the guy must be crazy. "Why you want to do it? Why steal a puppet? You can fuck her anytime at Imad's."

Taylor glanced away, his eyes looking past Kit at the wall. "She's special. She doesn't belong there."

"You in love or something?"

"You could say that." Taylor looked back at him and Kit saw the guy wasn't crazy. He was sane, just in love and wasn't thinking right.

"Okay, Doc," Kit said, nodding his head. "I'll do it. But only because I want to do it and I think I can get away with it. I still don't think you'll get her out."

"I'll get her out or tear the whole place down trying."