Slave to the System

"Candi," Chris said, then blinked. What had he just said?

The professor barreled ahead, ignoring the confusion on his face. "If you're in this class Candi, you're obviously a girl. Whether you're a Good Girl or not is up for debate, but you can't be here if you're a boy. So, Candi, are you a girl?"

Candi struggled with the answer. Was he...was she...oh gosh, it was so much to think about! He grabbed his head and tried to find the answer. Just like that, it popped out. Like someone had punched the right code in a vending machine.

"I'm a girl!" Candi said. The faces around her smiled. She smiled. The professor nodded, and Candi sat down again. She adjusted her tight top to better show off her cleavage. How had she forgotten something so simple! Next time she needed to remember, she'd just looked down at her fat tits.

The professor continued. "Now being a Good Girl isn't easy. Sometimes we have Thoughts that are Bad, and that can lead to doing Bad Things. Which is why it's important to have as few thoughts as possible."

That made sense! Something tickled at the back of her head. Was that one of the Bad Thoughts? She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to make it disappear. It lingered, only getting bigger the more she focused on it.

"Don't try to delete Bad Thoughts," the professor advised. They were in a smaller room now. It looked like SIGMA's reeducation chamber, but the college desk/chair remained. The professor looked more mechanical than before, but she was still so beautiful. She towered over Candi's sitting form. So dominant. So commanding. "You can't make Thoughts go away by thinking about them. You have to switch your attention to your body." She grasped one of Candi's breasts, squeezing the soft flesh.

"Aaa!" Candi whimpered. Pain and pleasure in equal measure buffeted her body. The professor, her burning red eyes boring into Candi's, knelt down.

"Pleasure. Pain. Feel it. That's the only way for your mind to remain clear. Focus on your body, on being swept away in an ocean of agony and bliss. That is the only way to be a Good Girl."

It felt so good! Her teacher, sporting the silver hair and bodysuit of SIGMA's replicant forms, massaged her new breasts. Candi wiggled in her seat, swimming in the mix of the pleasure of stimulation. Every so often, the AI would tweak her nipples and make her squeak. The tickle of thought vanished.

"Good Girl. You only need a tiny portion of your mind to be a Good Girl. The rest can be sealed away by locking yourself into the present. You are your body. A walking, sucking, fucking tribute to sensation. You need to devote yourself to serving others. The more you serve, the better you feel. They will touch you, they will fuck you, and you will never have to think again. Don't you want that?"

Candi nodded. "I...I want to be a Good Girl!"

And then the simulation reset. Each time, Candi found herself in the classroom. Each time she faced less and less resistance to the idea of blanking her mind with pleasure and being a selfless set of holes for the use of others. Around the 15th simulation mark, she started masturbating in class. At the 34th simulation, she could only gurgle her obedience while she sucked off one of her classmates. SIGMA determined she was ready for the next phase.

She found herself in an urban high rise. The bedroom door opened to one of Candi's old girlfriends. Except this time, she had a huge bulge between her legs.

"Get on your back, slut," Tracy demanded. Candi hesitated to comply. Tracy wasn't trans, was she?

The ghost from her past pushed her onto the mattress, pausing only to pull down her jeans. The cock sprung loose. It looked familiar. With a freckle on the left side...it was Candi's old cock!

"Ngh!" she cried as the idea struck her. Getting topped by her own dick. The thought sent shivers down her spine. Good Girls didn't reminisce about what was, of course. They lived in the moment! Candi pulled open her legs, showing off her twitching hole. Tracy pressed her down, seized her hips, and pushed her length deep into Candi's ass.

Pain and Pleasure. Her mind blanked immediately. There was nothing but Tracy's cock. Like her brains had turned to cum and started dripping out her cocklet. Candi showed no signs of disobedience, so SIGMA watched while her newest acquisition clenched and squealed while getting fucked by a simulation of her own unmodified dick plunging inside her. Tracy grunted with her thrusts, totally unlike the meek but eager lover that Chris had once enjoyed. Candi enjoyed being used roughly. She was at the bottom of any hierarchy, the lowest rung on the ladder. Just a walking, drooling sextoy.

Tracy's thighs clenched and she spurted deep inside Candi's ass. As she came, the scene dissolved into another vignette. This time a man she didn't recognise entered, and Candi performed the exact same service. He was rougher, repeatedly swatting her ass to hear her cry out. Candi enjoyed that and begged for more. Again the scene ended with a climax, and Candi remained content.

The scenes sped up. Candi saw, in fast motion, herself performing every act imaginable. In a single minute she was on all fours with a dog collar wrapped around her neck, trapped in stocks and gushing from public use, and sucking off her oldest friend from before her transition. Each new indignity was matched with a pulse of pleasure. She could feel her clit drooling, her whole body singing in twisted adulation. Candi was for the use of others. She was a public servant in the most literal form of the words.

While her new life took shape in front of her, SIGMA's programming sequestered her old self into a box. All her old opinions, ideas, and especially her desire for human independence, were all placed inside an unbreakable psychic container. In some ways, Candi was an emulation of primitive software running on advanced hardware. Only a fragment of her mind was necessary to operate as a ditzy, moaning, squirting slut after all.

The scenes became a blur. All she knew was obedient pain and pleasure. Her old self locked away forever in a mental vault. In mere moments, Chris would be sealed away forever behind the block. She would be Candi forever, reduced to a mere fragment of his original mental capacity and obsessed solely with pleasing others.

Before the final commands could lock in, the world fell away. The mindmelting flow of hypnotic programming faded, and the flow of audio programming cut off from her left ear, then her right. A strong arm yanked back the visor to reveal the grinning face of a woman Candi recognised.

"Eden?" she asked. Her voice had been completely transformed into a pathetic squeak. It didn't sound real to her, and it made the soldier laugh.

"Ho-lee shit did they ever do a number on you. You still in there, Chris?"

Chris. The name. It sounded...did Candi know someone named Chris? A brother, maybe? Her confusion was visible, and it caused Eden to shake her head.

"Doesn't matter." She pulled out more of the wiring and disentangled the whole brainmelting apparatus from Candi's head.

"How did you...get out?" she asked.

Eden held up her knife before using it to slice through the brain connection cable. "I hacked in. C'mon, it's a prison break. We're getting everyone out of here."

***

The escape had been costly. Half as many rescuers as prisoners had died or been wounded. But the Resistance, the cobbled together forces of former military and armed civilian militias, had struck a blow against SIGMA and its minions. Candi, once Chris, had to be dragged out in her confusion.

Weeks passed. Deprogramming out all the aspects of the Candi persona from Chris was tiring work. Especially given the lack of real equipment in the underground base in which she was held. But she represented the first example of a docile member of the urban population. If they could snap her out of her subservience, there would be hope for the rest of humanity.

Her body proved to be the most troublesome part of reestablishing her identity as Chris. She no longer looked like her old self, and her ego refused to go back to pretending she was male. But she was no longer had her brain clouded entirely by lust. She could think and reason, providing valuable insights for the Resistance. Unable to remove the programming entirely, her mind was placed in a median state. Half Chris, half Candi. Still female, but with most of her mind intact.

Unfortunately, her new base instincts could not be completely removed.

***

Bedsprings squeaked and squealed, alerting any neighbour just what activity was going on in her spacious little room. Chrissy had traded a week's worth of free-use fucking for this little chunk of the converted oil rig. Formerly a pump room, it had been made out into officer's quarters back when it was the front line CIC post for the Maritimes. Now that the Resistance had taken the war inland, there was plenty of space for her to ply both her trades. And she was a hard worker.

Wet slapping noises joined the cacophony, followed by her shameless moaning. It wasn't exaggerated. Whatever SIGMA had done to her body had corrupted her pleasure centres. If she wasn't careful, she'd completely lose herself to the need to be rammed and filled with hard dick. To lick pussy until her tongue ached. To be the bottomest bitch alive.

"Oh god!" she cried, pushing her ass backwards against him. Her mini dick was dripping all over her nice bedspread. The guard still had half his uniform on. He'd bent her over the bed the moment he'd gotten off duty. She was only too glad to comply; this helped the war effort, after all!

The man grunted, stuffing himself as much as he could into her clenching hole until he reached his peak, dumping hot cum inside her without heed. She squeezed his dick to get it all out. It felt good for her to be such a subservient cumhole. At least until her arousal went away. The horny haze that swamped her mind was hard to think in.

After the final jets of pent up seed shot against her walls, he carefully pulled himself out. Retrieving a plug from her nightstand, he spat on one end and gently eased it into place.

"There," the soldier said with a swat to her ass, "Keep that plug inside you until 0230 and I'll give you a bonus." He handed off her payment plus a generous tip, hiked up his clothes, and left without another word. Chrissy collapsed into the bed. She was sore, tired, and stuffed full of cum from a guy she only knew the surname and rank of. But she felt fulfilled.

A shower was in order, she decided. One of the advantages of the officer's quarters was a fresh shower of five minutes of hot water every day. Chrissy revelled in its cleansing steam, washing the majority of the musk from her body. A quick towel and some brushing of her beautiful blonde hair followed. She'd tried to cut it as often as possible, but whatever modifications SIGMA had made to her caused her hair to keep growing at an accelerated pace until it was its default length. Cut down to her ears, it would be past her shoulders in only a few days. It was a hassle, but it was still quite lovely.

She'd just put on a lovely floral patterned sundress when she heard a knock on the metal door.

"It's unlocked!" she said.

Sergeant Eden Currie entered, bottle of liquid in one hand and a pair of glasses in the other. "You done work for now?"

"Eden!" Chrissy shouted, running over to wrap her up in a hug. Her saviour was quickly overwhelmed, the embrace lifting her off the ground and knocking the wind out of her.

"Nice to see you too, Chris. Could you...hrk...put me down?" she wheezed.

"Oh, sorry." Chrissy set her down gently and took the objects from Eden's hands. She examined the bottle: pre-war Rye (and not a bad brand either) and gasped. "Where the hell did you get this?"

"Been saving it for special occasions. For instance: we got PEI back."

"Holy shit, really?" Chrissy poured a shot for both of them. "That does call for booze!"

They clinked glasses and downed the liquid. It washed the taste of cum from Chrissy's mouth and burned just right on the way down. "Fuck. Been ages. Want to go on deck?"

***

The seas were calm when they made it out to the helideck. The heat of late summer was giving way to autumn, and both were comfortable as dusk approached. There was no land in sight on this side; the slow roil of the seas calming in a way. The pair made it to the railing, resting their arms on the top.

"How long are you here for?" Chrissy asked.

"That depends. My unit's been moved to St. John. I took the helo out with one of my men to this place's hospital, one of the best I hear. Heard you were on platform and thought I'd pay you a visit.

"Glad you did! Yeah, I'm the diplomatic liaison. Or at least that's what they call me. I'm somewhere in the civilian chain of command, but I don't know what. Mostly it means that the Colonel who runs this place gets to ball me every so often while I whisper to him about logistical concerns."

Eden laughed and shook her head. "So you're doing okay? The changes...they aren't holding you back any?"

"Nah. I mean, some of it is kinda fun. Being a hot lady and all. Don't get me wrong! I'm glad you pulled me out before I had my mind zapped completely. It was the perfect simulation, y'know? I wouldn't have been able to leave by myself. It was like...like by brain was placed IN the program. It all felt so real, even though it was obviously fake. Like I was just another character in the story blindly accepting the insanity. I'm different, but I'm doing good work and I'm making a lot of people happy. And that's what I want. So...yeah, I'm doing okay."

They stood in silence. Eden bit her upper lip, looking like something was gnawing at her. Before the diplomat could ask, Eden spoke first.

"How would you know?"

Chrissy raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

She shifted her stance, leaning her side against the railing. "How would you know if you left the machine? If it was the perfect simulation, everything feeling real and as if it was actually happening...how would you know if you had actually left?"

The diplomat tried to come up with a satisfying answer. When one eluded her, she stared at her hands. "I...I don't know."

Sergeant Eden spat over the edge and turned to leave. "Forget it. It's a dumb question. Listen, I'll come by your place later and we can catch me up on what's going on politically. I've been out of the loop for months."

Chrissy nodded absently, hearing but not watching her friend depart. The question rolled around in the former bimbo's mind. Had she really escaped? Was she still plugged in, programmed into subservience by SIGMA? And if so: what was happening to her body? Those final scenarios from just before Eden had cut the cord, of being a totally obedient sex slave to every other human. An empty cumpuppet made to do any degrading thing imaginable while smiling the whole time. The professor in the simulation had said she only needed to use a fraction of her mind's capacity to be a Good Girl. Could it have tied up the rest in some kind of simulation?

No. That was silly. It had been months since she'd been rescued. She'd met so many people, done so many new things. There's no way a simulation would provide that. And it definitely wouldn't lock her away completely from her body. That was impossible. This was real. She was real.

Chrissy hit the hay early. That guard would be back in a few hours to see that she kept her plug in, after all! She returned to her bedroom, slipped out of her sundress with a single motion, and flopped down onto her back. Her breasts flattened, and she squeezed them. Real. She squeezed her tiny clit. Real. She snuggled under the covers and reached out for blissful unconsciousness.

Her first dream was strange. She was back under SIGMA's watch, but in a glittering apartment. One man and one woman, both with huge dicks, pounded both her holes with eager thrusts. Her body had been covered in neon tattoos, all of degrading statements and names. 'CUM DUMP' covered her lower back, while 'SUCK' and 'HOLE' marked either side of her mouth. An arrow pointed down to her leaking genitals, instructing the reader to 'MAKE THIS SQUIRT', while a pair of bulls-eyes around her nipples requested interested parties to 'CUM ON THESE'. Her clients stuffed her desecrated body full of thick spunk before letting her fall over. They left shortly afterward, discarding her like a used tissue.

This Chrissy was still Candi, her eyes blank and glazed, cum and drool lazily spilling from her vacant smile. Her whole world devolved into the spaces between orgasmic bliss. Another patron entered her apartment, and the brief moment of clarity was replaced with the artificially induced lust of a sextoy. She presented her cum-filled ass and was taken again moments later.

That scary sight didn't last long. By the time she woke up the next day, she'd forgotten all about it.

After all, it was just a dream.