Tara rubbed at the back of her neck, where the raised skin was still irritated and sore. She could feel the outline of the thing, a small square that felt much larger under her fingers.
“You’ll get used to it,” the nurse was saying, wearing a smile that looked plastered on and false.
She draped her long blonde hair over her shoulder and shifted uncomfortably in the hospital gown. She still felt as if she had been rushed into the decision, something Bryce wanted far more than she did, but he’d had his for over a year and was an evangelist for the thing.
When the chips first hit the market, promising a level of connectivity that was far greater and more convenient than smart phones or tablets, Tara thought it was all too much. The thought of having some wirelessly connected device inserted into the base of your neck… well, it felt like science fiction, and not the good kind. It was a product of some dystopia, she had thought.
But then Bryce, who moved in shortly before he’d been implanted, had the procedure done, and he’d been immediately infatuated. He said it was like having the whole web in your brain, an instant access to the breadth of the world’s knowledge. And, he laughed, there weren’t any of those annoying pop-up ads.
He wasn’t the kind to apply constant pressure or bully, but Bryce brought it up now and again, especially when he came across some article only he could see detailing some new application of the thing. The last one he brought up had been the ability to connect between two implants on a secure band, allowing the other user to experience the other’s thoughts and emotions. While it sounded a bit far-fetched, Bryce had assured he he’d tried it with a work friend, and they’d been able to play some video game they both liked as one entity, a shared sense of purpose he’d called it. And, Bryce added, sex while connected in such a way was supposed to be mind-blowing.
Not that they were slouches in that department. Tara had been an enthusiastic lover, and she had been graced with features that made her the center of attention when Bryce would take her to some of his work events, where bespectacled employees would debate the utility of whatever piece of technology they were developing. It was a bit over Tara’s head, but she smiled and nodded, and took the compliments from Bryce’s co-workers.
“Most of them have never seen a girl as hot as you,” he told her once, “not in the flesh, anyway. Most of them are going to be shy and reserved, but let me know if someone gives you trouble.”
They hadn’t, of course. They were sweet and nervous and awkward, and seemed to respect her relationship with Bryce.
Bryce was the only who could make her feel uncomfortable. Usually, he was a sweetheart, but sometimes she would catch him staring at her, and not always in the way that suggested they were longtime lovers. These looks… they were possessive and frightening, as if he were measuring her for a cage. She rarely saw his flares of jealousy, but they scared her when they came. She told herself he was simply overreacting to some look or off-handed comment from another man, and he was no exception when it came to being inexperienced with a woman like Tara. Her model-quality looks had made her seem unattainable to most men, but Bryce had the courage to ask her out, and had been a brilliant and funny companion for the early days, and a considerate and wonderful lover in the months that followed.
She supposed it was these jealous incidents that convinced her to get the implant. If he could see her thoughts, he would know he had nothing to fear. She loved him, and maybe it took something like this stupid, itching chip to prove it.
He held her hand on the drive home, looking at her and smiling when his attention wasn’t on the road.
The chip had been activated before she left, and Tara found herself a little overwhelmed by the flood of information. She had to remember to set a keyword to launch the applications. With it open, every thought she had led to a whirl of related information. So, she focused on the feel of his hand and the drone of the car’s electric motor. Even this le to bursts of data, about electric cars, about the bones in the human hand.
“How do you turn it off?” she asked, turning to face Bryce.
His hair was dark, longer after she’d suggested he let it grow out, with a thin and pale face beneath.
“You don’t. But you can change the settings when we get home. I’ll help.”
“Thank you,” she smiled, leaning her head against the rest.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, lifting her hand to kiss her fingers. “My sweet doll.”
“With attitude,” she grinned and playfully swatted his shoulder.
“Of course,” he replied, and, for an instant, she saw that look, the one that made her a little afraid of Bryce, but it passed so quickly she wondered if she’d seen it at all.
“Do you see it?” she asked, leaning over his shoulder as his fingers flitted over the keyboard.
Bryce nodded. He said he could access it via their wifi, and he had some sort of interface opened up.
“So you can stop it from going all crazy?” Her head was starting to ache with all these insertions of bits of information based around every thought.
“Yeah,” he whispered, “I can stop it.”
And it was all gone. The noise that surrounded her brain since the implant was first turned on was gone and she felt peaceful once more.
“Thank you, honey,” she said. Only she didn’t. She had thought it, yes, but her mouth didn’t move. She frowned, except she didn’t do that, either. She was frozen, one hand on the back of his chair, leaning toward him, her body locked in position. She couldn’t even move her eyes as Bryce rose from his chair and she was forced to look down at the empty chair and the computer screen, displaying information about her chip.
“You were always so beautiful,” he was saying, from somewhere beside her. He was pacing again, she knew, but she couldn’t make herself find him with her eyes. A slow panic was building. She tried to tell herself this was some sort of joke, but the tone in his voice, the darkness beneath his words, convinced her this was not the case.
“I’ve seen the way you look at other men. The way they look at you. And I know you love it.”
She wanted to speak, to tell him how ridiculous he was being, how she would never consider another man, but she was made silent by his sudden control over her.
“Well, now you don’t have to worry about that anymore. You’ll never so much look at another man again unless I tell you to. My friends and I, we found a little hack for the implant. It doesn’t just integrate with your thoughts, it can change them.”
His face suddenly appeared before her, smiling up at her as he bent around her frozen body. Tara tried to plead with him, but felt again like a prisoner, locked inside her own flesh.
“A few keystrokes, and your mine, Tara. No more worry. My little doll. That’s what you’ve always been anyway. A pretty little mannequin to turn the head of any man you see. Well, you will never feel anything again but pleasure and absolute devotion to me. See?”
He kissed her cheek and returned to his chair. She saw him typing, saw the display changing, and she tried tow ill herself to scream, to plead, to beg. She could almost feel her mouth begin to move and then there was nothingness.
Tara stood, silent and still. Her mind was empty and blank, as if a great pause button had been pressed, freezing her voluntary nervous system while she still was allowed to breathe and her heart to beat.
Information came flooding in to fill the void, and Tara blinked rapidly as her brain was given new maps to follow, a new way of thinking provided by Bryce. It took less than ten seconds for Tara to be spirited away by this digital magic and to be replaced by TaraDoll. TaraDoll had no thoughts, it had instructions. It loved Bryce, and Bryce loved it, and she obeyed.
“Still with me, Doll?”
TaraDoll straightened, her arms straight and limp at her sides. “TaraDoll is with you, Bryce. TaraDoll needs you.”
Bryce looked her over, the slack expression, the way her eyes were pinned on him and only him. He rose from his chair, tilting his head to see if she was somehow putting him on, but he could see nothing in her eyes.
“Does my Doll need to be touched?”
“TaraDoll loves when Bryce touches it.”
He had built responses into her, working at nights on making the perfect toy for himself, one made of gorgeous warm flesh.
He lifted her skirt, already short to show off her long, slender legs, running his hand aggressively up her thigh. He pushed her panties aside to reveal her mound, rubbing her shaved slit.
“My TaraDoll likes to party,” he whispered in her ear. It was a trigger he’d given her that would release her inhibitions, allowing her to respond to his touch as a purely sexual creature. She would lust for him at those words, and he could tell her response was immediate by the sudden slickness her felt on his fingers.
He kissed her, and she responded, grinding on his fingers as her tongue met his and he leaned her back until she was on the floor. Hovering over her, watching the way she pulled at her clothes to remove them, to expose herself to her owner, made him harder still. He helped her with the skirt and panties, the elegant top and bra that barely contained her impressively bountiful chest and he stared down at his creation, a toy of flesh and bone crafted as his own personal playground. She was reaching for him, eager to have him inside her, and Bryce obliged.
When he plunged into her slippery hole, he moaned with her, her legs wrapping around his ass. He moved inside her, his TaraDoll’s pussy hot and wet for him, and she could sense his orgasm thanks to the connection he’d created with their implants. She would come only when he did, and he tried to make himself last, if only to tease her further.
Seeing her breasts bounce on her chest with every thrust and the savagely animal look of need in her eyes sent him careening over the brink of pleasure, and he erupted inside her, his seed blending with her natural lubrication to make her even more silken with his slowly fading rhythm. When he came, she cried out, fingernails digging into his back as she released, and Bryce swore it was the best climax he could recall her having.
When he was done, he stood, and nodded to his cock, glistening with their combined juices. TaraDoll was programmed for this, too, and rose to her knees, taking him in her mouth. She lapped him clean and sucked him dry, her obedient rinsing of his member as arousing as anything before.
When he was satisfied, he dressed himself partially. TaraDoll kept her place on the floor, nude and gloriously beautiful, vacant-eyed and ready to be filled by his words. He saw her pussy leak a thin line of fluid from her bare lips to the floor and he shivered with wanton delight.
“TaraDoll,” he said, buckling his belt, “I have clothes for you. Dress in the things I have laid out for you.”
“Yes,” TaraDoll said simply and rose, crossing the floor with efficient movement. She did not bother to clean herself, for she had been given no such instruction, and, when she reappeared, her hair was still disheveled and she reeked of sex.
“TaraDoll off,” he said, and TaraDoll slid to the floor, her body limp, her back against the wall. In her ‘off’ state, she would think no thoughts, would need no stimulus. She would simply be.
Bryce sat across from her, admiring her compliant beauty and the way she truly embodied to the doll she’d become. With her frilly dress and striped stockings, she looked like a grown-up toy. He thought he might add red circles to her cheeks to complete the look. She blinked occasionally, staring at nothing as her head tilted toward the floor, hands upturned and loose in her lap. He would wake her when he needed or wanted her, but, for now, he could simply stare at his possession and imagine the possibilities that awaited them.
Leave a Reply