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Altering Annika, Chapter Four

Previous Parts: One, Two, Three

Chapter Four: Adjusting Annika

Having slept little the previous night, Davis was already tired. However, no good thing comes without work. And so, he set about making a few modifications while Annika slept.

The first was the exercise bike. Davis used the bike, but not frequently. He preferred to run outside. The bike was okay in a pinch, but it always felt kind of like cheating. Now, the bike was in the living room, in front of the picture window.

Next, he suction-cupped a fake cock to one of the dining chairs. This chair he defaced with a black marker. Across its back, he wrote, “Annie” in big, block letters. Finally, he returned to the couch and spent an hour shuffling files on the porn box from his phone. The lack of sleep, by then, had caught up with him. He set the motion detectors on the camera again, clicked off the light, and fell asleep on the couch. The other changes would have to wait.


Davis woke Annika at six in the morning by nudging the dog bed. Once again, she poked her darkened eyes from the safety of the blanket and whined.

“Morning, sunshine,” Davis said. “Since you’ve offered to cook, you’re on breakfast duty this morning.”

Annika peeled back the blanket and Davis saw that she’d slept in the dress.

“I’d like to have Morrocan baked eggs with strawberry-filled velvet crepes. A side of bacon, lightly cooked, would go nicely with that. You’ll find all the ingredients in the kitchen.”

Annika looked at him with confusion and dismay.

“I don’t know what any of that is,” she said.

Davis rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, “Okay. Maybe we’re jumping the gun. You’ll learn. What do you know how to make?”

Annika stretched, pulling the dress up and showing her bare crotch. She reddened, tugged the dress down, and her tits nearly burst from the top. Davis struggled to keep the smile from his lips and held her embarrassed gaze.

“I… I can make the bacon,” she offered. “And I know how to do scrambled eggs.”

“That will do for now. We’re going to have to work on that. You can’t cook in the dress, though. You’ll get grease on it.”

Annika looked around as if expecting another option to present itself. It did not.

Davis sighed and said, “I have an apron you can put on upstairs.”

He turned and went up. A moment later, Annika followed, wrapped in the blanket. Davis handed her an apron. It was another thing her mother had left behind. The words, “Cock the Cook,” were written across the front.

“I have to check my email and take care of a few things,” Davis said. “Go ahead and get started.”

“May I please use the bathroom first?” she asked.

Davis mulled it over and said, “Tell you what.”

Annika’s shoulders slumped.

“I’ll give you a choice. You can use the bathroom inside, but your breakfast will be some of the leftover dog food. Or, you can go piss out back. I’ll have to spank you for being a grass-pissing slut, of course, but you’ll have the breakfast you’re about to cook, and I’ll let you take some toilet paper with you.”

Annika made to stamp her foot in frustration, but she put her leg back down gently and she nodded. Davis went to the bathroom, popped the lock with his pocketed pin key, and returned with a roll of paper. He handed it over.

“Make sure you wash your hands before you get breakfast going,” he reminded her.

He left the kitchen. Annika dithered, looked at the camera, and then she stepped into the corner, dropped the blanket, and put on the apron. Davis busied himself in his office, placing orders for some necessities for Annika’s continued training and humiliation. Tempting as it was to watch her through the cameras, he decided to stay focused. When he returned to the kitchen, Annika was putting the greasy bacon onto a plate and had eggs in a pan.

He waited at the table until she finished. She brought him a plate first, which he appreciated, and then spooned more food onto her own. She set the plate on the table, paused for just a moment when she saw the name, “Annie,” scrawled on the back of the chair, and then pulled it out. She quickly looked at Davis with her lips set in a tight frown.

“Have a seat,” he said, gesturing with his fork. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. I think the Kellogg boys came up with that. You know, marketing, to sell more cereal. Catchy, though, right?”

“Why?” she asked, her eyes flashing with anger.

“Because if you sell anything, you need good marketing,” Davis answered.

“No! Why… this?” she indicated the fake, rubber cock attached to the seat.

“Oh! That. That’s to get your fuckhole in shape for the day you, inevitably, fail to make an adequate contribution to stay here. Once you’re getting pimped out or raped, whichever comes first, you’ll look back on this day and thank old Davis.”

Annika looked at the fake cock again and she flushed. She imagined her own failure.

“Do I have to?” she asked.

“Nope. Tell you what, though.”

“Ghg… fuckin’…”

“I’ll give you a choice. You can sit on that rubber dick and get your practice in, because in this house real people eat at the table, and you’ll have that delicious food you cooked up. It’s not too bad, by the way. Thanks. Or, You can take one of those cans of dog food to the basement and have that, while you masturbate to the porn box.”

Annika sat on the rubber cock, blushing and sniffling as the length of it slid into her fuck tunnel. By how easily it slid in, and the fact that she did not look at him, both of them knew that her cunt was wet.

“Eat up, Annie.”

Annika stared pointedly at the table as she ate her breakfast. She ate very slowly, but Davis didn’t rush her. Once she was finished, she took both plates away, rinsed them, and put them into the dishwasher. Then, she scrubbed the pans she’d used, without being asked, and added them to the dishwasher. Davis watched her wipe down the countertop, clean the grease from the stovetop, and then put the washrags into the sink-side basket.

“Nice work,” he complimented her. “Now, let’s have that spanking.”


Davis sighed and said, “Tell you what.”

Annika ran from the kitchen. Davis followed more slowly. Annika stood by the couch, hanging her head, hiding her face in her new hair. Davis took his seat and picked up the vibrator from the end table. Annika looked at it but she didn’t protest. She lay across his lap with her legs together and ass clenched.

“Open your legs, Annie,” Davis instructed.

Annika slowly parted her legs, just enough to allow him to push the toy between them. He switched it on and spent a minute running the toy between her wet lips as she held back little, pleasurable squeaks. Then, he gave her one hard smack.

“Ow!” she cried and kicked her legs.

Davis pushed the head of the toy into her cunt and she settled.

“I’d like to ask you some questions, Annie,” Davis said. “Your responses will dictate what happens. If you lie to me, you’ll get a good whack. If you’re honest, you won’t.”

Annika whined.

“First question. Is your slutty, homeless pussy wet?”

Annika sniffled and said, “Yes!”

Davis pushed the toy deeper into her cunt and gripped one of her ass cheeks roughly in his hand. Annika moaned.

“Was it wet before we went into the mall yesterday?”

“No,” Annika answered.

Davis gave her a hard whack on one cheek and she hollered. He pulled the toy out of her pussy.

“That was a lie, he said. “Try again. Was it wet before we went into the mall yesterday?”

“Yes,” Annika blubbered.

Davis pushed the toy against her clit and held it there until she began to squirm.

“Why was it wet, Annie?”

Annika groaned and her legs shook.

“Annie?” he said again.

“I don’t know!” she blurted.

Davis slid the toy off her clit and pushed it back into her.

“That was an honest answer,” he said.

“Who did that pasty-skinned stick of a twat cheat on you with? A girl or a boy?”

Annika let out a small sob and said, “A boy.”

Davis began to slowly fuck her pussy with the toy.

“What was his name?”

“Knuckles,” Annika said.

Davis spanked her and she yelped. He pulled the toy out.

“His parents named him Knuckles? That has to be a fucking lie.”

“Oscar!” Annika hollered. “Oscar Bartlett!”

Davis pushed the toy back into her cunt and Annika squirmed.

“Yeah, I guess I’d call myself Knuckles if my name was Oscar, too,” Davis grumbled. “Was that the first time your girlfriend had man sex?”

“No,” Annika admitted.

Davis angled the vibrator and pushed it against the special spot in her cunt that made her start trembling. Annika began to make slutty little noises and her legs quivered.

“Are you a lesbian, Annie?”

Annika shook and moaned as her orgasm neared and she squeaked, “I… I don’t…” but then she paused and said, “Yes!”

Davis slapped her ass. Annika screeched and then she orgasmed wetly on the toy, writhing on his lap like a slutty snake. Davis spanked her again, but this time she didn’t scream in pain. She gasped and her orgasm just continued. Davis let her ride it out, but she continued humping against the vibrator as he eased it back out of her cunt and teased her pussy with it.

“Do you want me to make you cum again, Annie?” he asked.

Annika wiggled her bottom and then she whispered, “Yes.”

“You just lied to me on purpose, didn’t you?”

Annika was silent for a moment as he continued to tease her slit, but when he pressed the toy back against her button she whined and said, “Yes!”

“Do you remember the special words you said for me yesterday?”

“Yes,” Annika said and squirmed her cunt against the vibrator.

“Say them again.”

Annika began to recite the phrase, “I’m a stupid, homeless slut, Sir!”

Davis pushed the vibrator into her.

“I’m a stupid, homeless slut, Sir!”

Annika’s legs had parted substantially, almost invitingly.

“I’m a stupid, homeless slut, Sir!”

Davis swapped the vibrator to his other hand and gently fucked her wet little box with it.

“I’m a… stupid… homeless slut, Sir!”

Annika began to hump her hips against his lap, trying to cum.

“I’m a… stupid… homeless... slut, Sir!” she whispered.

Davis moved his free hand to her clit and began to rub it gently with his finger.

“I’m… a… stupid, fuck! Homeless… slut… Sir!”

He could see and feel her body vibrating as she neared her peak. He pushed the vibrator deep and she lost the phrase, the words turning into a slutty, needy moan. Davis released the vibrator, brought his hand down on her ass, and Annika came with a sharp cry.


Davis imagined that he’d soon have the most spotless bathrooms in town. Though she’d already done them yesterday, he had Annika clean all the bathrooms again, after which he provided her with a toothbrush. While she went about this task and showered, Davis busied himself preparing two shopping lists.

Annika returned from her shower wearing a towel and looking pleased with herself.

“I put all the laundry into the washer for you,” she said.

“Good girl,” Davis replied and she beamed.

Though her misery was a great amusement and better than Viagra for getting the dick up, the sight of her smiling brought a different sort of satisfaction. She’d never been the most cheery kid, to begin with, which he supposed he understood. Growing up with no dad, and having only her mother’s gruff boyfriend around for a male role model, wasn’t exactly sparkles and sunshine. Well, the misery wasn’t over yet.

“Go and put on the skirt and kissy top, along with the white heels. We need to go do some shopping,” he instructed.

The smile was instantly replaced with a crimson flush and a wide-eyed look of fear. Davis picked up the apron from the table and said, “Tell you what.”

Annika moved so fast that he was actually surprised the towel didn’t remain floating in the air behind her, like some kind of cartoon. That was good. She was learning that questioning his commands would only lead to her making choices that would, invariably, be worse than what he’d instructed.

When she returned, she was every bit as cock-hardening as he’d imagined. The glossy heels were still difficult for her to walk in, but her long, bare legs were stunning. The mini skirt was tight and short, ending an embarrassing inch below her crotch. Davis thought of the hidden, slippery little treasure just beneath, which he knew was wet. He understood why, even though Annika didn’t. Yet.

Her trim, flat tummy was as bare as her legs, while her large tits were tightly encased in the form-fitting white top, presenting him with an abundant view of her large, firm tits. Braless as they were, her nipples made hard little tents in the thin fabric. The long, blonde hair framed her pretty face, which, it seemed, could not decide whether she should be disgusted or flattered by his obviously appraising examination.

Annika fidgeted adorably with the hem of the skirt, as though tugging it down would somehow cause it to lengthen. He made a little spinning motion with his finger and Annika slowly turned in a circle.

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing,” he said.

He snatched a hand towel from the nearby sink and said, “Let’s go.”

Davis got into the car and placed the towel on Annika’s seat as she walked around. When she opened the door to get in, she looked at the towel and a further blush reddened her cheeks. She didn’t ask why he’d put it there. When she got in, she folded her arms under her tits and sulked.

Davis drove to a nearby shopping center, parked in front of the grocery store, and handed Annika one of the lists. She took it, puzzled, and then he handed her a credit card.

“I need to pick up a few things,” he said. “I’d like you to go in and do the grocery shopping.”

“By myself?” she asked.

“Yes. While you’re in there, I want you to pick up any… feminine supplies you might need for the rest of the week. Don’t bother with any more than that, since after a week, you’ll be getting what you need from a homeless shelter or charity.”

Annika flushed, but this time with anger. That was good. He wanted her to rise to the challenge. Though she wasn’t the most competitive girl, her complicity in her own downfall was a necessary step.

Then, she looked doubtful and she asked, “You’re going to come back for me, right?”

“Do you think I’m going to just leave you out here with my credit card?”

Annika looked at the card, perhaps checking to see that it wasn’t expired.

“Annie,” he said, “This is me trusting you. Can I do that?”

Annika nodded. She looked at the store and shuddered, obviously thinking of going in alone, dressed like a cocktease. She looked back, but Davis did not relent. She was going into the store. Fortunately for her, it was still fairly early and things didn’t look busy.

Annika opened the door and put one foot out, but then she stopped. She turned back and Davis felt certain she was going to balk. Instead, she did something that he did not expect. She, blushingly, put a very quick kiss on his cheek and then scrambled from the car.

She slammed the door and tottered away unsteadily on the heels. Davis wiped his cheek, and then his eyes fell on the towel. It wasn’t just wet, like yesterday. It was visibly soaked. He grinned and pulled the car away.

Davis made his first stop at a novelty store in the same strip mall. Here, he picked a variety of posters to decorate Annika’s bedroom with. He also added a few extra items that seemed like good training aids, or just a little fun, as well as a very slutty maid outfit. He intended to have Annika cleaning daily, so he figured she may as well dress the part.

His next stop was at a hardware store, where he acquired new locks for the bathroom doors. He also added some furnishings for the basement, but those would not go in immediately. Creature comforts, he decided, were going to be like treats that Annika could earn by further domesticating herself. His third stop was a fitness shop, where he picked up a few pairs of sports bras, very form-fitting shorts, a pair of sneakers, socks, and a few additional pieces of exercise equipment. Finally, he made a quick stop at a bookstore, where he purchased a number of magazines, cookbooks, and some teeny-bopper fashion and makeup guides.

When he returned to the store, Annika was waiting at the curb with a filled shopping cart. The light breeze ruffled her tiny skirt. Agitation and anxiety were written across her face as she toyed with her hair and looked this way and that, waiting for his return. She practically jumped when he pulled up and hurried to push the cart to the back of his SUV. Davis popped the back hatch and watched her further anxiety in his mirror, as she hefted the bags and put them in. With his other purchases in the way, she was forced to bend over or even put one knee up on the back bumper to get the bags in without spilling them. She wheeled the cart a safe distance away and scurried back to the car.

“Grocery is a tough gig,” he said, as she got into the car. “People appreciate it when you put the carts in the corral.”

Annika, wisely, did not argue. She got back out, wheeled the cart to the nearest corral, and then hurried back to the car. Several passersby honked at her complimentarily. When she finally got back in, every visible inch of her skin (which was most of it) was flushed. She folded her arms under her breasts again and trembled in the seat.


Davis lugged his own purchases inside, while Annika brought in the bags of groceries. She arrayed the food items on the table, separated those that were not food, and then began putting them away. Davis, then, handed her a recipe card that he’d written out.

“I’d like you to make this for lunch,” he instructed. “I have a little work to do.”

“May I please have some water?” she asked as she took the recipe card.

“You may.”

“Thank you.”

“Good girl,” he said.

Annika blushed. Davis left her to make lunch, all of the ingredients for which he’d been sure to put on the list. His own purchases he took to his room. His first task was to cut the crotch out of all of the shorts he’d purchased. That done, he cut sizeable holes in the cups of each of the sports bras. The magazines, cookbooks, and fashion guides, he carried down to the living room.

Annika was still busy in the kitchen, attempting to figure out how to make the recipe correctly. Davis turned on the TV and began curating a channel list for Annika’s viewing pleasure. It was choice work. He added every season of reality shows that featured brainless subjects, such as housewives with too much money and not enough cock in their life, or struggling teens who paid too much mind to their cunts and had been knocked up at too young an age.

He supplemented these with vintage programming featuring patriarchal representations of the good old American housewife, in her role as a servant, made, and breeder. Several cooking programs went into the list, as well as infomercials showcasing laundry products, household cleaners, kitchen gadgets, fantastical sweepers, mind-boggling mops, and indelibly useful irons.

Lastly came the music channels. All-Girl Pop was the most obvious choice. Annika would need plenty of examples of cockdrunk, stupefied twats, who crooned about inane and substanceless topics to encourage the latest generation of upcoming bimbos. In addition to these poster girls with more tits than brains, he added some trashy hip-hop. Davis, himself, was not a fan of it. However, when it came to objectifying women in song, it was hard to beat.

Satisfied with his good work, he returned to the kitchen to check on Annika. To his delight, she’d stripped off the skirt and top, and stood, working at the counter, wearing the apron and her white heels. He watched her exposed ass wiggle for a moment before she noticed him. She immediately tried to cover her ass and blushed furiously.

“I… It’s almost ready,” she stammered.

Davis took a seat at the table and went through the other items he’d had her purchase. Despite having spanked her ass three times and vibrated her cunt to two orgasms, Annika still made every attempt to shield her butt from his gaze. He made no attempt to gawk.

Among the items he’d had her purchase were lipsticks in both a red and pink shade, various makeups, eyeshadows, eyeliners, mascara, and rouge. Among the feminine supplies was an item that answered a question he’d had. Tampons. He hadn’t expected a girl who’d been in a lesbian relationship to be on birth control, but then, he hadn’t been sure.

His dick hardened as he let his imagination run. His eyes flicked across her for just an instant as she bent to pull a tray from the oven. He let it play out, visualizing her just like that, as he bent her over the counter. She’d be wearing that little apron, while he pushed his cock into her servile, domesticated little bimbo cunt. She’d grunt and groan like a slutty animal as her braless tits jiggled. He could wrap his fingers in that blonde hair and plug her tight, young, gripping slutbox, until he fucked a baby into her womb. She’d squeal and buck as he pumped her full of baby batter, calling him daddy as she thanked him for making her useful.

His eyes were on the table once more by the time she turned around and carried the tray to the table. She placed it on a hot pad nearby. Davis set the makeup and other supplies to the side. Annika returned to the counter, wearing her oven mitts, and brought back a salad. Davis inhaled the aroma of a well-cooked meal and nodded approvingly at her hopeful look.

“Smells great, Annie,” he said. “You’re a good girl.”

Annika blushed and let herself smile. It lasted only a second. She brought him a glass of water and then asked, “May I please have some water?”

“Of course,” he said. “Thank you for asking.”

Annika served him a plate, then got her water. When she pulled out her chair, her flush returned. She slowly sat in the chair, averting her eyes, as she bit her lip cutely and took the fake cock up her pussy. Her hands trembled as she picked up her utensils and squirmed in the seat.


Annika was, at first, confused as Davis specified how she would continue to contribute to the household and prove her worth. She put back on her skirt and top. When he ordered her to spend two hours watching TV in the living room, she didn’t understand how this made any contribution.

“I’ve set you up with your own programming guide,” he explained and handed her the remote. “You can watch any show you want, as long as it’s on the Annie list.”

Annika took the remote and said, “Okay?”

She knew there had to be some catch. The proverbial other shoe did, in fact, drop when Davis reached into his pocket and handed her a small, silver egg with a string attached.

“What is this?” she asked, turning it over in her hand.

“It goes in your cunt,” he explained.

Annika blushed.

“You just switch it on and put it up there while you watch your shows. I’ll be back in two hours. I need to take care of a few things.”

Annika’s confusion did not subside as he left her to watch TV. He heard the sound of the egg vibrating in her hand and her frustrated sigh as he left the room. He took the opportunity to retrieve a pair of fitness shorts and a sports bra for the next item on her agenda, as well as the posters. On his way down to the basement, he heard the sound of the latest brainless barbie, Bratty Britt, “singing” a line to a thoroughly degrading song.

I’m a fuckpuppet, baby

A trashy little slut.

I’m a fuckpuppet, baby

Put it up my butt.

Davis took the posters downstairs and worked at putting them up around the bare walls. They were appropriate for both a man cave, he thought, and the lair of a soon-to-be-domesticated bimbo. All of them were large representations of slutty blondes with obscene melons, performing various acts of self-debasement.

In one, a blonde bimbo rubbed her spread cunt, while she stared vapidly into space, her tongue lolling from her mouth in a braindead look of goondom. In another, a big-titted barbie sucked on a candy stick as she squeezed one of her oversized funbags in her hand. Another showed a platinum blonde cock toy looking ahead at the viewer. Her gigantic udders were mashed beneath her and her ass was up in the air. She was sucking on a dildo. More posters went up, displaying more blonde sluts sucking cock, taking cock, toying their fuckholes, or otherwise behaving in enticing and entertaining manners.

Satisfied that Annika would detest these latest additions to her living space, he returned to the first floor. The sounds of two catty women, arguing over which one of them a mutual love interest found hotter, drifted from the living room. A raucous audience hollered and jeered as, presumably, the two women decided to settle the dispute by pulling one another’s hair and slapping each other around a bit.

“Let’s bring out… the other woman!” the show’s host proclaimed, and the paid audience went wild once more.

Annika let out a frustrated groan as Davis passed the doorway. Whether it was a groan of sexual frustration due to the vibrating egg in her pussy, or one of displeasure from watching the stupid show, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter, he supposed. He stopped in the office, made a call and scheduled Annika two appointments, then checked his emails and deliveries.

By the time all of this was complete and he returned to the living room, Annika’s TV time was almost up. He joined her on the couch for the last few minutes. She was visibly aroused from two hours with the egg in her cunt and he was certain that she’d been masturbating when he entered the room. Her legs snapped shut when he entered, however. The last few minutes of the program seemed to have resolved the love… pentagon, Davis guessed, because the male love interest left the stage with a striking redhead that was way out of his league. As the show outroed, the three dejected women left on the stage began hissing and cursing at one another once more, each of them blaming the other for their loss of the prize.

“Good show?” Davis asked.

Annika shook her head.

“Well, plenty more on the Annie list,” he said and shrugged. “Ready for your exercise?”

“Exercise?” Annika asked and groaned.

“It’s important to stay in shape. When you’re out on the streets, you need to be fleet-footed to stay ahead of potential rapists. You don’t want to get winded when you’ve got a whole gang of horny thugs ready to take turns on you, right?”

Annika looked as if she might start crying again.

“Anywho,” Davis continued, “I picked you up some fitness gear and I want you to get in at least one hour of exercise a day. I’ve made you a routine, so you can hit all the important muscle groups.”

He handed her a schedule.

“Exercise bike?” she asked.

Davis nodded and handed her the bunched-up sports bra and shorts.

“You go get changed into those and I’ll have the bike ready when you get back. Oh, and pull that egg out of your pussy. Just leave it with your clothes.”

Annika, reluctantly, took the two items and shuffled out of sight. Davis went to the bike and pulled the sheet off it, then opened the curtains. It was a lovely day out. He watched folks pass by walking dogs, jogging, and out for a casual stroll.

“Davis,” Annika called, peeking around the corner.

He turned.

“I… These have holes in them!”

“Gosh,” he said. “Cheap foreign garbage. Ruined from the start. Well, no choice right now but to wear them, right?”


Davis opened his mouth to speak, but Annika immediately decided it was better that he didn’t. She was getting good at this, he thought, as she stepped from around the corner. Her skin was nearly as pink as the shorts and top. The sports bra was, in hindsight, perhaps a size small. It did, however, crush her tits together in a most provocative way. Mashed as they were, her nipples sprouted from the holes he’d cut like they were begging to be sucked.

She slouched miserably as she padded across the room. He indicated that she should put on the new socks and shoes. When he stepped away from the bike and Annika saw it, she made an additional plea for mercy, which Davis did not give her. Now, she understood the hole in the shorts. Mounted to the bike’s seat was another rubber cock.

“People are going to see me!” she protested.

“They’re going to see a girl riding an exercise bike,” Davis countered. “I don’t believe that anyone in the neighborhood has x-ray vision.”

“Do I have to?” she begged.

“No, you don’t have to. Remember, this is all about choices, Annie. If you choose not to do the fitness program I’ve so carefully planned for you, you can choose not to stay the rest of this week. Then, the only choice you’ll need to make is which direction will take you furthest from the rape gang that’s going to be chasing your naked ass, when you’re out on the streets.”

Annika sighed and, awkwardly, mounted the dildo. She slid her pussy down, giving a small moan as the wet sound of her aroused cunt swallowed the length of the toy. Then, she shook as she squirmed on the seat, trying to find some measure of comfort. She could not. Davis, helpfully, showed her how to work the bike. Then, he made her stand on the pedals, which brought the dildo halfway out of her pussy, so that he could adjust the height of the seat. She sank back down with another slutty moan.

“One hour,” he said and punched it into the bike’s timer. “Oh,” he said and snapped his fingers. “Almost forgot.”

He pulled a set of wireless earbuds from his pocket and handed them to her, along with what looked like an MP3 player. She took the device, which was embossed with a blue “D” logo and the words DomPod Pro on the front.

“Workout tunes,” Davis explained.

Annika inserted the earbuds and clipped the little box to her waistband. She pressed play and began to peddle the bike. While Davis busied himself with other work, Annika reluctantly peddled the bike to a sweat, with the dildo stuffed in her wet pussy.

The sounds of encouraging, motivational workout tracks played in the earbuds, while below these, the advertised messaging which was the device’s true purpose filled her mind.

Step, step, step down the dark, black stairs.

One at a time, step, step, step.

Down, down, down, into the dark, black room.

Tick, tick, tick, goes the clock in the dark.

And below the track, a quick, pitched whine that focused her mind on the wordless music, the rhythm, the cyclical motion of the pedals, and the way her body moved the dildo inside her cunt.


Davis returned at the end of the hour to find Annika still pushing the pedals, breathing raggedly, sweating from exertion, but with a determined look in her eyes. If he hadn’t stopped her, he thought she might have pedaled the thing until she fell off. He had to shut off the bike and snap his fingers twice in front of her face to snap her out of her trance. The DomPod, he assumed, may have been well worth the price.

Annika removed the earbuds and Davis had to help her off of the bike, then support her as she staggered to the couch on wobbly legs. He handed her a thick shake, which she swallowed, then gave a grimace of disgust.

“What is that?” she asked.

“Post-workout stuff. It will help keep your legs from feeling like you want to cut them off tomorrow.”

Annika groaned and stretched her tired legs.

“Now you rest up a few minutes, and then you can go shower off before you get started on dinner,” Davis instructed.

“Dinner? What time is it?”


Annika shook her head. It felt scrambled. She could still hear that music. After a few minutes of rest, she started for the shower, making pained squeaks of displeasure all the way up the steps.

After Annika made dinner, which she ate on the dildo chair, Davis declared that it was reading time. He handed her the stack of magazines, cookbooks, and fashion guides. He also gave her back the vibrating egg.

“What you read is up to you, but as long as you’re here, you’re going to educate yourself,” he explained. “And reading should be a pleasure, so you’re going to do it with the egg up your cunt.”

Annika accepted the egg and the reading material, which she rummaged through with a look of further disgust. Feminine Focus, read one of the magazine’s titles, and on the cover was a sexy, young model with half of her tits spilling over her top. “How to curl his toes with nothing but your tongue: The Good Girl’s Guide to a Bad Girl’s Blowjob,” declared one of the insets.

Tease N Please, read another, and the cover displayed a blonde teen with wavy hair and short, denim shorts, her posterior thrust proudly and provocatively behind her. “Be the naughty girl he wants, and keep the competition guessing,” promised a featured article.

The way to his heart was the title of one cookbook, and Annika leafed through the pages to find dozens of recipes.

The Year in Fashion, read another thick tome, and within were pictures of gorgeous, made-up women, dolled and dressed in all manner of revealing dresses, swimwear, and office-inappropriate attire. The Domestic Doll, read the cover of another. “Do more around the house with less, and juggle all that hard work with fewer hands,” the message read. On the cover was a confused blonde with far too many tasks to accomplish. The home around her was piled with laundry, dishes, toys, and stacks of schoolwork. She held a copy of the book as if it would save her life and sanity, while a dour and disapproving man in a suit glunched at her from the doorway.

He left her to her reading, then gave her another hour of TV time. Annika was a quivering mess of slutty need by the time he sent her to bed. She’d spent breakfast, lunch, and dinner with a dildo in her pussy. She’d endured three hours of TV and an hour of reading with the egg in her cunt, and another hour spacing out on the bike, with a rubber dick plugging her already aroused hole. Davis had, also, spanked her that morning and made her orgasm twice with the vibrator. By the time he walked her down the steps for her final humiliation of the evening, Annika was, again, sweating, flushed, confused, and her nipples were threatening to poke through the thin material of the kissy shirt.

When they hit the bottom of the steps and she took in the new wall art, she stared about in further confusion and made an incoherent noise.

“What is this?” she squeaked.

“This is my basement, which I have decorated to my taste,” Davis explained.

He handed her the remote control and the vibrator. She looked at them in confusion.


“Now, I know you aren’t too fond of all that straight porn on the box, so I’ve made some changes more in line with your lezzie preferences. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still straight porn. That’s kind of my thing. But it should be more in line with what your pussy likes.”

“Why are you making me do this?” Annika whined.

“Do what?”

“You’re… you’re making me do… slutty things.”

Davis shook his head and reminded her, “I’m not making you do anything. You’re choosing to act slutty. You can choose not to at any moment. The door is wide open.”

“Are you… are you going to make me have sex with you?”

“Absolutely not!” Davis stated. “That’s rape. You won’t find any rapists in this house. Unless… are you a rapist?”

“What? No!”

“Then, neither of us has anything to worry about. Now, go watch the porn box, and when you orgasm, you can go to bed.”

Davis turned to go, then stopped, snapped his fingers, and said, “Shoot! Almost forgot.”

Annika paled, ready for the next sucker punch.

“There’s a present for you under the bed. I threw that pissy blanket of yours in the wash, and I don’t want you getting cold.”

Annika lifted the dog bed and pulled out a new, thick, comfy blanket. There were tears in her eyes as she unfolded it. On the front was a sexy, fantasy princess with large tits that spilled over her low-cut dress. When she looked up, Davis was already walking up the stairs.

In the living room, he watched through the cameras as Annika settled into the dog bed, pulling the blanket over herself. She turned on the vibrator and it disappeared beneath the blanket. Her other hand navigated the remote, and what she saw didn’t seem to make her happy.

Davis couldn’t tell which video she picked, but he knew the few themes of those he’d moved into her folder. The majority of them were bimbo hypno videos, which were slutty montages set to brainless pop songs. Some of those were very lengthy. Still, others contained more gender betrayals, in which women tied up other women and “forced” them into sex with unkind men.

As hot as the girl’s pussy was from the long day of stimulation, whatever she’d chosen made her cum pretty quickly. He watched her quiver and shake as she orgasmed. Only, she didn’t stop at one. Instead, with her eyes fixed on the screen, she went for a second one.


Like the sound of this story? Grab the finished book in the shop. Altering Annika is the story of a girl's choices, made in desperation, and the changes those choices bring to her life and her sexuality. 26,000 words and 7 chapters.

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