The Programmer: Chapter Two

Ostensibly, Barbie was a programmer. However, it was not computers that she programmed. It took a month to put the process in place, pulling from the lab's various projects. The first test was Jason, her son.

The young man was far too closeted and shy for her liking. He'd never succeed at anything that way. He needed a boost of confidence, some prowess, and experience. A supplement cocktail provided his physique, chiseling his muscles into something that a beach bro would be in awe of. His cock grew, lengthening and thickening until it was a slab of fuck meat any porn star would be proud to pound cunt with. Slipping subliminal messages and hypnotic recordings into his shows and games was an easy thing.

Within a week, Jason was happily going to town on her cougar cunt, slamming her fuck hole nightly as if it were his duty and right. Barbie couldn't have been more proud. While he remained a mommy's boy, she regularly came home to find him shoving his thick meat down the throat of random MILFs from the neighborhood, or stretching out their neglected pussies.

Finding clients proved a fairly easy thing, too. There was no shortage of perverts in the circles of government and finance.

While the rest of society marveled and railed at the strange shift two of its most prominent members had undergone, Barbie used her new influence with the bimbofied Helon Frisk to gain access to the upper echelons of that society. Soon after Victor's harassment and molestation inquiry began, Barbie landed her first client. In retrospect, she should not have been surprised.

Neil Dyson had a fondness for blonde white girls, preferably fresh out of high school. Barbie wasn't hung up on the morality of it. The job was the job.

Within a week, she'd procured a slim blonde named Tracy while the girl was visiting the nearby college campus during Senior Week. While Tracy, wide-eyed and full of wonder, toured the campus, Barbie applied the Scent of Agreement and lured Tracy back to her new lab in the basement. There, Tracy underwent changes.

An assortment of supplements, laced with the Bimbo Butter, gave her the tits of a sex doll. A mix of subliminal messages, constant arousal, stimulation, and hypnotic videos, programmed her with the obedience and sex drive a real-life fuck doll needed. At the end of it, Dyson had his obedient sex slave, and Barbie had made her first sale.

It didn't take long for word of her services to make the rounds amongst the circle of wealthy perverts. Soon, Barbie had implemented her methods to convert a conservative Christian senator's daughter into his personal anal whore, an oil tycoon's mother-in-law into his dream cougar, and a tech startup bro's own mother into a compliant fuck hole. Business was off to an excellent start.

The next acquisition, however, would be a bit different. This job was not a single individual, but a couple. Barbie scouted them for a couple of days before making her approach, catching them walking through a campus park just after dusk.

Evan was a promising young athlete, the son of a well-connected venture capitalist. His girlfriend, Maribel, was a busty Puerto Rican, short but stacked, and his high school sweetheart. They made a cute couple. But not for long.

Wearing the Scent of Agreement, Barbie approached the pair as they strolled, hand-in-hand, amidst the trees. She wore one of her favorite outfits, a leopard print mini dress that clung to her enormous jugs and pushed them up like a serving tray. When she approached, Evan's eyes widened, while Maribel grimaced in disgust. Evan's eyes trailed up her fishnet-covered legs and rested on her tits.

"Evening, folks," Barbie said. "Mind if I trouble you lovely kiddos with a question?"

"Uh, sure," Evan said, clearly flustered.

Maribel elbowed him in the ribs.

"What do you think of this?" Barbie asked and flashed them her phone screen.

The app blasted the pair with a hypnotic spiral, followed by a sequence of flashing lights. Red, green, blue, blue, green, red, red. As they stared, entranced by the lights, Barbie asked, "What are your plans for the evening?"

"Nothing," Evan droned like a robot.

"I was hoping Evan would fuck me," Maribel answered.

"Well, that's excellent," Barbie said. "Let's forget all about that and you two can come with me. How does that sound?"

"Yeah," Evan agreed.

"Okay," said Maribel.

Like a couple of drones, they followed Barbie to her car, where she put them into the back seat. She slid behind the wheel, placed a set of earmuffs over her ears, and jacked up the radio. A series of static pops blared from the speakers, making her passengers groan. As she drove, the static gave way to an oscillating whine. Evan and Maribel stared ahead, mouths open and drool leaking down their chins.

At home, the couple followed Barbie into the house. Jason sat on the living room couch, nude, while Mrs. Barnes from three doors down lay in a heap on the floor. White goo leaked from her every hole.

"Mommy!" Jason yelled and stood to plant a sloppy kiss on his mother's lips.

When Barbie pulled away, Jason looked longingly at Maribel and said, "I can fuck it?"

"Not this one, honey," Barbie said. "She's property. Why don't you take Mrs. Barnes back home to her husband? And do put on some pants this time. It was awfully difficult to make that last officer go away. You're lucky Chief Stanton was in the market for a bimbo."

"Yes, Mommy," Jason said and threw the half-conscious MILF over his shoulder.

Barbie put her acquisitions on the couch, bound their wrists, and placed smelling salts under their noses. Evan and Maribel jerked and stared around the room.

"Where are we?" Evan asked. "What's going on?"

Barbie sat on the coffee table. "You've been acquired by some wealthy individuals," she explained. "My job is to program you and train you to serve them as their compliant fuck slaves."

"You're joking," Maribel said. "This is a joke."

"It is not," Barbie assured her. "You've both dropped out of college already. It's been arranged."

"People will look for us!" Evan cried. "Do you know who I am?"

Barbie laughed. "Of course. You're Evan, a brainless fuck servant who only cares about pussy. And you, honey, are Mari, a raging bisexual slut who craves humiliation and domination."

The couple shared a look.

"My family has money," Evan said. "They'll pay you whatever you want. Just let us go and we can… we can forget all about this."

"By tomorrow morning, your families won't remember who you are. You won't exist. No. I'm afraid you're here to stay."

Barbie pulled a small kit from her purse and opened it, withdrawing a syringe.

"Now just relax. You'll feel a slight pinch, but it will all be over in a moment. Once this stuff kicks in, your brains will become like pliable dough, ready to accept whatever I want to put into them. Now there won't quite be enough room for who you are now. Some of that will stick around just to make things fun, but we'll have you programmed and ready for service in no time."

"No!" Maribel shouted and began to cry.

"Don't! Just… just let her go! I'll do whatever you want," Evan pleaded.

"I'm afraid you're a package deal," Barbie said as she took Evan's arm and pushed the syringe into it.

Evan groaned and slumped.

"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Don't!" Maribel begged.

"Don't worry," Barbie said. "I'm going to make you better."

She pushed the syringe into Maribel's arm.