Outside the simulation, Trax watched the progress he’d made breaching Perrion’s sense of superiority, and he could see his mind struggling with the last of its cognitive dissonance, as the program rooted out the remaining memories of Perrion’s old life as a powerful executive at one of the world’s great tech companies, and replaced them all with a new life as a submissive, obedient laborer, his entire life controlled by his new Boss, both inside and outside of work. Now, however, they were beyond the scope of Perrion’s old memories, and the program prompted him for a new simulation. He figured it would be good to solidify Perrion’s new, submissive instincts, and decided the best way to do that would be to ensure Perrion would want to submit to every man he came across, and not just his new Boss. He spliced in another simulation, and set it running, and then grabbed his own VR equipment, and got ready to jack in. He was tired of sitting on the sidelines–he wanted a taste of his revenge too.
“You paying attention?” Boss said, slapping Perrion upside the head, jolting him out of…wherever his mind had been, “Come on then, faggot, we don’t want to keep the boys waiting at the bar, do we?”
Perrion didn’t know what Boss was talking about. Everything about this seemed wrong, everything about this entire day had gone horribly wrong somewhere along the line, but he had no idea. It felt…like a dream, and yet, he knew it wasn’t one. This was just his life–wasn’t it? He nodded to Boss, and followed along behind him as they walked the busy streets to the bar. He…knew he shouldn’t know these streets, and at first, they seemed…fake, somehow. The people passing didn’t have clear faces that he could remember, half the shops didn’t have names, but that didn’t matter–what mattered was that he did what Boss told him to do. That’s what should really matter most to him.
He followed along, and as they went the places seemed to gain a new life, almost like he was remembering them all anew as he passed them by, his mind filling in all of the blanks it seemed to have with memories of the two of them walking this same path almost every night after work together…but where they ended up, he couldn’t remember for the life of him. Thankfully, Boss knew exactly where they were going– they ended up in a seedy district, full of body mod chop shops, niche pharmacies mixing new drugs the laws hadn’t caught up with yet, and plenty of brothels, though the whores outside all seemed to be…men.
Perrion found himself staring at them as he passed by, and he could imagine having sex with all of them, but in his mind’s eye, everything he envisioned himself servicing them, doing whatever they demanded from him, and when they were finished, Perrion knew he would always have to pay them extra for dealing with a loser like him. He was a loser. A submissive loser, whose purpose in life was to serve men, first and foremost.
Boss took them up the steps of a bar, one Perrion didn’t remember until they had stepped inside, and then, once he recognized it, he couldn’t imagine how he might have ever forgotten it. They headed for a large table at the back, where two of Boss’s friends were already seated, holocards shuffling themselves on the table…but Perrion didn’t take a seat with them. Without even needing to be told, he crawled under the table and made himself available for whatever the men might need–a blowjob, drinking a load of piss for them so they didn’t have to get up from the game, eating the ash off the end of a cigar, licking their dirty boots and dirtier feet clean.
Above him, the men chatted like all of this was normal, as they all got drunker and drunker, and the game grew rowdier and rowdier. At last, they all called it a night, and Perrion relaxed for a moment, exhausted…but there was something else he was forgetting…wasn’t there.
“Alright Trax, you won the pot, and the whore for the night,” Boss said, “Make sure you treat him the way he deserves to be treated, right?”
“Heh, Boss, you don’t have to worry about that, trust me.”
Trax–that name should mean something to him, it did mean something, but as soon as he summoned the memory, whatever it might have been, it disappeared into the ether. No–he did know Trax though, and when the meaty hand reached under the table, grabbed his arm, and hauled him out, nearly dislocating his shoulder in the process, he found himself suspended in the air by the massive cyborg himself.
Trax had always been a fan of the chop shops around here–no one knew how much metal he had, but it was substantial, enough that he probably should have registered himself as a AI risk, but Trax wasn’t one for rules. He grinned at Perrion, his titanium teeth glinting in the barlight. “I love a good piece of meat to fuck up on occasion.”
“Just make sure it can work tomorrow,” Boss said.
“Fine, fine,” Trax said, and dragged Perrion out of the bar and to his apartment nearby, where he proceeded to ravage his holes with collection of metal cocks, none of them shorter than a foot in length. He seemed…especially rough tonight, and was taking great pleasure in listening to Perrion scream with each new cock he used on him. The night lasted an impossibly long time, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Trax’s stamina, as a cyborg, was substantial. Eventually, he did pass out into a black nothing with a hint of static.
Trax kicked out the program, exhilarated. This was working better than he’d ever imagined, but it was time for a rest. Still, he loaded up the next simulation he wanted to run on Perrion, so it would be ready tomorrow, when he woke up. After all, he’d done a good number on Perrion’s mind, but maybe it was time to adjust some of his habits.
What sort of lifestyle does Trax want to cultivate in Perrion?
- Train him to be a shameless, exhibitionist pervert.
- Make him an empty headed muscle brute.
- Make him a drug addicted junkie pig.
Bracken's Corner 