Human Android Ch. 09

Rebecca was worried about her mother. It wasn't so much that she was dressing so differently, it was the way she behaved. She put it down to her father's disappearance, leaving them both so unexpectedly for another woman. It seemed her mother had become a recluse, not leaving the house at all, since returning from Uncle John's house.

Anne had been so jumpy after arriving home she cleaned the whole house, from top to bottom. It did no good though, for she needed something, yet not daring to think what it was. There was a hole in her life since her husband had left. More considerable was the influence of the mind implant. She had become so used to uninhibited sex, she was suffering withdrawal symptoms.

Although the implant was switched off, it was annoying knowing the implant was still influencing her behavior. After having it switched on for too long, the damn thing had left its mark in her mind. There was a slight chance someone might say a trigger word and accidently force her into a naughty role play. It was worrying, knowing the game rules were there, waiting to be called up by someone.

She avoided Larry, a young student who knew all about the problem, just in case he invoked a sexy role for her to play.

The chance of having the implant activated was remote yet it was so frightening to contemplate, she hadn't left the house. It had been activated by accidently pressing the back of her head, and that led to a calamitous situation. Soon the surgeon would be back on campus and the damn implant could be removed. Only then could she begin to regain her life, without the danger of being under its control.

As an important faculty member and professor of business studies, it was unlikely someone would call her a slut or a maid. There were other game rules that had been laid down in her mind, but it was unlikely they would be triggered. If someone told her she was their maid that game would be triggered, forcing her to abide by its rules. They were that imbedded in her mind, she would have little choice, and have to act out the role.

Perhaps if she was able to assuage the damn urges, she might be able to relax and get through this difficult time. With this idea nagging at her, knowing she would have to be careful, she gathered up enough courage to leave the house.

Anne strode out wearing a skirt cut just above the knee, with a nice white blouse and a pair of sensible, comfortable panties. She had been forced to wear such slutty clothes recently the outfit seemed conservative. She had tried to wear something more appropriate for a responsible professor, yet failed to find comfort in the usual dowdy outfits.

The influence of the implant, over the past couple of weeks, had left its mark more than she realized. It was a need for sexual satisfaction was this that was driving her out of the house. At least she hadn't dressed in a particularly provocative role playing outfit. It could have been worse. She could have been on campus wearing a saucy French maid outfit, or going out looking like a complete slut.

Hoping off the campus free bus, she jumped on a city transport bus. With the students, and most of the faculty away, it was easy to get a seat. Anne wanted to visit a mall some miles distant, away from prying eyes. There was always a busybody ready to catch a person out, and turn it into horrid gossip.

Anne hoped off the bus and walked into an auto-cafe for a coffee. There was no one there, which suited her fine. Crossing and uncrossing her legs, with nervous energy, she decided the coast was clear.

A short walk brought her to a run down store, looking a little seedy, suiting her purpose perfectly. The store was easy to find, as most of the stores were boarded up. Even this one looked closed, because there was no display in the window; only to be expected under the circumstances.

Entering a sex shop a couple of weeks ago would have been embarrassing. A professor, and important faculty member, just doesn't do that sort of thing. Seeing the garishly displayed outfits and toys, arrayed around the walls and in display cabinets, gave her a thrill. This is what she had come for. She needed something to satisfy the growing, demanding urge. She needed a vibrator.

"Hi, how can I help you today?" the assistant asked. She had a big artificial smile on her face. Obviously put on for customers.

"I'm looking for a vibrator," Anne said. The hesitation in her voice was uncharacteristic, for she had always been so sure of herself. Here, in this unfamiliar place, she needed help; not knowing what to ask for and from feeling uncomfortable.

"Anal or vagina?" the young woman asked. It wasn't a sneering tone of voice rather, the enquiry was professional.

Anne felt somewhat reassured. "Perhaps, both?" she replied.

"I'm July. I can show you lots of great products. Do you have a preference, anything in mind?" July asked. "No. Well that's OK. I can help you, we're quiet at the moment," she smiled.

Anne was in a daze from the choices of sizes, shapes and colors. There were manually operated and battery operated, for inside stimulation, or clit stimulation. Then there were the substances, such as hard plastic, rubber, gel filled, and so many more.

"This is my favorite, do you want to try it? You'll have to pay for it though," July encouraged. "Go on, don't be shy," she giggled.

"No! I couldn't, I mean, here?" Anne gawked at her, looking around, not knowing what to say. Her pussy was tingling with anticipation, yet how could she do it in this place? She wanted to rush home to run a bath, and play with herself! She had done a lot of that over the past few days.

July took a hold of her elbow, guiding her to a cubicle at the back of the store. "It's not very comfortable. Just close your eyes and imagine a favorite fantasy," the girl smiled, with a knowing look.

It would at least calm her enough to return home. At the moment she felt so hot it was difficult to control the building urge. Anne pulled her panties off and lifted the skirt. She bent over a chair and lifted one leg. The vibrations over her clit were wonderful.

The device could be inserted and strapped on, though she dare not go that far. She ran it over her wet pussy feeling the inner lips opening up in response. It wasn't a large one so she managed to take it in. After awhile she thrust it in, back and forth making sure she rubbed her clit with every deep, inward thrust.

She remembered every one of those men that had taken her over the last two weeks. She moaned fretfully on remembering all the bad things she had done with them. Her breathing became ragged on coming so close to an orgasm. Deep breaths, then little whimpers followed.

A small desultory orgasm wobbled her legs. She nearly fell over the chair. She hung onto it listening to her breathing slow down, trying to regain some composure. The orgasm wasn't much but it helped.

"I'll take it and the other one you suggested," Anne told the assistant.

"You might want to buy a skirt too," July advised her.

Anne realized she had hurried from the cubicle without her panties. The front of the skirt was wet!

"We have plenty of clothes, though nothing of quality like yours," July remarked.

"Anything will do, just to get me home. I need panties too," she added. Anne couldn't bear to go back for the dirty panties she had trodden into that filthy carpet. By the look of the stains and stickiness, she hadn't been the only one to drip onto the cubicle carpet.

"This looks you're size. Do you want to try it on?" July asked.

Of course she was going to try it on, she needed to wear the damn thing.

"It has a certain look, rather different to your designer label clothes," the girl said, with an offish sniff. "You are a perfect slut," she added.

"What?" Anne reacted in fear.

"It says so on the packaging. It's from our party range. You are a perfect slut," the girl repeated.

Anne looked at the packaging to read the label. It said, 'the party slut range - you are a perfect slut'.

The girl had repeated the phrase, emphasizing it! Anne felt giddy. She hadn't just been called a slut, she had been told SHE WAS A PERFECT SLUT! Anne felt the programming seeping into her mind ready to affect her behavior. She was becoming a slut! The rules of the game would have her acting like a common slut so she had to get away fast.

Almost running up the aisle, between strange clothing and equipment, she dived into the cubicle to change. Her panties were still there squashed in a soiled mess where she had trodden on them.

She quickly pulled off her clothes and un-wrapped the new ones. Anne pulled on the little skirt and halter top, not caring what she looked like. She just needed to get out of the store. If she had stopped to think it through, she would have realized it was the slut behavior program that had her changing into the dreadful clothes.

The slut program had been called into being but the girl hadn't given her instructions, so there was no game to be played out. If she was instructed to do anything then the program would wind down, leaving her normal, or at least as normal as possible.

There had been no one around on her trip here, so, with a bit of luck she could get home safely. Besides, it was unlikely anyone would order her to do anything outrageous, if anything at all. A nod of greeting might be all that was met with. Anyway, without an instruction, the slut program would end of its own accord by the time she reached home.

Except for her flat shoes, she looked like a perfect party slut. Not that she dare look in a mirror. Anne marched out of the store, abandoning her clothes, in too much of a hurry to ask for a bag. The girl had already taken her credit number, so there was no need to stop and pay. It was important to avoid contact with anyone.

With head down, so as not to be noticed, she bumped into someone.

"Where're you hurrying to, sweet thing?" a young guy asked.

Anne had bumped into a group of bored youths, hanging around, looking for something to do.

"She came out of that store," one of them pointed out.

"What do you need in a store like that?" Benedict asked, with a knowing grin.

He was cheeky and looked so sure of him-self, she wanted to just turn away and scurry back to the store.

He took a hold of her arm. "Hey! You mumped into me, don't you have manners?" Benedict asked.

"I'm sorry, sir," Anne stammered.

"So tell us what you've bought in there," he teased. They knew the store she had been in and exactly what kind of merchandise it sold.

"I've bought a couple of vibrator's and these clothes," she said. She cursed the damn program, for it forced her to tell them. The five young men laughed at her.

"You don't need a vibrator girl," Benedict told her. They had been wary of her at first, as she was older than their eighteen years, but this crude revelation confirmed her as a slut. The young guy made suggestive movements with his hips close in front of her.

"Forget the vibrator, we can look after your needs, girl," he laughed, with his friends following along.

With a complete loss of their respect, if she had any to start with, she was being called a girl, and the others were talking between themselves, calling her a slut. She heard the words with a dire dread overtaking her thoughts.

She wanted to tell them she was a respectable woman and to leave her alone. The words just wouldn't come. She clamped her lips together on realizing she was going to agree with them, that she was a slut. The silence didn't dent their boldness rather it encouraged them to take advantage.

The leader of their little gang, Benedict or Ben, pushed his hips against her. She could feel his cock through his jeans, big and hard, against her bare midriff. The skirt was low slung, under her belly, and short around her thighs, leaving only the tiny thong as protection.

Pulling back away from the ruffian, she felt another hard thing, against her bottom. She had inadvertently pushed herself against him, though, as a slut, she didn't pull away from the contact. The slut behavior took over and she pushed her cheeks against his jeans, to feel his hard cock.

"Look at the way she pushed herself on my cock, guys. She likes it up the ass, don't you slut," the young hoodlum, loudly declared in her ear.

He licked her neck and she shivered, instead of shouting at him to leave her alone, she whimpered. "I'm a slut," she whispered, in a weak little voice. "I like it up my ass," she added. If the implant had been active she would have responded with more enthusiasm. With the game playing in her subconscious she had a little control left.

The group laughed at her. "You dress like a slut!" Ben told her. He lifted the little skirt up, revealing the red thong. The guy behind her wrapped his hands around her breasts, and pulled her sharply against his stiff pole.

Anne felt it through his jeans. The bulge fit between her cheeks! Not knowing if she reacted from the programs influence, or from fear, she clenched her cheeks tight upon it. She looked down to see a pair of hands pulling the blouse off her shoulders. He pulled the blouse down further, pinning her arms behind her back.

She was breathing heavily, not from exertion, but from arousal. She had been repeatedly told she was a slut and that is what she was. Under the rules of the game she was easily aroused and had to respond.

Now this young stranger was grasping her breasts and squeezing them tight. The half cup bra hadn't protected them at all.

"You're a hot slut! How come you're so sexed up?" Phil asked, loudly in her ear. He was rubbing the bulge in his trousers between her cheeks and massaging her breasts.

"I'm just a pathetic slut and you're heating me up," she whimpered.

Anne tried to protest, only to let loose a deep groan instead. He pinched her nipples, twisting them painfully. It was true she was sexed up, like a filthy little slut. These young ruffians had named her correctly. She was a responsible professor at the university, but the way she was behaving, and the way she was dressed, it was all so dreadfully true.

She was a slut on heat and out of control!

"I'm just a filthy little slut," she agreed. The mocking voice in her ear was instructing her, pushing her further into the damn slut game.

"Let's take the slut to the car-lot and find a truck," Ben suggested. It looked as though he had lost the leadership of his little gang and didn't like it. He needed to take back control from Phil. "We can all take her there, in the back of a truck," he added.

"No! Let's take her back to our place. We can keep her as a gang slut. Maybe make some money, when we get tired of banging the slut. Sell her on to my uncle, to work his side of town," Phil said, while grinding against her ass and massaging her breasts.

"I guess we could make a lot more money, whoring out the slut," Phil added.

Anne's legs collapsed under her. She was only being held up by his grip on her tits. She was a decent woman, a wealthy woman, not these young bastards whore. From a confusion of ideas spinning through her head, she tightly closed her eyes.

It was true that she was a slut, for they had proved that. She knew there was no way of getting away from them while the damn game was active, and so hoped for rescue. She also knew that from being a wanton, sexed up slut, they just needed to give the command and she would become their whore.

A hand went between her legs, leaving a breast alone, leaving it aching from sudden neglect. The panties were pushed aside and a bunch of rough fingers found her sex, wet and available.

"Smell this, whore," Phil said, wiping his fingers under her nose. "You're a sexed up whore. What are you?" he asked.

"I'm a sexed up whore, sir" Anne said, with a tremulous voice. She felt his cock, through his jeans, grinding away at her ass. She didn't want to, but couldn't help needing it. She wanted to feel this strangers cock inside her, and felt shocked and humiliated from the powerful need of it.

"Who do you belong to whore?" Phil asked, breathing the words into her ear.

"I'm your whore, sir, thank you sir, for letting me be your whore," she replied. Anne cried inside, knowing the game play was so strong she wouldn't be able to refuse their demands. The young ruffians were turning her into a nasty little whore, ready for cock, anyone's cock!

"That's enough, Phil," Ben demanded, and pulled the slut away from him. "You always go too far. You'll get us arrested," he said. The others nodded as Ben asserted his authority over his gang. Ben knew Phil was all talk, but baring her breasts was dangerous, even in this run down mall. There wasn't much security here, though there was little sense in taking chances.

They obviously liked the idea of having an eager slut to fuck, so he had to go along with that at least. Ben held onto her arm, guiding her toward one of the exits to the car park.

Anne inwardly cursed these young callous youths. They were only just eighteen, yet they had taken complete charge of her. They were taking her off someplace, to fuck! She was now completely captivated by the game, making her play out the role of a whore. Being a slut was bad enough, but this was a dangerous situation and a deep humiliation.

They found a delivery van and climbed in. "Take us to lot fourteen," Ben said, giving an instruction for their destination. The automatic driver took control and moved off smoothly, with a whine of electric motors.

"It'll be more comfortable at our hideaway," Ben told his friends.

Not far away the vehicle pulled up outside an old run-down warehouse. Ben shoved at a door, which gave way, with a shriek of metal on metal. They automatically turned their heads, scanning the street, not spotting anyone as usual. Their boots clanged up a metal staircase leading to a large loft-room.

Old rescued pieces of furniture were arrayed around a large, new piece of carpet, laid in the centre of the room.

Anne dare not say anything, in case she betrayed herself. She hoped they were too young to take advantage, despite their lustful looks. She stood in the middle of the carpet feeling self-conscious.

"So what do you do?" Ben asked.

Anne cringed with fear. She would have to answer the question which would betray her identity. She was a university professor, that's what she did, it was her life. Dressed like a whore, ready to please them, it would be so humiliating to reveal this truth.

"I'm a whore, sir. How may I please you?" she asked. A sigh of relief quietly passed her lips. The shocking words should have disgusted her, yet the whore game had saved her dignity. That she was pleased to utter such a damning statement meant the game had now taken over. She was now committed to playing the disgusting role, until they decided otherwise.

She had played this game with her husband a few times, only with him there had been agreed rules, to guide him and protect her. Anne prayed they had little imagination, and would soon become bored with her. Once sent on her way, the program would soon end, leaving her free.

She just had to get through this terrible situation and quickly get home. Until she was properly recovered, Anne wouldn't dare leave the house again.

"So tell us how you'll please us. What tricks do you do?" Phil piped up.

The cheeky, leering face was annoying. Nevertheless, Anne had to smile at him. She stood on the carpet surrounded by the guys, who were sprawled over the padded easy chairs. The game had completely taken control of her behavior, leaving a winsome smile on her face. She really was ready to please them.

"Anything you want. My body is available to be used, however you want it. I'm good at sucking cock," she enthused, and formed her lips into a seductive pout. She pushed a finger between her delicious plump lips, wetting it and licking it. Despite not wanting to, she was enjoying teasing him.