Sarah was yanked over Stephen’s knees by her wrist. She instinctively threw her hands in front of her to protect her face. Her torso landed on his lap. The wind was briefly knocked out of her. She felt him pull up her pleated tartan miniskirt, then pull her panties down to her knees. She could feel a cold breeze on her bare butt. She was in the perfect position to be endlessly disciplined over the knee.

She heard herself beg, “sir, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

In reply, she felt his thick paddle impact hard on her ass. She nearly saw stars from the pain.

She heard herself beg, “I’ll be good, sir! I’ll be a good girl! I’ll be obedient and submissive and respectful! I will! I will!”

Stephen replied, “Oh, you will be. I’ll ensure your ass knows you must obey the man in authority over you.”

He began repeatedly walloping her ass. Sarah grabbed the chair legs. Her ass was on fire from the harsh paddling he was giving her.

She could feel her breasts partly emerge from her crop top. She was over his knees, so some of her breasts were spilling out of her minimum-coverage bra and the scooped neckline of her crop top. Her crop top had also crept up, revealing her breasts from beneath. The blistering pain from her unprotected ass made her exposure a secondary consideration.

Sarah felt a deep need to be a good girl. She felt she needed to always be obedient, submissive, and respectful to him. This need was a powerful urge.

She did her best to resist this urge. It was getting harder to resist this urge every time it repeated. She knew she’d soon be sucking his cock. After that, she’d get fucked hard by him, first in her cunt and then in her ass. She’d be repeatedly hearing herself telling him that she would be a good girl.

Her mind drifted to how she’d gotten here. It had started about a month ago.

Sarah wore a nondescript T-shirt, jeans, and dark sunglasses. She wanted to ensure no one she knew would easily recognize her as she made her way from her home to the office of Stephen Kyrarkho. She couldn’t hide her 5’5” height, her large breasts, or her fit curvy body. She saw no point in hiding her long blonde hair or her lightly-tanned unblemished skin. If today went as expected, she would soon be known everywhere. She didn’t like that idea at all, but her alternatives were even worse.

Sarah hadn’t meant to get so steeply into debt. College debts, housing costs, and some lavish purchases had helped her down that path. It was her gambling debts that had done her in. She had deferred paying the piper many times. She had often exploited her hot body to get some man to quietly pony up some cash or delay some payment deadline. Each of these exchanges had been a betrayal of her long-held feminist beliefs, but she felt that a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. These efforts had temporarily helped her at various times, but they had also allowed her debt problem to fester. A “few double or nothings” on “sure bets” had metamorphized her debt problem into something impossible to handle.

Her current lenders were of a nastier variety. If they didn’t start getting their payments, they would impose certain… alternatives on her. They would, of course, be happy to exploit her body’s sexual charms in lieu of payment. She was certain she would not enjoy that process. She would have no say in who she pleasured. She also expected that, once she was fully in their clutches, she would never be able to escape.

She could never earn enough to make those payments in a “normal” way. She also didn’t want to be trapped for the rest of her life in a brothel doing tricks, in her every waking hour, for nameless clients. Especially the brothel owned by her lenders. There, she would undergo severe corporal punishment every time her clients claimed she hadn’t adequately pleasured them. She’d also heard that the brothel’s policy was that no sex act was too depraved or dangerous, some were simply more expensive.

There was an even worse alternative. If she tried doing anything that her lenders didn’t appreciate, like calling the police, she knew that they would make a horrific example of her. Her lenders had assured her that “snitches get ditches.” If she started down that path, she was certain they would make her yearn for death long before it was finally granted to her. She would be repeatedly raped and brutally tortured for far too long before her life would be taken from her.

This morning’s meeting with Stephen Kyrarkho was her desperate alternative. She didn’t want to be trapped for life as a 24-hour brutalized whore. She also didn’t want to be repeatedly raped, extensively tortured, and finally murdered. Stephen’s alternative would pay her well and end her problems. It wasn’t an alternative she would have considered a few years ago, but she’d decided to accept his job offer.

She was about to become a porn star. More specifically, she had accepted Stephen’s offer to become a porn star for a brand new brain-scanning medium. She would be the first actress to do so.

Sarah hadn’t planned to become a porn star. She did have the smoking hot body for it. She had an hourglass fit figure and a perfect face. She turned heads when she dressed casually. She could cause car accidents when she wore slinky outfits. She’d also been an amateur actress in school. An acquaintance had connected her with Stephen. He needed a gorgeous actress willing to do almost anything, and she needed a pile of money.

She’d done everything he’d required of her this morning in preparation. She’d carefully shaved herself smooth everywhere below her neck. She’d even skipped breakfast and given herself an enema.

She entered his office building. Stephen Kyrarkho greeted her. He was a muscular man, 6’ tall, and in his mid thirties. He was dressed in a white collar shirt and slacks. She was glad he was good-looking. She knew it was shallow, but his good looks made it much easier for her to agree to star in his porn. He was the company founder and owner, as well the porno’s producer and co-star. Porn was also a change from his usual work. For years he’d been the head brain researcher in his lab. He was a man who’d made multiple key breakthroughs in brain technology. His company was built on his breakthroughs. Given his height and muscular build, he looked exactly nothing like the stereotype of a lab rat.

In their last meeting, she’d jokingly challenged Stephen on his “credentials” to be the male lead in a porno. With her consent, he’d pulled down his pants, pulled down his underwear, and revealed his tool to her in all its glory. She had to admit that he was hung like a horse. His cock’s length and girth were the largest she’d ever seen, and she’d seen many.

All she’d been able to do, at that moment of revelation, was stammer that he was eminently qualified. Later, she’d thought of cleverer things to say, but at the time, her brain had short-circuited when she saw his extraordinary level of giftedness. She was glad she’d completely conquered her gag reflex. Even so, she knew oral sex with him would be a challenge for any woman.

Stephan was brilliant, driven, good-looking, in excellent shape, and was physically endowed at porn star levels. His confidence was appealing. He was mature, communicated well, and had real emotional intelligence. All he lacked, to make him the perfect man in the eyes of most women, was wealth. He was working on that. He had been born to poverty. He had earned all he had through his mind, his determination, and his grit. He’d poured his life savings, patents, and trade secrets into this company that he’d founded. He believed this porno would generate extraordinary profits, and as a result, he would become a rich man.

In a different circumstance, Sarah would have found Stephen quite attractive. His good looks did attract her interest. Stephen was impressive in many other ways, too. On the other hand, he was temporarily her employer. She had a personal rule about never having a sexual relationship with her boss. Yes, he would be fucking her in the porno, but it wouldn’t be a relationship. She kept telling herself that there was a difference. He was, instead, essentially paying to fuck her. That was awkwardly close to making her a whore, a fact she preferred to not dwell on. She also had many deep objections about the screenplay he was requiring her to perform. She wasn’t sure she could respect a man who not only approved of such a screenplay, but demanded it. She couldn’t deny she had some sexual interest in Stephen, but she self-suppressed those feelings.

Stephen said, “Please take a seat in this meeting room. It’s all ready for your review. Take your time.”

Sarah sat down at the meeting room’s table. The contract was there for her to review. She carefully reviewed it, comparing it with her own copy, to ensure no terms had changed. Most important was the substantial amount of money they’d agreed to pay her. She’d receive half of it today. She’d receive the other half after she viewed one of the resulting recordings being made today, whichever one she chose. The screenplay was also attached. The screenplay was the same material she’d memorized.

She went back and reviewed the amount of money again. She counted her lucky stars. She felt this recording was a spectacularly lucky break for her after so many bad breaks.

Stephen had wanted to make a porno with his new technology. He had managed to secure some wealthy private investors to fund it well. Yet he had a serious problem. Anyone could properly perceive the brain playbacks. The problem was recording. His new technology was so finicky that only a tiny percentage of people could have their brains properly recorded. The combination of “compatible with the tech, good-looking, and willing to star in a porno” produced a surprisingly short list. The technology worked on him because, during his early research, he’d often been his own test subject. Many porn actresses were willing, but all those tested so far were incompatible with the tech. Sarah was compatible, good-looking, and most importantly willing to star in a porno. Her amateur acting experience made her even more compelling. She’d been able to negotiate a huge payout for herself. He’d get his porno. She’d get the money she needed. This arrangement was a win-win for everyone.

The contract required her to assert she was over 18. She was 25, so there was no problem there. She was on the pill, eliminating that concern. All actors had shared proof with each other that they had no STDs and that they were all of sound mind. Various waivers attempted to cover all possible contingencies. She’d reviewed all of this before. Everything was in order. She signed it all.

Stephen smiled. “Have you memorized your part? Are you ready to perform it?”

“Yes, and yes.”

The sketch Sarah was agreeing to perform was beyond misogynistic. The premise was that Stephen was a cult leader, while she was a misbehaving cult member. She would be spanked bare and hard over the knee, required to suck his cock, and fucked from behind first vaginally and then anally. Throughout this ordeal she would be required to repeatedly agree to be obedient, submissive, and respectful, in short, to be a “good girl.” She would be required to repeatedly agree that he had the right to demand this. After this ordeal she would be allowed to dress and return to her starting position. He would tell her she would be given to another man and that she would need to be a good girl for him. She would protest. As punishment she would again be spanked bare and hard over the knee. She would finally agree. Cult leader Stephan would demand that she kneel. She would be blindfolded and told that when the blindfold came off, she would see the man she would always belong to. She’d be told this would be the man she would obey, submit to, and respect forever. When Stephen removed the blindfold, she would see a stranger. Stephen would remind her to be a good girl forever for him. She would agree and promise to be a good girl to him. The stranger would command her to suck his dick. She would suck his dick until he came, then thank him for becoming her master.

It was a brutal scene. She’d been promised that as long as she did an honest best effort, there would be only one take with no interruptions. Their funding limited their ability to do retakes.

Sarah thought the plot, such as it was, was absurd. There was no serious effort to explain why her character would be so obedient. Stephen had told her that they’d had test readings of the plot and run the numbers. He’d assured her that this story would sell well. He’d also pointed out that audience acceptance was his problem, not hers.

It was his tech, his company, and he was paying her with money that others had invested specifically in him. He was even willing to pay her an astounding amount of money. In exchange, he got to decide on all aspects of the performance. She’d had no say in the screenplay’s contents. Her task was to perform it exactly as written. If she failed to do her best to perform it, exactly as written, she’d put her payday in jeopardy. She knew he would eventually find another actress if he kept searching. Her options, on the other hand, were far worse. Once Stephen had agreed to pay Sarah a massive amount, she’d done her best to keep her stupid trap shut about her opinions of the screenplay.

Stephen said, “Excellent. Let’s go to the studio, get ready, and start recording.”

Stephen led Sarah to another room with two reclining chairs. They both resembled barber’s chairs. As Stephen and Sarah sat on the chairs, technicians began swarming around both actors. The technicians repeatedly glued tiny black dots to their heads, focusing on their upper skulls and foreheads. Each dot was attached on the skin, requiring the technicians to constantly move hair around. Soon Stephen and Sarah were covered with so many dots that they both appeared to have a strange skin condition.

As the technicians continued to apply the dots, Stephen explained the process. He said, “the real brain sensors are microscopic. The dots surround them and simplify the attachment process. Soon the dots will become transparent. You won’t see the dots in the recording. The glue and sensors will wash off over the next few days.”

Sarah replied, “they’re adding a lot of dots.”

Stephen replied, “of course. We’re recording brain activity for later playback. We need many sensors to achieve high-quality playback.”

“This isn’t my area of expertise, but I thought neurons were too small and low-powered for surface sensors to collect that kind of detail.”

“Yes, that’s always been the problem. We use a large number of sensors to help address that. Our sensors are more sensitive than almost anyone else’s. Our real breakthroughs lie in combining deep mathematical analysis, cutting-edge AI, and clever tricks to ingest mountains of data and ‘fill in the gaps’ to produce what the brain perceived. Viewers of the resulting brain-movies will feel like they’re directly participating in what was recorded. They’ll see it through their eyes and ears. They’ll literally perceive their every sense from the recording. We even record proprioception and touch, so viewers will feel how their body is positioned in space and they’ll feel the environment around them.”

“Your lab is the one that developed this advanced brain analysis technology. I have to ask, why did you decide to go into porn?”

“The internet meme ‘Rule 34’ says that ‘if something exists, there’s porn of it.’ There’s a technologist’s version of rule 34 that you might not have heard. It says, ‘if a technology exists, there’s a way to use it for porn.’ We know someone will use this technology for porn. It’s inevitable! We decided we’d do it ourselves so that we can reap the rewards ourselves and live in luxury. Why let someone else earn the financial rewards for our work? We could do something boring, but the process is expensive, and boring recordings would get boring payouts.”

“So… porn?”

“Yes. Porn. Porn is what’s in demand. Our brain-movies will be the most popular entertainment option on the planet. We’ll charge a fortune for them, and reap a fortune in return. That’s why we can afford to pay you so much. It was hard to find a compatible woman, and you’re perfect for the role. You’ll be part of something revolutionary. The world will be transformed when these are released.”

“You insisted that we use our real names in the performance. Why?”

“There will be no point in hiding our names. The release of these brain-movies will be the most discussed event on the planet. Current brain-movie playbacks are fuzzy, hard to perceive, and jerky. They only last for seconds, too. Ours are perfectly realistic and can be much longer. Our brain-movies will be a defining moment in technology and in media. No matter what we did, our names would be quickly revealed. We may as well not bother hiding our names. Our names will be legendary.”

“I understand why your role will be a popular recording. I can’t imagine my role being a popular choice to experience.”

“You’d be surprised. Many enjoy being a dom. Many others enjoy being a sub. Statistically, men are more likely to be doms and women are more likely to be subs. Most of society doesn’t seriously complain when men publicly admit they enjoy being dominant during sex. Society often shames people who publicly admit that they enjoy being submissive. As a result, there are a lot more subs than you might expect. Also, if I’m going to act as a dom, I need a sub anyway. By recording your brain we get both sides of the story. The result will be a spectacular pair of brain-movies. Our market will be much larger because we’ll cover both the dom and the sub audience. People who are switches will be thrilled. Besides, having a pair of brain-movies from the same event will make them more interesting.”

“I guess.”

“We’re done getting dots on our heads. Go change into your costume and get your makeup done. When you’re ready, meet me in the recording studio. The sensors will be ready to use in about an hour. We need to be ready when the sensors are ready.”

Sarah went to the adjoining changing room and discovered her outfit. Her underwear was a red bra and panty set, each lacy and designed to cover little. At no place was her bra fully opaque, so her nipples would be clearly visible through its fabric. The panties’ back was lacy and only attempted to cover the upper half of her ass cheeks. The panties emphasized, instead of hiding, the lower half of her exposed ass cheeks. The panties’ front was only a string and fully revealed her vulva. They were panties only in a technical sense. A thong would have covered more of her vulva. Her top was a white sleeveless crop top with a wide deeply scooped neckline and a legion of peepholes throughout its material. Her red bra, and her mostly-exposed breasts, would peek through all over the crop top. The crop top stopped barely below her bra. Her pleated tartan miniskirt was too short to be permitted in public. It was more like a belt than a skirt. Her scandalous clothes left no doubt that she was an actress in a porno. She knew she wouldn’t be wearing the clothing for long anyway. There were no shoes, as she would be barefoot.

She sighed. She changed.

She examined the result in the changing room’s full-length mirrors. She noticed that the dots on her head were no longer visible. Almost all of her skin was visible.

She knew only a slut or a whore would wear this outfit. At least the clothes had been expertly tailored to fit her exactly. They were tailored to exhibit her, though, not to provide her with modesty. Even when she stood straight and pulled her tiny miniskirt down, the bottom of her ass cheeks peeked out under the miniskirt.

When she indicated she was done changing, a man entered to apply her makeup. She usually applied her makeup herself. Allowing a makeup artist to perform this task was required by her contract. She was soon surrounded by more mirrors.

Once he started, she could tell the makeup man clearly knew what he was doing. The man was a skilled and thorough artist. She watched him work with awe. She decided she’d try to steal some of his techniques later. She always looked good, but when he was done, she realized her face had never looked so good. Stephen had taken care to choose an expert in his craft. Stephen was clearly sparing no expense to produce a high-quality product. When the makeup process was done, she headed to the recording studio.

The inside of the recording studio looked like a regular room in a home. The walls had bookcases, some art, and other doors leading off. A window let in light, but its shades ensured no one could see in or out. The room was well-lit to ensure that the recording’s visuals would be excellent. In the center of the room was a hard-backed chair. Next to the chair was a large wicked-looking heavy paddle with a few small holes. Sarah was glad that the floor was carpeted. The carpet would at least cushion her during the times she would be on her knees.

Stephen was seated in the chair. He was wearing a dark suit, a white collar shirt, and a red tie. The contrast between the implied authority of his outfit, and the sluttiness of hers, was crystal clear. As expected, he also no longer had any visible dots on his head.

Stephen explained, “the brain sensors will record whatever we see and hear. So we must ensure we can’t see or hear anything that wouldn’t make sense in our scenario. We want to show off our technology. We want this to look good. Remember, the safe word is ‘Rumpelstiltskin.’ I hope you won’t say it.”

“I know. I won’t say it unless I have to.”

Both of them knew that if she said the safe word, she would not be paid, and that she would also need to pay a steep financial penalty. She had to admit that Stephen’s justification for the penalty had made sense. Saying the safe word would ruin the recording, leading to a huge cost to him. The brain sensor dots were single-use, they only worked for at most an hour after their one-hour initialization time, it took time for experienced personnel to apply them, and it cost a fortune to make a set of sensors. The penalty meant that Sarah was strongly incentivized to never say the safe word.

Stephen sat in the chair. He indicated to Sarah that she was to take her place. Sarah hesitated. If she proceeded, there would be no turning back. After a moment, she sighed and took her place to his right. She ensured she was precisely on the mark required to begin.

She heard a voice behind a bookcase say, “Wait a moment, we’re double-checking the brain recording technology. Testing 1 2 3, testing 1 2 3. Are we go? … Yes, I heard you, but I want to make sure. Are you receiving all their signals? … Glad to hear it. Is the signal quality high? … Are all the time synchronizers synchronized? … Is recording enabled? … You sure? Is everyone certain about everything? … Is everyone on the tech side ready? … Okay, great! Actors, are you ready?”

Both Stephen and Sarah nodded to confirm.

“Great!,” said the voice behind the bookcase, “then… action!”