Unruly Women Reform Academy

by barbararwetzel

Tags: #cw:noncon #D/s #dom:male #f/f #f/m #humiliation #sub:female #bondage #clothing #drones #growth #robots #scifi

A technologist, fed up with his defiant girlfriend, sets out to correct attitudes of not only her, but other unruly women at the new and very modern reform academy he founded in their city. While the technology may be modern, the gender roles learned will be very old fashioned.

Unruly Women Reform Academy

DISCLAIMER: This book is fiction. Every name, place, character, and event are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is pure coincidence. All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older.

* * *

Kimberly Adams rode on the flying taxi car in the silent space. Cars had been banned from the city about five years before and she barely missed them at this point. The 25 year old had only been driving for a year before that, and barely did at the city campus, so nothing about the taxi, driven by a programmed algorithm, bothered her in the way the detractors of the current mayor, a former technology venture capitalist, did. Cars were now only reserved for the lower classes in town outside of the big city, which grew larger and larger as the firm tentacles of modern technology assimilated them. Within a few years, their entire state would be aligned with the city. It was only a matter of time.

She had survived a grueling day at work and was not in the mood for Marcus’ shit, but her boyfriend served a few purposes. First, he had come into a lot of money when his father died. Daddy Dearest had run some kind of technology firm and he was employed, but normally tasked with some kind of secretive project involving microchips being used to aide people with mental and psychical struggles to recover from them. There were tons of NDAs, but her boyfriend could confirm his work was going to be worth billions. The work was, according to him, very promising so far. His details were always sparse, but, again, there were a lot of NDAs. So he said.

That was certainly one reason to stick around. He had promised her a new job with the company now that it was in his name, which suited the press officer. Her current job was a total shit show. Her boss was one of those workaholic feminists who needed to do twice as much as men do to feel adequate. Kimberly certainly supported liberal politics, but she wanted to go home at the end of the work day. Working with Marcus as a press officer would certainly be suitable until they were married and she would then stick around long enough to get a great payment in a divorce settlement to set her up for life.

She had been just out of college when Marcus came into her life. The beautiful Korean woman realized he was her path to success and they began dating soon after. Kimberly had certainly not wanted to whore herself out in that way, but after seeing classmates do it with significant success her moral opposition quickly melted away. It was a tough job market for being who wanted more than the universal allotted basic income the government had given to citizens for years and she had an increasingly old fashioned desire for glamour and riches.

As she stepped off of the taxi after swiping her payment card, her black pumps echoed off the hard concrete. Kimberly was busty, dark haired, pale, and deeply feminine. Her knee length skirt and blouse showed off an athletic body kept up with daily morning trips to the gym before work. She looked impeccable, and fuckable, while entering the elevator that led up to her boyfriend’s bachelor pad on the top floor of the building.

In the elevator Kimberly collected her thoughts. Marcus had called and requested her to show up tonight. He said that there was a job offer for her that had been approved by his board, who really ran the company as they had when his father was owner, and the details would be discussed during their dinner. She looked forward to quitting her current job. Her boss was so uptight and bitchy. Doing press work for Marcus would be pretty easy and eventually she could divorce him. An alternative could be to settle into the life of a glamorous housewife. A lot gave up lucrative careers to start a family or be at their husband’s side for events. She smiled to herself upon exiting the elevator as ideas for some kind of bullshit charity foundation circled around in her mind. Sick kids. Everybody wanted to help sick kids.

Kimberly ended up at Marcus’ door. The security scanner checked her right eye and then the door to his immense apartment opened up for her. She walked inside, pumps thumping on the carpeted foyer and smiled at Marcus when she was him coming across the room towards her. She really wanted to keep things about business tonight. A quick blowjob later on and then back to her apartment to get a good night of sleep before another set of meetings in the morning.

“Hey, I am really glad you could make it,” Marcus whispered as he hugged his girlfriend. “We have a lot to discuss in regards to your new position.” She did not notice how he selectively did not mention whether it was with his company or not.

He went over to the bar and poured them drinks. Kimberly took it eagerly and drank down the glass after a hard day at work. They made small talk for a moment before her head began to hurt. Everything started happening in slow motion and keeping a thought in her mind began to be very difficult. Marcus’ hand on her arm and voice commanded her to focus on him were the only things breaking her strain. She looked up at him, smiled, and stared at her future Master. He said to focus and obeying the command was so simple she barely noticed doing so.

“Good girl,” Marcus said with warm approval. The drug in the drink was used to, ironically, deprogram cult victims. He would be using it to begin his own harem. “Kimberly, kneel on the floor and bow to me.” His thrall did so immediately. He walked behind her and took the small box, about the size of one a pair of earbuds would sit in, and took out a small microchip, which he attached to her neck.

After a moment, the beautiful Korean woman gasped in a combination of pain and ecstasy as the chip overrode her body and mind. Marcus patted his future bimbo wife, as vapid and docile as those women she had scolded in her thoughts on the way over, as she fell over and lay on the floor. By this time the next evening, her mind and body would exist only to serve him as his obedient slave.

* * *

Twenty four hours later, Marcus had completed not only reprogramming his future wife, but also running some tests for both practical and amusing reasons. She now stood at attention in a very tight leather skirt, firm fitting sweater, stockings, and black pumps. His thrall stared straight ahead with her hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. A black collar was snapped tightly around her neck. The chip could still be seen on the back of her neck, but in a few days it would settle down into the skin and become unmovable.

Marcus walked around his latest thrall. At this point, the chips worked fine, but he still ran tests after some problems with the first few women. His future wife had passed with flying colors and he looked forward to her absolute devotion to him after humiliating the beautiful Korean woman a little bit.

“ACTIVATE CODE YT431” he said in a firm voice, which brought her back to life. She blinked rapidly and let out a very feminine gasp while darting her eyes around the room to get a bearing on her surroundings.

After a moment she spoke: “Sir, why can’t I move?” Her gasp brought a smile to Marcus’ face. “Sir, why did I say ‘Sir’?”

“You said ‘Sir’ at the beginning of a statement because I made you. Effective immediately, you are going to have a lot more respect for me.” He watched her, again, try to move without any success. “Stop trying to move. I will release you after this conversation. That is a direct order.”

“Sir, I will stop moving. You will release me after this conversation.” She looked at him with a sense of dread and fear. What had he done to her? She was oddly calm about the situation though. More a passive curiosity than anything else.

“Good girl.” Marcus smiled at her happy sigh. Reprogramming the defiant career woman had been his most straight forward case so far. “As you know, I have been working on a secret project.” He walked over to a table and picked up another container like the one from last night. “These are,” he began while opening it,” microchips that can control of the mind and body of a person. They will have a lot of medical uses, surely, but they can also be used to turn uppity bitches like you into devoted slaves.”

She continued to have a confused expression on her face. The lack of fear had been programmed into her. No need to be cruel. “Turn towards the wall.”

Marcus’ slave obeyed immediately and saw herself in the mirror. The leather skirt held her tight backside quite nicely. The sweater hung slightly. “I need breast implants” was a thought that just suddenly popped into her head and the simplified woman internally nodded along as the idea became a truth to her. Finally, she noticed the collar, which had the name KIMMIE written on it in a very feminine cursive, bright pink, font. That name seemed so clear, so obvious to her, and Kimmie quickly forgot ever being “Kimberly” before this moment.

“In a moment,” Marcus began, “I am going to activate your new programming completely. You may have a slight headache, but don’t worry you won’t have any thoughts in your little girlie brain I didn’t put there anymore. Thinking is way too hard for women in general.”

Kimmie stared at him with vapid fascination. She was so unsure what had even happened already. Her mind was so cloudy and could only focus when Marcus was speaking to her. Something about a microchip?

Her focus returned to Marcus when he began speaking again. “Kimmie, the bottom line is this: You are going to be my wife. You will smile, look pretty, and do as I say. At some point, you’ll be bred until I have a few sons that my empire can eventually be passed down to later in our lives.” He held up a small black box that looked like a remote for a streaming device. “When I push this button, these views will become yours. You will be madly in love with me and devoted to being my perfect wife.”

He took a step closer to her. Kimmie’s eyes darted around, but she still did not move. He had, after all, given a direct order. “I am willing to allow you a final statement before I erase your free will. Activate voice.”

Kimmie gasped and began rapidly speaking in a hyperactive, up-pitched, voice. “Um, like, you can’t do this to me! People will, like, know that I changed! I told a friend I was coming here. She will, um, call the cops and stuff.”

Marcus shook his head sadly. “Deactivate vocals.” Kimmie’s mouth immediately closed. “Good girl. A few concerns here. First, I can, of course, do this to you. I am a man of means with access to vast technology. Clearly by what a slut you look like right now and the fact that you have already switched from your usual bitchy tone to that of a bubble brained bimbo shows that, I absolutely can, and will, do this to you.”

“As for,” he continued, “whether people will know that you changed, I am not so sure. I have already began having my press staff, my actual one, begin planting rumors around my corporation and the one you worked at until this morning. The rumors being spread include stories about you sucking and fucking your way into your position. They also involve you betraying coworkers to the bosses. You didn’t, but they are morons who will believe it. So such for sisterhood and solidarity I guess. Funny how you empowered women always turn on each other the moment you can.”

He leaned forward and put a hand on her collar with a sad expression on his face. “You are much better off with me. I will surround you with women who love and care for you. Well, because I programmed them to do so. Your only real skill is being my slave. You are decent at your job, but a man could easily do it. You’re just a dumb bitch.”

Marcus continued, feeling quite smug at this point. “As for your friend, I am glad you told me about that. You are going to ask her to join us once your programming is online. She will make a good maid for us. I can’t wait to make you treat her like garbage.”

He took a step closer. “She is going to be concerned anyway given the way you told off your boss earlier today. I had to test out your programming and make sure I had complete control. Let me show you a video. This was a few hours ago.”

Marcus sat down at his desk and toggled up a video. As he did, a large video screen came down from the ceiling in front of Kimmie. The video showed her sitting at her Master’s desk and making a phone call on her phone. Her eyes looked so blank and empty. Her face had cum all over it.

“...Yeah, you heard me, you fucking cunt,” she heard herself say, “...you are a piece of shit and I hate you! Bitches like you shouldn’t have jobs. I hate having a job!” She slammed the phone down and then froze in place. Marcus came into view of the camera, said something inaudible, and Kimmie became stiff as a board. At this point, he turned off the video.

“See, your career is over.” He looked at her with some sympathy. “You destroyed it in one phone call. Surely she will want some answers, which is how we will trap her here.”

Kimmie looked at him in absolute shock. Marcus continued to describe his plan. “Your stunt will make the usual technology gossip blogs. My plan is for you to have another meltdown in a club or something like that and then vanish for a bit while I train you. You will reappear as a happy housewife ready to help me in any way I see fit for you. You’ll scold your meanie boss and those angry women with their careers.”

He snapped his fingers with excitement. “You could even start one of those bullshit foundations people use as tax havens. We could have a never ending flow of women to program. We could auction them off.” Marcus smiled with pride at his future wife. “Kimmie, you could be the public face of that!” A tear dropped down her face.

“Oh, stop crying.” Kimmie ceased crying immediately. “Huh, interesting,” Marcus mused to himself. “We might have to explore that later...”

Marcus checked a few more settings and, satisfied with what they looked like, and turned to her. “I’ll let you have a final statement before becoming my devoted slave.”

Kimberly gasped as the ability to speak returned to her. “Please, Marcus, don’t do this! I’ll do anything! I’ll be a good wife! I won’t tell anyone! I’ll fuck you every day. I’ll help you find women to program! We can do this together. I’ll never tell.”

Marcus stared at her for a long moment before sighing loudly with a resigned expression on his face. “Yeah, right. Sure you won’t. Activate Kimmie-Doll1.”

Kimberly screamed for a split second before going completely silent. A few minutes later she blinked rapidly and then softly smiled at him. Her former apprehension had been replaced by a look of total devotion to her Master. “Master, Kimmie Doll is online. She is your obedient slave.” Her harsh tone had been replaced by a quiet, docile, and slightly up-pitched voice that filled the room with feminine submission.

Kimmie knelt before Marcus and looked up before lowering her eyes in feminine submission. “Master, how will Kimmie obey?” The formerly defiant woman bowed to Master and remained there until commanded.

Marcus stared down at her with a curious look on his face. Kimmie had come out exactly as he had programmed her to be. His other experiments so far had not come out like he desired, so he was glad his urge to program Kimmie had been slowed by a more logical desire to have her just the right way he wanted forever.

He put a hand on her head. “Stand up.” Kimmie obeyed immediately. “Please run a system diagnostic.”

“Yes, of course, Master,” Kimmie softly confirmed. “Running system diagnostic. Scanning...” Her eyes became glassy and vacant. “Master, expect a three minute wait.” At Marcus’ nod, her pouty mouth was left slightly ajar as the diagnostics began running inside of her.

Suddenly she smiled proudly. “Master, Kimmie Doll’s diagnostic is complete. All systems are running correctly. Master, how will Kimmie obey?” She leaned her breasts forward. Yeah, they definitely needed an upgrade.

Marcus looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. “Run a diagnostic on your memories.” He waited a few minutes until she confirmed that her memory circuit was running properly and then asked how she could obey again. “Tell me about your recent memories, Kimmie. How did you get to be in this position?”

“Master,” Kimmie began breathlessly, “Kimmie sucked and fucked her way into her position at her former job. She slept with men and women to get where she was due to her lack of skills. She betrayed coworkers to her boss. She told that cunt off to show how devoted she is to you. Master, how will Kimmie obey? Her only real skill is being your slave.” She stared at him with a look of absolute devotion mirrored in her eyes.

“Good girl,” Marcus commented to her. She had completely taken to the new perspective he had programmed into her for how she had come to be with him. Kimmie would not have new memories per-say, but could recite “memories” if asked by anyone. This is why it was important that gossip spread to make sure enough people, even if they did not have memories of her behaving in such unseemly ways, would have “memories” of her behaving in such unseemly ways. People were always willing to gaslight themselves, especially women, for good, shameful, gossip about someone else. All the feminism talk got dropped the moment a woman could shit on another woman.

Marcus looked over at the listed of questions on his desk. “Kimmie, please tell me your model number.”

“Master,” she began, her voice becoming even more vapid sounding, “Kimmie has been assigned model number Kimmie-Doll3. Master, how will Kimmie obey?”

He had assigned her “Doll3” to reflect the two other finished dolls that were out there in the world doing his bidding already. Soon enough, a “Doll4” would be added to his collection.

Kimmie’s eyes lit up. “Master, Kimmie functions as your bimbo trophy wife. She will obey you in all things. She will look sexy on your arm. She is programmed for expert level cock sucking. She has a body focused on your pleasure and is fertile if you decide to breed her.” The bimbo stopped speaking for a few seconds, looking thoughtful. “Master, Kimmie is unsure about her body. She feels sad and insecure. Can she change it to please you?”

He added this sense of insecurity to her programming to keep Kimmie in line. No woman should ever, in his estimation, feel good about their body. They should have a constant pang of doubt, which gets turned into a deep need to alter their body for the pleasure of men.

“Well,” he began, taking on a very paternal tone. “You certainly need breast implants…permanent hair removal for sure...maybe a few tattoos...might want to plump up those lips too, since you’re such a cock sucking expert...” Kimmie gasped and began whimpering at his criticism. A pleading, apologetic look came over her face. A single tear streamed down her pretty face.

Marcus touched her face. “Enter programming mode.”

Kimmie froze in place. “Master, Kimmie is in programming mode,” she confirmed in an up-pitched monotone.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he began. “Tomorrow you will be going for cosmetic surgery. Like I said, new tits, get rid of some body hair, maybe some other stuff. The doctor is a friend of mine. I already paid him by turning his rude secretary into his devoted sex toy. The two of you are going to be such great friends one day! End programming mode.”

Kimmie gasped again, smiled, and hugged her owner. “Master, thank you so much! Kimmie is so happy to change her body to please you. She can’t wait to be good friends with your friend.”

The Simplified woman had kind of messed up that part, but close enough. “Kimmie, Pause.” Kimmie froze in place, mouth half open, and eyes wide.

“Good, I am glad to see that works in real time.” Marcus had, of course, tested out Kimmie’s programming all day before going live with her this evening, but he still wanted to do some assessments in the field. He unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants to the floor. He rock hard cock hung out of his plaid boxer shorts. “Unpause.”

Kimmie began giggling and made a cooing noise as Marcus motioned down to his hard cock. She dropped to her knees obediently and took as much of him as she could in her mouth. Kimberly had always been an effortless cock sucker. The beautiful Korean woman did it mostly because Marcus liked it, but the new and significantly improved Kimmie gave her the best blowjob of his life. Her programming conditioned her to try and make the next one even better.

Her enthusiasm, never really seen before, greatly excited Marcus and it took a lot of effort to not immediately cum in her mouth. “Oh, it’s so big!” She exclaimed loudly with feminine excitement. Marcus was averaged sized, at best, but in her reprogrammed state, Kimmie found his cock to be massive and all consuming. In fact, she would find anything he did, according to how he had coded the chip, to be incredible, wonderful, and mind blowing all at once. The formerly cold and indifferent woman would be incredibly impressed by his every action.

However, as amazing as her cock sucking skills had suddenly become, he valiantly held on for a few more minutes before Kimmie’s face was filled with his cum.

He took a few steps back, pulled his pants back up and grinned at her. “Pause.” Kimmie froze in place, cum dripping down her face. Her pleasant smile was matched by the puppy dog eyed devotion mirrored in her eyes.

“Hmm,” Marcus said out loud, “what do I do with her now?” He watched cum drip off of her chin and onto the floor. Sighing, Kimmie’s Master went into his bathroom and got a hand towel to wipe her face off. He cleaned her up, feeling a bit down about abusing her face, and then wiped away any other bodily fluids.

Content with her face not being soaked in cum anymore, Marcus stared at the frozen woman. “Unpause,” he said quietly. Kimmie blinked back to life and stared up at him with joy and love. She truly existed to serve him.

“Hmm.” Marcus looked thoughtful for a moment. “Oh, I know, we can capture your friend!” It was time to test out another aspect of the chip. “Deactivate Kimmie-Doll1 personality and reactivate Kimberly1 personality.”

Kimmie blinked a few times and the joyful smile left her face for the more insincere one that normally was expressed by Kimberly. It was fascinating see the difference.

Marcus decided to test out a few things. “Kimberly, please tell me what your purpose in life is?”

Kimberly stared at him. “Master, Kimberly functions as your bimbo trophy wife. She will obey you in all things. She will look sexy on your arm. She is programmed for expert level cock sucking. She has a body focused on your pleasure and is fertile if you decide to breed her.” She stopped speaking for a few seconds, looking thoughtful. “Master, Kimberly is unsure about her body. She feels sad and insecure. Can she change it to please you?” All of this came out in her normal, bitchy, harsh, tone and not the more pleasant and docile one Kimmie used in conversation. Kimmie was definitely a lot better.

“Uh huh,” was all Marcus replied with to Kimberly’s recitement of her programming. No matter what personality she had, the chip overlaid it with these views. Amusement could certainly be found in this, but he had an actual task for Kimberly to complete for him.

“Kimberly, your purse is by the door. Please call Roberta and tell her the great news about our engagement, how happy you are, and how you are taking a job at my company. Well, until the wedding at least, when you become Mrs. Andrews and are going to be a housewife. Please inform her that I am going to start a foundation for you to head too. Once she is done yelling at you, invite her over to see you. Tell her I am away for the evening at a corporate function.

Kimberly immediately swayed over to her purse, which was by the door as Marcus had noted, pulled her phone out, and called Roberta. Marcus motioned for her to put the call on speaker and she did obediently.

His mind controlled thrall began talking once Roberta said hello. “Hi, I need to tell you the great news about my engagement to Marcus!” Roberta began yelling something incomprehensible. “It’s true, I am so happy and going to take a job at his company. Well,” she giggled out, “until the wedding at least, when I become Mrs. Andrews. I am going to be a housewife after that. Marcus is going to start a foundation for me to head.” Both Master and slave stood there while she yelled. After about 45 seconds, Marcus gave Kimberly a thumbs up. “Hey, why don’t you come over and we can discuss this? I am at Marcus’ place. He is away for the evening at a corporate function.” Roberta’s screaming and yelling ended with a declaration that she would be right over.

* * *

Roberta got in a flying taxi car and made her way over Marcus’ apartment. Kimberly had been her best friend since college. They had pledged a sorority together and shared a major and many classes. They were together during the highs of university and the lows, which included the Dean’s List and breakups with shitty guys.

She entered his building and headed towards the elevator. The beautiful redhead looked stunning in a form fitting pantsuit. The pumps on her feet echoed down the hall as she entered it to head up to Marcus’ floor.

What had gotten into Kimberly? She had been so dismissive of Marcus and openly admitted to only date him for his wealth. Now she wanted to be a housewife? Kimberly definitely wanted the easy life, but had always been focused on her career too. It made no sense to her best friend, but soon enough it would once Kimmie and Marcus had their way with her.

She pressed a white tipped nail against Marcus’ security system. A moment later, the door opened and Kimberly came over to hug her. The Korean woman was dressed in a leather mini skirt, but that was not too odd for her friend. “Come sit down, have a drink.”

Kimberly practically shoved her friend down on the couch. “Kim, you need to tell me what is up. I thought Marcus was just someone to pass the time with? Why would you want to marry him?”

“I am so happy now,” she began to explain, “Marcus is amazing. He is much better than I thought. He is going to create a foundation for me to run. I can still be a housewife though. He says I don’t ever have to actually go into the office.” She let out a little giggle, which signified how easily reprogrammed the supposedly oh so smart woman was for her Master.

Roberta took a second sip from her wine and stood up. “Kim, this is so weird. What about your career? Don’t you want to have a job? A life?” The redhead stopped talking as her mind became super woozy. The room spun around a bit and Roberta sat down again. “Wow that wine was strong.” She found it harder to focus on anything and was caught by her friend before falling over on the couch. Kimberly petted her friend’s hair, happy that she was about to become Master’s slave.

Speaking of Master, Marcus came out of the other room and lightly applauded his future wife. “Good girl.” He held up Roberta’s head and snapped a collar around her neck. The name “Bobbi” was emblazoned on it in bright pink. The collar fit quiet nicely around his new slave’s neck.

“Pause,” Marcus said and Kimberly froze in place. “Deactivate Kimberly1 personality and reactivate Kimmie-Doll1 personality. Unpause.”

After a moment, Kimmie came back online. “Oh, Master, you caught her! She is going to be a great slave for you!” She stared at the collar. “Bobbi! That is such a good girl name. Like Kimmi.”

Marcus took her by the arm and kissed his slave. She eagerly returned the kiss. “Yes, that is true, and you know what, you are going to be the person who seals her fate.” He went into the other room and came back with another chip.

Kimmie started clapping cheerfully and carefully took it from him. Marcus frowned a little at how “simple” she was acting and would have to adjust her programming a little. He liked her bimbo attitude, but wanted her to still act like a grown up.

She went to place the chip on her friend, sealing the woman’s fate to a lifetime of servitude, but then realized that the Korean slave had no idea where it should be placed. Marcus literally laughed out loud, made a note to program that information into future slaves, and knelt down to show her where it would be placed on Roberta’s neck.

Kimmie gently placed it on Roberta’s neck, right below the collar, and then looked up for approval from her Master, who gave her an approving nod. The slave stared at her friend, who did not move.

“Oh, it will take some time. I need to run tests on her tomorrow while you are visiting the cosmetic surgeon.” Marcus kissed Kimmie again, who happily returned it. They carried Roberta into his spare room, which was where all of his personal research was done and placed her in the large cage. After locking her in, the chip would make sure she did not leave though, he turned back to his future wife. “I will deal with her tomorrow while you are away.”

He placed a hand on her face. “You will be in surgery tomorrow. There is at least one day of recovery, maybe a little more. Obey the doctors and be a good girl. Doctor Bedford is a personal friend of mine and treat him like you treat me.”

“Master, Kimmie will treat Doctor Bedford like she treats you.” It was true: He had gone to university with his friend James Bedford, who was now a cosmetic surgeon specializing in the kind of procedures Marcus desired for Kimmie. The good doctor had been one of the first people he brought into his inner circle and had been paid for his confidentiality via Marcus chipping his two nursing assistants and turning the, for one, defiant and unruly, and second, lazy and unorganized, nurses into his bimbo thralls. He was also considering marrying one of them, but could not make up his mind. It was tough having two women begging to be enslaved even more! Rough life for sure.

“Good girl,” Marcus said as he traced his hand over Kimmie’s soon to be significantly expanded chest. He leaned in and kissed her. “You know that I do love you, right? Even before any of this. I very carefully chose you.” He kissed her again and violent pushed his slave to the bed. Ignoring her feminine giggle at his roughness, which she was programmed to be deeply turned on by, he tore at her clothing and yanked down the skirt in the way of his cock entering her.

Marcus and Kimmie made love. He slowed down after a moment and took his time, which caused both of them to have intense orgasms. Master and slave slept snugly together and, in the morning, Kimmie obediently left for the good doctor Bedford for her transformation into Master’s perfect woman.

That evening, while at the same time Kimmie was recovering from her breast enhancement, Roberta stood at attention, frozen in place, wearing a maid uniform. Her modest breasts, she surely needed a trip to Dr. Bedford as well, hung out of the uniform. The six inch pumps on her feet assisted with showing off those assets. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. The blank expression on the face of Marcus’ new slave confirmed the chip had completely reprogrammed “Bobbi,” which was reinforced by the collar around her neck with the new name emblazoned on it in bright pink.

Marcus had tested Bobbi all day long and was quite satisfied with the maid’s performance. Roberta had been a bitch. She went to university with Kimberly and had all these stupid thoughts about having a career and being successful over men. Bobbi, however, existed only to obey. As Marcus and Kimmie transitioned to being husband and wife, his new wife would need some domestic assistance. Her former friend was the ideal candidate for this.

Of course, he would be programming Kimmie to find Bobbi to be significantly inferior to her. The maid was just that...the help. They were not friends, but employer and employee. As much as a bimbo wife like Kimmie existed to love, honor, and obey Marcus, their maid existed to be seen and not heard. She would be programmed herself to fear displeasing Kimmie as it would thus displease their Master. At some point, he knew, boredom would set it and Bobbi could be auctioned off to a suitable man.

Marcus stared at her. Satisfied with his work, he decided to activate her. “Activate Bobbi-Doll4.”

Bobbi gasped, looked around, saw her Master, and curtsied low for him. Yep, she definitely needed fake tits. “Master, Bobbi exists to serve the Andrews household. Please program her for your needs.” She rose from the curtsy, but her eyes remained at the floor out of respect for her male superior. Gone was the smugness, the arrogance, the rude career focused cunt, and what now stood before him a perfect example of what all women should be: Docile, feminine, and obedient.

“Bobbi, what is your purpose in life?” He needed to make sure none of Roberta was still in there.

“Master,” she confirmed, eyes remaining lowered, “Bobbi exists to serve the Andrews household. She is grateful you created her to serve you.”

“Good girl,” he replied. “Tell me, how long have you lived?”

“Master, Bobbi has been online for three minutes and 47 seconds.” He had added a piece to her programming to make the bimbo maid think she was an automaton that Marcus had created for his use. This was thinking ahead to a future idea he had for how his dolls could be used and, more importantly, make him a lot of money.

“Good to hear. Look up at me, maid.” Bobbi looked up with the same puppy dog eyed devotion in her eyes that Kimmie had displayed earlier. “I have installed a set of tasks for you to complete daily. You will serve me and my fiance in all things. It is the evening, so how about you just assume position two and perform. Afterwards you will turn off for the evening.”

Bobbi did not speak, but instead dropped to her knees, undid Marcus’ belt, and sucked his cock until completion. Afterwards, he spanked her hard on the backside, and Bobbi swayed over to the living room closet, where a space had been created for her to stand in the evening while not in use. Bobbi snapped to attention and turned off. Her body froze, green eyes became blank, and she stayed in place until activation in the morning for the next day’s tasks.

Roberta would suddenly “move away” after an opportunity came up elsewhere. A client of Marcus’, interested in getting his unruly wife and uppity college daughter back in line had created a fake job for her in his company. When she no showed it, there would be a brief investigation until a police contact made it go away. Roberta was effectively dead.

* * *

A few days later, Kimmie was returned to Marcus by Doctor Bedford with his compliments on what a lovely canvas he had been given to craft his friend’s ideal woman from during a series of surgeries. The beautiful Korean woman had gone through quite the change to please her new Master.

Kimmie’s breasts had been expanded a few cup sizes. Not quite what Marcus had originally wanted, but the good doctor had argued to his friend that if she was still going to, vaguely at least, be a public figure for awhile she could not go all the way to what he wanted. The argument made sense, so only E cups for now. She was permanently hairless below the shoulders. Her hair had been dyed purple and, with modern nanotech, would remain that way until his whims decided otherwise. A tattoo had been added to her lower back with “Mrs. Andrews” and a bar code above it.

Kimmie had been returned by his friend via a very large packing box. The delivery service must have wondered what “it” was in the package, but did not ask questions after his rather generous tip to them. She was currently standing at attention in his living room in “off” mode wearing a very tight sweater and miniskirt. Her eyes with blank and would remain so until he turned her back on.

Next to her stood Bobbi the maid. Marcus had spent the past few days tinkering with her until his ideal servant had been created. She would be sent off to Doctor Bedford once things really settled down for the full menu of delightful upgrades the doctor offered for her.

After fidgeting with their code one last time, Marcus, ever the perfectionist, decided to fully activate both of his slaves. Each came to life with a loud gasp and then a passive bimbo smile.

“Master, Kimmi functions as your bimbo trophy wife. She will obey you in all things. She will look sexy on your arm. She is programmed for expert level cock sucking. She has a body focused on your pleasure and is fertile if you decide to breed her.”

“Master, Bobbi exists to serve the Andrews household. She is grateful you created her to serve you. Perhaps you would like her to vacuum or suck your cock?”

Marcus nodded at both of them, very proud of his programming and code. Gone was the defiant bitch girlfriend and her annoying friend. They had been replaced with an eager trophy wife and a mindless maid.

“Kimmi,” he said, gaining her complete attention immediately, “tell me about our maid.”

“Master,” she began in a slightly up-pitched voice, “Maid exists to serve the Andrews household. She is grateful you created her to serve us.” The former best friends did not exist anymore. All Kimmie saw was “Maid” who was programmed to help and serve Master.

“Good girl,” Marcus said as he drew closer to her. He swung his future wife around, dropped his pants, and began fucking her ass. As he grunted in and out of her, behind them Bobbi began her daily cleaning ritual as if nothing abnormal was going on behind them. Afterwards, she would clean up his cum off the floor obediently.

* * *

A few weeks went by. The audio of Kimberly telling off her boss ended up going viral after it was leaked by Marcus’ public relations division. For a few days she was the laughing stock of the internet, but then the usual feminist idiots wrote the usual op-ed columns where they demand any idiot woman who does something idiotic be actually emphasized with instead of mocked. This, hilariously, played right into Marcus’ scheme to put his bimbo wife back into the public without much cause for concern. Morons.

A further report was leaked announcing that Kimberly was in private counseling and would like privacy before making a formal public statement. A few weeks later, she reappeared in public at Marcus side for an event. There were some murmurs about her breast implants and new, generally, look, but most people kept them to themselves in fear of the wrath of the op-ed class that weaponized real concerns about misogyny for their own click bait agendas.

The next day, a video appeared online where she confessed to going into therapy. The former publicist ran through her mental breakdown, which primarily revolved around her being so frustrated about being a career woman. She waved her engagement ring at the camera, announced she hated feminism, and could not wait to be a housewife. The video ended with her pleading for other women to make these changes too.

Overnight the video received four million views. It became the talk of social media for a little while. Some women admitted that, they too, hated having careers. Marcus, after Kimmie sucked his cock and Bobbi served breakfast, went to work to begin creating an algorithm that would track those women to see if any were desirable for chipping. After all, they already admitted they want to be housewives, so if they end up being one, whether they actually want it or not, most people will not question it.

This social media sensation was what led Jennifer Graham, up and coming reporter at the city newspaper (well...it was a blog basically these days…) to inquire about doing an interview with the future Mrs. Andrews about her change of heart and the popularity of the video. Jennifer was a hard hitting, career focused, reporter, but also knew a social media sensation that would get clicks, and advertising dollars, when she saw one. This airhead had a mental breakdown and she would do a report on it and cash in.

However, her request for an interview with Kimberly was put off by Marcus’ company, who were handling all of her PR moving forward since she would soon be the wife of its owner. A counteroffer was initiated: Meet with Marcus and he will decide whether Jennifer is trustworthy of an interview with his fiance. He was being very protective of her, given the fragile mental state she was in, and wanted to make sure any interviews she did were with reporters who would not violate her trust or privacy.

All Jennifer could think, before grudgingly accepting these terms, was what a patriarchal asshole Marcus Andrews must be. It was one thing to be careful around reporters, but to have to have a man approve an interview by a woman, with another woman, was insufferable. She would put on all the right charms and make sure the interview went forward.

Jennifer arrived via flying taxi at the corporate office and entered it. She was dressed in her best pinstripe pantsuit, sensible flats, and a fairly tight blouse. The blonde reporter wanted to look professional to ensure she was taken seriously, but also knew that sex sold and, given the ample breast implants the woman she wanted to interview had acquired recently, the curvy woman was sure her feminine charms could be useful. It had manipulated men in college, including a professor or two, and at jobs with weak men who let their dicks do their thinking for them.

What Jennifer realized as she entered the corporate office was that, if anything, the beautiful blonde was overdressed. Every woman seemed to be wearing a short skirt, or tight dress, sky high heels, and vapid smiles. She quickly realized that two or three of them stood around a man who instructed them on what to do. There was no discussion, no talk back, just a lot of nods and even a few quiet “Yes, Sir” statements. How would any of these women be taken seriously if they were so passive? Must be the types who get a degree to find a husband!

A very muscular security officer waved down the reporter and escorted her to Marcus’ office. She sat down in a chair outside of it and stared at the pretty brunette at the desk, who was dressed in a form fitting sweater dress and pumps. A smile never left her face as she typed with long, white tipped, nails.

Jennifer thought the women of this company were nuts. She would have to try to do a followup with a few of them though to see if an investigation was warranted: Was this a company dress code? Was the boss a creep? This must be a breeding ground for sexual harassment cases! She could make a career out of reporting on this place. She knew a few lawyers who would love to turn this into a feminist cause to launch their political ambitions.

She would have, surely, if only for the fact that in a few minutes a chip would be on the back of her neck and soon after her loyalties would be to this company as well.

The brunette wore an obnoxious necklace with the name “Bambi” on it. She looked so silly and flirtatious. Jennifer was stunned to see a degree on the wall announcing that she not only had a Bachelor’s Degree, but had been an honors student. Sure the job market was not that great, but how do you end up in a place like this and looking like that?

Jennifer would soon enough get an answer because Bambi suddenly looked up, smiled at the reporter, and announced that Mr. Andrews was ready to see her. The brunette bimbo, one of Marcus’ early experiments, waved a manicured hand towards her Master’s office door. The blonde reporter did not acknowledge her as she stomped into it in a huff.

The office was fairly spartan, which surprised Miss Graham. Given Marcus’ tastes in women, she expected something more lavish. There was an L shaped desk with a laptop and a few gadgets hooked into it. Two screens sat behind him, but neither was on. At first Marcus did not acknowledge her, but after a moment he looked up. “Hey Miss Graham, please sit down.”

Jennifer tried to ignore the patriarchal condensation in the “Miss” as opposed to “Ms” in his voice and sat down in one of two chairs in front of his desk. They were both very fancy, but instead of having wheels they were connected to the floor with metal bolts. Nevertheless, the arm rests and back were very comfortable and at least she could relax in the chair.

“I’m glad you were able to make it today,” Marcus began, “so we could speak about you receiving permission to interview my fiance. I apologize for making you go through this extra step, but I want to make sure the right person gets this exclusive. If all goes well, there may even be a role in my company for you.” He sat up and shrugged. “I am actually looking for a new public relations director.”

Jennifer could not tell his this man, in a very casual zip up sweatshirt and jeans, was being serious. A job? “Well, I have a career of my own. I do want to do the interview and hope you can trust me to be fair and objective to Kimberly.” She tapped some lint off her pinstripe suit. “Frankly, I’m not sure I would fit in with the dress code around here.”

Marcus chuckled. “The women in my office love to express themselves via their clothing. They like looking attractive, well, and it leads to a more productive, happy, work environment. I think you would fit in with them.” He gave her an approving grin, but then leaned back. “Hmm. That was pretty forward of me. I’m sorry.”

Suddenly, he brightened. “See! This is why I need a good public relations director. A beautiful woman like you could become the public face of the company. I would rather tinker and code instead of dealing with media. No offense.” He shrugged at her. “I always end up saying something stupid.”

Jennifer could not believe it! This man, who demanded to interview her before she could interview his fiance just made a pass at her! There was definitely something wrong at this company. “Um, thanks, but I have to decline your offer. I am doing fine as a reporter. Can we please focus on the matter at hand so I can do my job?” She looked around trying to find anything incriminating in his office. It was so spartan and seemed to offer no clues to her.

Marcus sighed and stood up. “Sure of course, but seriously I think you would fit in great here. My company is going to be worth a lot of money. I can pay you significantly more than what you are making now.” He leaned forward. “My wife is going to love you. I think you can do the interview, and then you should stay on with us. You can do my promotional stuff and then work with the foundation I am creating for her.”

He nodded at her frown with acquiescence to what was going to happen next. A few seconds later Bambi entered his office as the door swooshed open. His assistant had been an honors student at the local city college and one of his first experiments using the chip. He had not dumbed her down too much, but had turned her devotion and obedience up. He had left script in her daily programming update to enter his office after the meeting had been going on for a bit, after listening in on a hidden microphone, to bring him something.

Bambi swayed into the room. “Do you still need this, Sir?” She held out a small box with a manicured hand.

Jennifer turned and looked at the woman with derision. “Sir?” Seriously?

“Ah,” Marcus began, messing with the zipper on his sweatshirt, “I believe I do.” He turned and looked Jennifer in the eye. “Please reconsider?”

Jennifer chuckled. “This isn’t a negotiation.”

Marcus slowly shook his head while nodding at Bambi. “No, no it isn’t I guess.”

Before Jennifer could offer another amusing quip, Bambi took the box in her hand, opened it up, and took the chip out. A second later, it was attached to Jennifer’s neck. This was a new chip with a blue center unit.

Jennifer screamed out in pain, but after a few seconds froze in place before falling over into Bambi’s arms. The programmed secretary gently led her Master’s newest thrall to the floor.

“Good girl,” Marcus said with a patriarchal hand on her shoulder. “Send in two engineers. We need to start working on this one immediately.”

* * *

A week later, a blonde haired woman with pink and purple streaks through her hair swayed into Marcus and Kimmi’s new foundation. She happily hummed to herself after entering the elevator with two other women. Her clothing was very similar to their own: A tight blouse, miniskirt, platform sandals, and a happy smile. Her nails were long and fake, almost as fake as the breast implants she was scheduled to receive two weeks hence would be, and the name tag “Jenni” was attached to the blouse.

Jenni was finishing her first week as the head of public relations for the foundation. Her amazing boss Marcus Andrews had brought her in to interview his brave fiance about her struggles in the workforce and offered the vapid bimbo a job on the spot. She had eagerly accepted it and spent the weekend learning about the rules and regulations for female employees at hew new work place.

There was, of course, a dress code, which was sensible. A reasonable four inch high heel, at a minimum, requirement seemed obvious to her, as did the mandated hair and nail trips to the company salon each week. The banning of women wearing pants was also an obvious concept: Why would a feminine woman, trying to find a husband, dress like a male?

All three women stood in silence in the elevator. Jenni knew the other women, but women did not speak unless spoken to at the foundation. It was a rule they did not tell anyone outside of the company, but happily obeyed. Jenni could not imagine disobeying a male’s direct order. After all, that was how her friend Kimmi had gotten into so much trouble with Mr. Andrews. Her heart fluttered at the idea of finding her own husband to love, honor, and obey.

She entered the main offices as her high heels echoed off the hard floors. Jenni did not notice the other women turn, one in each direction, to their destinations. Her own was Mr. Andrews’ office for a morning briefing. Her heart raced with excitement at learning how she would serve his company today!

Jenni waved her fake nailed hand at Bambi, who waved back. The bimbo secretary had announced yesterday that she was getting married! Mr. Andrews had found a great man for her and she would resign in two weeks to begin preparing for domestic life.

Before the blonde public relations officer could ponder domestic bliss too much, she entered his office and snapped to attention before her superior. Marcus was, as always, distracted by coding. As much as he was going to enjoy what happened next, he also had a routine to keep to for effeminacy. His home life, with his obedient fiance and mindless maid, had become quite ordered and it was important to keep that up at work as well. He ended a line of code, scanned back over the last few lines, and then confidently looked up at his most recent experiment.

“Ah, Jenni, great, have a seat.” She obediently sat in the chair across from his desk and crossed her shapely legs. “I have been impressed by your work this week. You are going to be a great employee until we can find a suitable man for you.” By “find a suitable man for you” he actually meant “auction you off to the highest bidder and reprogram you to be their absolute slave,” but let us not nitpick here.

Jenni gave him a flirty smile. “Yes, Sir. Thank you. Jenni will always work to the best of her abilities to please men.”

“Well, that is why I brought you here today.” He pressed a button on his desk that closed and locked the door to the office. “Activate Jennifer1.”

Jenni gasped loudly as Jennifer came back to life. She woke up, darted her eyes back and forth, and finally spoke, breathing heavily, “why can’t Jennifer move, Sir?” She gasped again at the bubbly, third person, statement that came out of her mouth.

“You can’t move because it is in your program. Trance mode.” The life left Jennifer’s eyes as the brainwashed woman announced she was ready for instruction.”

“Good girl. I may as well tell you the truth.” He shifted in his chair. Rough night of sex with Kimmie. “You see, my company has created a chip that can take control of a woman and turn her into an obedient thrall to the programmed controller. This is how I gained control of my future wife and a number of women here at my company, including your friend Bambi. I’ll miss her when we ship her off to the man who won the auction.”

“Anyway, you were chipped last week during our meeting about interviewing my fiance. What do you remember about that meeting?”

Jennifer was silent for a moment. A tear streamed down her face. “Jennifer...remembers...she is confused, Sir. She can remember one thing, but something else too.”

“Right,” Marcus confirmed, “that is the contradiction here. On one hand, you likely can recall being smug and dismissive towards me coming in here all in a huff in your pantsuit. On the other hand, you likely can recall being charmed by me, realizing you, and every woman, existed to please men, and begging me to accept you for a position as my public relations officer until a proper husband can be found for you.”

Another tear streamed down Jennifer’s face. “Yes, Sir.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “Jennifer will resist you, Sir.”

Marcus laughed. “No, actually you really will not. Let me give you an example. Tell me what your purpose is?”

“Sir, Jennifer functions as your public relations officer. She will obey men in all things until a suitable husband is found for her” She again gasped and more tears streamed down her face. “Jennifer exists to obey, but hates you, Sir. Fuck you, fuck you fuck—”

“Freeze.” Her pouty mouth froze in an O. Marcus sighed. “Your resistance to your fate is so boring. I told you that I would reveal everything and I will keep that promise.” He came around the desk and took a knee in front of her. “You see, Jennifer, when you were chipped, you weren’t just chipped...um...you know what I mean...like the other women...your chip had some experimental code that allowed it to expand into other parts of your body. I have experimented with this in other women, but yours was the first full success.” He took a few steps back and sat on the edge of his desk. “Unfreeze. Stand up.”

Jennifer immediately snapped up out of the chair and stood. Her eyes focused on him. No matter what she did, the blonde slave could not move them away from her controller. A stray thought about how handsome he was drifted into her mind.

Marcus walked over to her and tapped at the pretty woman’s arm. A chunk of her skin slid away to reveal nano-probes and tiny machinery slowly assimilating more of her body. She, again, gasped, but ceased when he put a hand up. “Stop doing that. It’s so annoying.” A beat passed. “Anyway, look down at what I have done to your body. Funny thing happened awhile ago...one of my engineers discovered that if you do...eh, it’s complicated...bottom line is you can turn a human into what is essentially an android. Neat! Now, kneel at my feet and give me the best blowjob you have ever given before. By the time it’s over, I want you to fully become Jenni.”

Jennifer could not stop herself as she knelt obediently on the floor and began fellating Marcus. She felt like her cock sucking skills were pretty solid, so her enthusiasm for obeying his command took over her mind as she bobbed up and down on his cock. The pretty bimbo tried to fight the urge to do it, but her simple female mind succumbed and by the time her Master’s cum was shooting into her mouth, she was fully dedicated to a life of vapid service to him.

Jennifer lowered her eyes for a moment and Jenni looked up. Memories of a previous life faded away and she was now fully Jenni.

“Jenni,” Marcus said quietly and, with admittedly, a bit of love, “what is your purpose?”

“Sir, Jenni began, “Jenni exists to be your public relations officer until a proper husband can be found for her.”

“Good girl,” Marcus said with a pat on her head. He turned and found Bambi waiting at the door. “Sir, may Bambi and Jenni go to lunch?”

“Of course, ladies, you go do your lunch and gossip and all. I’ll be in a meeting for a lot of the afternoon, but don’t take your time.”

Jenni stood up and joined her friend Bambi at the door. Bambi took a step in. “Oh, Sir, Bambi should mention that one of Jennifer’s friends called again worrying about her.” Jenni turned around with a concerned look on her face. Hopefully this Jennifer person was okay!

Marcus nodded. “Right, I will take care of that at some point.” Bambi grinned, turned, and took her friend’s hand as they began discussing where to go for lunch.

* * *

A few weeks passed. Marcus’ home now ran with precision and routine. He came home from work after Bambi’s going away party to find Bobbi swaying across the dining room to place plates in front of seats for both him and Kimmi, who stood at attention on a small podium besides the living room television. Both women wore maid uniforms with Bobbi’s being a light blue and Kimmi’s a bright pink.

Marcus had a lot to celebrate. Bambi had been successfully auctioned off. Jenni, his new assistant, was performing well at work and was currently entertaining a client who was looking to invest in his services to deal with his defiant wife and unruly daughter, who had returned from college with all these ideas about having rights and opinions and not marrying into another high society family. Marcus had commanded Jenni to assure him that by the time he was done with her, she would not have a thought in her little girlie brain that was not programmed into it, nor would his wife.

In general, progress with the chips was going along smoothly. His team had coded some updates, which had been sent out to both Kimmi and Bobbi successfully. He was proud of their work and had begun having meetings with them about how, and who, to reward them with in the future. Work also continued on the foundation that Kimmi would “run,” although in reality the son of a business associate would be taking on day to day activities while his wife only showed up for big events. People sure fell for these kind of foundations. Their interactions with disadvantaged women would also give him another group to pull from when programming new slaves. Who would miss a homeless woman they pulled off the streets?

Bobbi noticed Master and ceased what she was doing, snapped to attention, and stared straight ahead. “Master, Bobbi is yours to command. Her current personality install is obedient maid. She will do what you say.”

Marcus came over to her and ran a hand over her face. “Good girl. Continue doing what you were doing. There is an update to your programming. Please download and install it.”

“Yes, Master,” was her vapid, up-pitched response. “Update downloading. Update installed.” She turned and smiled at him. “Master, Bobbi is grateful for this new programming. She is yours to command. She will do what you say.”

He turned his attention to Kimmi. His fiance had come along in her programming quite nicely and was a big topic of discussion of everyone’s social media app due to her breakdown and reemergence as his fiance with a quite expanded chest. When the foundation opened, a new news cycle would begin again.

“Activate,” he commanded Kimmi and his slave blinked into existence. “Master, Kimmi is yours to command. Her current personality install is bimbo wife in training. She will do what you say.” A second went by and she smiled and then kissed him. “Master! Bobbi is working on dinner.” She ran a long pink nail over his arm. “Is there anything Kimmi can do for you before it is done?”

Marcus chuckled. “No sweetie, not right now. There is an update to your programming. Please download and install it.”

“Yes, Master,” she replied in a dreamy voice. “Update downloading. Update installed.” The beautiful Korean woman turned to him with a vapid bimbo smile. “Master, Kimmi is grateful for this new programming. She is yours to command. She will do what you say.”

Marcus leaned in and kissed her. “Good girl.” He reached around and squeezed her backside. “Let’s go eat dinner and then I have a surprise for you.”

They went over to the dining room table and Bobbi finished putting down their meals and a glass of wine for Marcus. No wine for Kimmi, he had declared early on. Women were never good with alcohol. If he had his way, it would be illegal for them to indulge in it.

Marcus chatted about work to his bimbo fiance. She nodded along and kept telling him how wonderful and amazing everything he had planned was going to be. This was such a pleasant change from her formerly fake and cynical nature.

Bobbi stood at attention behind Marcus’ chair. She stared straight ahead with a blank expression. The maid had no current command, so there was no reason for her to act. This was, again, quite the upgrade from her formerly meddling personality. She would probably still have free will, and lack a massive bust, if Kimberly’s friend had just minded her own business and been happy for her successful engagement.

After dinner, Kimmi helped Bobbi clean up the table and place everything in the dishwasher while Marcus checked on some work issues via his phone. New experiments were being acquired daily each was progressing at a good pace. One of his engineers even put in a request for one of the newest captives, who he claimed called him a “mother fucker” and he decided that her future was being his happy, air headed, wife. “Sure,” Marcus replied with a laugh.

Before long, his slaves returned to face him. “Master,” they began in unison, “we are yours to command. We will do what you say.”

“Of course you will,” he replied with a smirk. “Activate the new programming you installed earlier.”

Both women gasped as their new personalities came online. Bobbi took a step forward. “Master,” she began in a monotone voice, “Bobbi is yours to command. She will do what you say.”

Kimmi took a step forward. “Master, Kimmi is yours to command. She will do what you say.”

“Good girls. Say, Kimmi,” Marcus said as he waved a hand towards Bobbi, “don’t you think that the maid is quite pretty?”

Kimmi blushed deeply. “Yes, Master, she is beautiful, Kimmi is very attracted to her.”

“Good girl. Put on a show for me. Control her. She is just a maid. You are a dumb bimbo, but she is just an inferior bitch.”

His dumb bimbo aggressively moved forward and kissed Bobbi before pulling away and slapping her former best friend. “Kimmi is attracted to you, but you are her inferior. Kneel before her!”

Bobbi dropped to her knees, not daring to look up at a superior. A tear dropped down her face at the shame she felt for having made a superior have feelings for her!

The next thing she knew, Bobbi face was being buried inside Kimmi’s hairless cunt. Neither woman, of course, wore underwear, so her superior offered easy access to the slave. Both women had been reprogrammed with instructions for giving another woman pleasure.

Kimmi had also been programmed with a need to keep Master’s enslaved help in line. She held the maid’s head in place as soft moans came out of her. This continued for awhile as Marcus watched from the couch. Sure it was really hot and all, but he was fascinated by how easy it was to add new personality traits to them.

He cleared out any new emails that had come in since leaving the office, which took about fifteen minutes. Bobbi continued to mindlessly pleasure his fiance while Kimmi whimpered on the edge of orgasm. Her Master had not permitted a release though, so she continued to sit on the precipice. Tears began streaming down her face as her body melted from the tension.

Finally, Marcus looked up. “Oh, uh, right, you can’t come without permission while this macro is installed, can you? You may come now, Kimmi.”

Kimmi absolutely exploded in orgasmic delight. Her scream was loud and femininely guttural in nature. Marcus had to just up off the couch to catch her before she collapsed onto the ground in a pool of her own juices. He cradled her in his arms and then something interesting happened.

For the first time, one of his thralls went into stasis mode. Kimmi panted heavily for a moment and then froze in place. Her eyes closed and she just...stopped. “Stasis mode activated,” she confirmed in a monotone voice. “Report sent to Master.”

Low and behold, the text file listing the error was already on Marcus’ phone as a push notification. Kimmi would be fine, he had coded a lot of fail safes in case of situations like this, but there was a lot to learn from how far the human body, combined with the chips, could be driven, pushed, and programmed.

Of course, the first temptation is always sex. Marcus demanded to have willing, obedient, women who lived for his pleasure. There were other opportunities though. People could be programmed for long term work, for expeditions into space or underwater. Lab testing could be done on the worst shithead criminals.

Plus there was a lot of fucking money on the table. Billions. Trillions.

Marcus carried his fiance to his work room and strapped her onto a table. At this desk, he began some diagnostics that would run overnight. Realizing his cock was rock hard from watching her orgasm into oblivion, he walked back into the living room. “Bobbi, come with me to bed.”

Bobbi obediently rose and followed him to his bedroom, where they fucked for awhile before he shoved her onto the floor where she lay for a moment before rising, fixing her uniform, and returning to the living room closet where she was programmed to go at the end of the evening.

* * *

Another month passed and it was time for Kimmi’s foundation to open. Marcus and Kimmi, one week away from their wedding, attended the opening, which also served as a fundraiser. Marcus wore a suit, and feel ridiculous in it, while Kimmi wore a delightful evening gown.

The future Mrs. Andrews gave an exclusive interview to a media outlet in which she denounced the women’s rights movement for pushing women into careers they could not handle. The lack of a feminine presence in the home led to an unruly, anarchic, society. It was uncivil, immodest, and inappropriate.

While, of course, many strongly opposed this sentiment or did the whole “agree to disagree” thing, but a surprising number of people, including women, found it to be compelling. Staffing the new foundation was not difficult and then programming the female hires to be utterly devoted to the cause became a straight forward process.

The next step would be even further promotion for it. Marcus had a delightful idea: Invite her reporter friend who had been asking around a bit too much to be given a tour of the foundation by Kimmi, so she could be convinced that the foundation was doing right by the unruly young women it was serving.

Eleanor Hearten had been in Kimmi’s graduating class. They had bonded over late night study sessions, cute guys, and a lot of television binging after breakups. She also considered herself to be tough, assertive, and not willing to take anyone’s shit. So when her friend had suddenly had a shift in attitudes, dress, and place of employment, it concerned her a lot. This concern led her to reach out many times, but finally she had sent a message.

Eleanor wanted to respect her friends choices, but the whole thing seemed suspicious. Every woman who was going to work at this new foundation shared very similar views. Each was more beautiful than the last. Some of them had their social media account totally wiped too.

After talking to her boss, she accepted the new Mrs. Andrews’ invitation for a tour. At worst, she she could write an article about it, condemn their views, and get a lot of traffic for it. At best, she would find something incriminating about them and maybe win an award or something.

The foundation had been open for a week on the day she arrived. The space taxi brought her over and the beautiful dark haired woman got out, her low heels clicking across the hard ground. The foundation had stripped out all of the grass that had been here previously as part of a green initiative. Lawns waste water, Mrs. Andrews had argued, and were an environmental nightmare. The lack of foliage made the building, as aesthetically pretty as it was, looking hard, and dystopian. If only she knew what was going on inside.

At the door, a muscular security guard stared at her through the double doors. Eleanor went through the first and was then stopped by the dark haired woman, whose name tag read “Bella,” and run through a metal detector and then patted down. “Can’t be too careful, Miss Hearten,” she said in a quiet voice. As the reporter went through the next set of doors, she did not notice the guard’s expression go back to a state of blankness as before. Bella had been a dancer Marcus took a liking too. Convincing her to join their staff and remold herself as a ripped and toned security officer had been as easy as one mind control chip implant.

Inside the Foundation, Eleanor observed a number of young women in small groups with a professionally dressed man. Some of them were doing meditation exercises, but others looked like some kind of therapy session or whatever. Hippie dippy stuff. So far, everything seemed normal.

Eleanor was quietly watching a group therapy session where a young woman began crying as she admitted to her issues with authority when she heard a voice come up behind her. “Miss Hearten, I am so happy you could join us,” the cheerful, calm, voice announced. “My name is Kimberly Andrews. I am surprised we never met, but here we are now.”

The reporter looked the new Mrs. Andrews up and down. She was dressed in a slightly too short for a professional setting skirt, a sleeveless sweater, which showed off exactly what it was made to show off, black pumps, and stockings. Her expression was pleasant, but the Korean woman’s eyes seemed a bit distant and empty. She had really bought into the happy trophy wife thing it seemed.

Well, some version of that was true, I guess.

The crying young woman was now screaming at the man running her group. She stood up as he approached and slapped him across the face. “You mother fucker! I hate you! This place is bullshit.” A security officer, as muscular and pretty as Bella had been, grabbed the angry woman and pulled her away. After a moment, the group resumed their discussion.

“Kathryn has been a real problem so far,” Kimberly commented after a moment. “She is here, like many of these young women, due to problems with the law. Drugs, stealing, and she feel in with a gang. Hopefully she can get help here. We are so new and have so many women to assist.”

“Where does she go? They took her away rather abruptly.” Eleanor was surprised by the assertive nature of the guard. Were not these kind of places normally a bit more liberal and hands off?

Kimberly slowly shook her head. “This is Kathryn’s third infraction. She snuck a knife into the Foundation. She mouthed off at me a few days ago. What was it she called me? ‘A fucking bimbo.’” She paused and then grinned as Eleanor could not hide her agreement with that assessment in her facial expression. She would understand soon enough.

“This is her third infraction,” Kimberly continued, “which means she will be kept out of our general population and given therapy sessions alone. She is actually our first one, unfortunately, to reach that stage.” She paused for a second. “In some ways, this will prove interesting to see if she can be rehabilitated.”

“What if she cannot be rehabbed?” Eleanor could already see the angle for her story. That rude bitch, Kathryn was her name, was not going to change.

Kimberly smiled softly and motioned for Miss Hearten to follow her. “We will rehabilitate her.” They walked over to an elevator and entered it. “I have faith that the techniques we use will make her a productive member of society. She will go through intensive counseling now. Really our first. I will have to introduce you to our counselor later.”

The elevator pinged to announce their arrival on their destination floor and both women exited with Kimberly in the lead. They went down a corridor and reached a series of rooms where young women were being examined by doctors and nurses. Eleanor did notice the nurses’ scrubs were a bit snug looking, but did not want to seem judgmental of how another woman dresses.

Kimberly stopped at a glass window that was clearly a two way. “Our new intakes are given a full medical exam including blood work, sweeps for genetic issues, and frank discussions of previously sexual activity and drug use. We need to know all of this so they can receive the best treatment possible.” They watched a pretty blonde nurse sit and talk to a Hispanic woman. It was clear they were discussing sexual issues as they alternated between seriousness and giggles.

Eleanor stared at them. “Have any of your clients been very resistant so far? Kind of like Kathryn earlier?”

Kimberly nodded. “Yes. We had one yesterday become rather belligerent when her drug use came up. The report said she had bad scarring...” She trailed off in an attempt to performatively show sadness and empathy, as Master had programmed her to do for today. “That young lady was sent to a special counselor, who you will meet in awhile, to get the help she needs.”

Eleanor continued her inquiry. “Will Kathryn be sent there?

“Yes,” Kimberly confirmed, “Kathryn is likely already there. There is a special room to give unruly patients a bit of a time out until they agree to treatment. That can be a very...private...experience, so I hope you’ll accept my apology that we cannot go there. I would love for you to return to see Miss Jennings at her best, not at her lowest point.”

Eleanor nodded. “I could do a followup story about her at some point. Mention Kathryn in this article and then do a feature later. Our readership loves that kind of thing.”

Kimberly smiled politely. “Of course, Miss Hearten. A popular article promotes us as well.”

They continued to another room. Again, a two way mirror was placed next to it. Inside the room, they observed a gorgeous brunette leading a room of women in some kind of meditative exercise. Because Eleanor could only see the backs of their calm, tranquil, faces, she could not observe that each of them was chipped and only here in a performative sense for her tour. After they left, each would return to their programming stage as they further moved towards absolute enslavement.

“Mediation helps focus the mind and sharpen it against negativity. It’s something I had to learn myself,” Kimberly noted after a moment. “I was so out of control. Negativity made me so angry.”

Eleanor listened to her speak before responding. “I don’t agree with some of the things you have said, but I respect your choice and happiness.” It was always “choices” with these people. That was just a passive aggressive way for the career focused reporter to say “I think you are a bimbo, you moron.”

In another corridor, they found a few more rooms and more windows. Kimberly stopped at the window and gasped in delight. “Oh, this is lovely,” she said with programmed excitement. “That is,” she said, pointing with a white tipped nail, “the woman I was telling you about. The one who was belligerent when discussing her drug problems.” They watched the pretty young woman break down crying while confessing to her habits, a few crimes, and implications of abuse. In reality, the young lady had been taken to the same treatment room that Kathryn was in right now and chipped immediately. Her “confession” right now was that of a programmed puppet.

“I’ve seen this before. We did a report last year on a gang that pimped out the women. They denied it all at first, but once you got them into a room one on one, they began telling us everything. The pimps got arrested and they all got help and counseling.” Eleanor nodded her approval at seeing improvement in someone. Maybe this foundation could help the city? The city’s counseling center was overburdened. Perhaps this could be a great place to send the overflow? An op-ed about this issue would certainly get a lot of clicks too. Her editor would love it!

They watched the woman’s emulated emotions. Her tears were synthetic, a programmed response, but came off as fairly sincere. Think about it: What is the right way to cry? People claim someone is “faking it,” but how do they know?

“I’d like to interview her at some point, if that is possible. Maybe in a follow up article?” Kimberly smiled with approval. Eleanor was falling for it so far. Master would be so happy!!!

Their next stop was a suite of what clearly was medical offices. A pretty nurse waved them in and Kimberly lead Eleanor over to another two way mirror. Inside the room a handsome doctor was speaking with a woman. He pointed at the unsavory looking tattoo on her arm.

“One of the services we are offering,” Kimberly pointed out, “is cosmetic surgery. We are heavily stressing tattoo removal. Young women are often pressured by society to get them done and they end up hindering their ability to get appropriate jobs and allow people to make assumptions about them that are often sexist or demeaning.” The woman sitting in the room seemed to be acquiescing to the removal. This was, again, a staged event. She had been chipped three days before and had no purpose but mindless obedience.

Eleanor touched her arm. She had a tattoo that was a little bit of a regret. The focus on removal was certainly understandable. “What else do you do?”

Kimberly smiled the happy smile of the bimbo she had been programmed to be by Master. “We will eventually offer whatever is needed by our clients. It starts with tattoo removal, but next it could be something more cosmetic. We are also preparing to do medical surgeries too. There are already clients here who have injuries from their criminal lives that require surgical repair.”

This was true: The programmed young woman currently being told to remove her tattoo also had a shoulder injury which was very likely accrued during some kind of gang activity. The doctor speaking to her, who would be handsomely paid in her eternal service at some future point, had noted in a staff meeting that this happened regularly in his previous life as the director of emergency services for a hospital. He had been one of the first doctors recruited after the man quietly left that hospital before a sexual harassment accusation could be made public. Marcus had made sure, via chipped force, that the woman forgot it even happened.

Eleanor was shocked by both of her statements. How expansive did they plan to be? “Could a regular hospital be teamed up with to do that? The way universities pair with hospitals to do mental health counseling?”

Kimberly paused for a few seconds while her chip downloaded new information. “For privacy purposes, we would like to do everything in house. Yes, it’s better for these young women who have been through so much...they need privacy to be able to reclaim their lives.” She blinked. “I bet a few of them would love to have you by their side to tell their story! They can come back into public life and get attention that will lead to a job and a large amount of clicks for your website.”

Eleanor smiled. Now Kimberly was speaking her language. “I will make a note of that.”

They had reached the end of a long hall, so Kimberly led Eleanor to en elevator which took them to another floor. They exited it and were directly opposite a large suite with bright pink walls. A handful of women were sitting in chairs. Eleanor quickly realized that this was some kind of salon. One of the women was having her nails done!

“This is our salon, it just opened yesterday.” Kimberly waved a manicured hand in its general direction as they walked in. “Part of improving yourself is mental, some of it is psychical. We have a gym that will be open soon too. It may seem superficial, but another aspect of wellness that will allow our clients to be their best is appearance based. We offer free salon treatments. Hair, nails, clothing advice, whatever they want from us. We have a great staff that will aide them.”

Eleanor was just noticing that staff. Each woman cutting hair or doing a manicure was extraordinarily beautiful. Tanned, fit, highly feminine, and dressed in very similar skirts, high heels, and t-shirts advertising the foundation. The reporter knew she was attractive, all that gym time had to have been for something, but these women had perfected feminine beauty just like Kimberly had done.

“These clients have all chosen to take you up on that offer?”

Kimberly nodded. “Yes, they are all looking forward to lives outside the foundation and quickly embraced our programs.” If by “quickly embraced our programs” you mean “chipped and reprogrammed for feminine enslavement and eventual sale,” then, sure, that was an accurate statement.

Eleanor stared at the one getting her nails done. She did not really seem like the acrylic nail type. “What if they chose not to do such things?”

Kimberly smiled vapidly. “That is always fine. We want to help our clients make appropriate decisions to aide their improvement and recovery from poor behaviors. Studies do show, however, that looking your best greatly aides women. I certainly can speak to that.” She paused.” My husband has really helped me to become more confident.” If by “confident” you mean brain chipped bimbo without a thought of her own, sure, yes.

The beautiful Korean bimbo looked up at a digital clock. “Oh, we have spent so many hours doing this tour. We should go back to my office. I have something you need to see there that will greatly assist you in your article.”

Eleanor sighed and nodded. She had been there for awhile. After dinner, a lot of the article could be outlined from her notes. Whatever Kimberly had to show her probably would help as well.

It took awhile to make their way back across the foundation campus. Eleanor had to note just how massive it really was in size. A really incredible accomplishment for sure. They stopped a few times to speak to various workers and a doctor, who said they had made a lot of progress with the young woman Kathryn they had met earlier in the day. The reporter missed the conspiratorial smile Kimberly shared with the doctor.

A pretty secretary sat outside of Kimberly’s office. She looked up vapidly and smiled. “Mrs. Andrews, the package arrived a little while ago.” She nodded at the secretary, a former homeless woman her incredible Master had taken off the streets, cleaned up, and given a job. The bidding for ownership of her was very demanding at the moment.

Kimberly opened the door to the office and they found a young woman sitting there. She was an exceptionally attractive blonde with perfect makeup and a docile smile. The young woman was dressed in an extremely tight shirt promoting the foundation alongside spandex shorts and clear platform heels.

Eleanor took a few steps in and then stopped. Kimberly came around and leaned down to hug the young woman. “I am so proud of you. You are taking positive steps.”

“Thank you Mrs. Andrews. I apologize for my outbursts earlier. I want to learn to be my best at the foundation. I want to be a good girl like you.” The former Kathryn, now wearing an ID that said “Katie” with a silly looking heart over the “i,” turned and vapidly smiled at Eleanor.

The reporter stared at her in shock. This surely was not the same young woman from this morning! Why the hell was she dressed like this? “What is going on? Was this all staged for me? Is she an actor?”

Katie grinned proudly. “Sort of,” she began as Kimberly came around the desk to hold Eleanor in place. “I am an emulation of Kathryn. Kathryn was such a bad girl that Mrs. Andrews erased her. Katie is a good girl.” The formerly unruly blonde picked up the small box off the desk of Master’s slave, opened it, and jammed the chip against Eleanor’s neck. In a moment, she snapped to attention as new programming flooded her mind.

* * *

About a week went by after Eleanor was chipped. Initially, once her programming was installed. Kimmie had her take the rest of the week off using the argument that she had an amazing story to tell that would be get a lot of advertising dollars and clicks. She needed time to write it. Her boss gave permission, but told the reporter to check in once a day with a draft. An AI had been set up to take care of that problem while the soon to be former reporter was reprogrammed for the foundation’s needs.

The woman who stood at attention on a podium besides Kimmie’s desk had certain gone through quite the transformation. Now that one reporter had been let in, the foundation put out a press release asking for more privacy for their clients. They cited a number of laws that, arguably, required this in a legal sense. With the public out of sight, there was no need for the silly “Kimberly” stuff. Kimmie was proud to put on her collar for the day to take her new friend around for a new and improved tour of the campus.

Ellie stood there staring blankly forward. The former reporter, the AI would be sending in a resignation letter a few days after the article praising the incredible services the foundation offers was published, had been transformed into the All American Bimbo look that the clients Marcus was already taking on seemed to love so much. Her breasts had been severely augmented, her mouth made into a pouty, full, O, and any and all body hair below the shoulders permanently removed. A fitness routine had been programmed into her that would give her the toned look men enjoyed these days.

These psychical improvements were highlighted by the uniform she wore which conformed t the foundation’s dress code. The same shirt, in a different color, Katie had been wearing, which promoted an upcoming 5K the foundation was supporting, hugged her bust. Spandex shorts showed off her backside, which was already improving in training, and platform heels accentuated the entire package. Pink tipped nails adorned her hands and her face was heavily made up. Obnoxious hoop earrings hung from her ears. She was absolutely beautiful.

Kimmie looked around and was satisfied it was time to begin Ellie’s new tour. Master had been insistent in the morning, after she swallowed his cum, that it was important Ellie was given a good tour of the foundation. Reporters, especially women, were dangerous to the foundation. She needed to see the wonderful work that they did. Every woman needed to be chipped so they could understand their purpose was serving men. It was so clear once the programming took hold. Kimberly had been so sad and rude. Kimmie was happy, optimistic, and pleasing. The world would be a lot better if every woman was like her.

The Korean bimbo swayed over to the wall, but not before looking out at the new darkened windows that had been added for “privacy” of the clients. Plus they could all walk around collared and half naked. She tapped a few buttons with her long white tipped nails and toggled through to Ellie’s settings, which she then activated. By the time the dark haired woman turned around, her new friend was coming back online.

Ellie blinked rapidly, looked around, and stepped off the podium. “Hello, Mrs. Andrews. I am so happy your husband gave me permission to come to the foundation today. The bimbos hugged. The dry attitude of Eleanor was gone. Ellie was happy and compliant and glad to be with her new friend.

“Mr. Andrews wanted you to get a good luck at the work we are doing at the foundation. He hopes you will write a positive article.” Kimmie stared at her friend’s pouty mouth. Hopefully they could kneel before Master and take turns sucking his cock at one point.

Ellie took Kimmie’s hand and they walked together towards the entrance to the main counseling center. Before it stood the security officer from before plus a doctor. He said something to Kimmie, who nodded and turned to Ellie. “We have to be leashed before we go inside. It’s for our safety in case a client acts up.”

Before she could even react, the handsome man snapped the leash into her collar and gave Ellie a playful tug, which got a giggle out of her. Kimmie held up her leash and her new friend, getting the idea, held hers up too and they walked together holding each other’s leash. If a client got out of control, they could protect each other until a man arrived!

The first place they arrived was the counseling center. There was a man, a former teacher in fact, at the head of the room, but next to him was Katie, who was helping to lead the discussion with their new, recently chipped, clients, who listened to her speak passionately about the need to change their behaviors, improve their mental and psychical wellness, and obey the wonderful people who ran the foundation. The vapid bimbo was dressed in an outfit that match Ellie’s, but with clear pink platform heels instead of black.

“Katie came here a few weeks ago,” Kimmie began, “She was violent and out of control. We give new clients three chances to improve poor behavior before they are sent to individual counseling. Sadly, she had her third violation in a counseling session just like this one.” They watched for a moment. Katie was speaking to her own realizations about the emotional need for women to find a man to obey.

Ellie stared at the pretty woman. She also wore a collar and leash. “You must be really proud of her.” Her first impression of the foundation was that it did incredible work for struggling young women!

Kimmie smiled proudly. “I am. We are. She was so troubled upon arrival. Drugs, crime...we got her to admit her boyfriend abused her. He was one of those political activist types. Manipulated her.” They watched her speak individual to a client. “But now she is a good girl. We are working on trying to find her work with a politician. Most of the time when women leave organizations like ours, they are dumped into a half way home or a given a minimum wage job. We want to do something better than that.”

In reality, Katie was being programmed for the local senator who was looking for a bit of an upgrade on his uppity wife. Katie could be a great role model for his rebellious college aged daughter too, but if she rejected such an education, Marcus had promised she could be queued up for chipping. In return, the senator had vowed to pass legislation to push forward any obstacles to Marcus’ progress and the profits of his company.

Next they stopped by the nursing center again. Dr. Bedford, now fully employed by the foundation, and paid handsomely in blondes, could be seen speaking to two nurses. Since Ellie was now chipped and rather compliant, each nurse wore their standard uniform, which was green, blue, or white latex, depending on the nurse’s duty that day, that somewhat recreated a traditional nursing uniform from the days before “scrubs” became a thing. The platform heels were not really part of that tradition, but oh well. They did wear stockings! Hey, that is traditional!

Dr. Bedford came over to the women, who both automatically curtsied low for such a superior male. “Hello, Sir,” both women said in unison. Both Kimmie and Dr. Bedford looked over at Ellie to see if she resisted her programming in this regard and nodded upon confirmation that she did not at all.

“Ladies, wonderful time to visit. We are busy, but I always have a few minutes for such a pretty young lady like yourself.” The good doctor paused at Ellie’s blush as she stood up from the curtsy.

“Thank you, Sir,” Ellie said quietly. The normally confident reporter’s personality had been replaced with tranquil docility and feminine appreciation for the praise of a man.

There were a number of clients in various rooms in the nursing center. Dr. Bedford waved his hand towards the entire center. “We currently have nine clients in various rooms. Three are in cosmetic surgeries. They want to look their best like you two beautiful women.

Both women giggled. Ellie loved having a handsome man compliment her. A doctor no less! She did not see any ring on his finger and gave him a flirty smile.

“Dr. Bedford, Miss Hearten is here for a tour of the facilities. Since the nursing center is very productive right now, I would it would be a good place to go early in the tour.” Kimmie found it so odd to speak in the first person, but her programming required it, so she did. Women were property and objects; they did not deserve such honorific treatment unless their owner approved it.

“Of course,” he said, taking their leash in his hand and giving them a light tug, The enslaved women followed a few steps behind him along with his personal assistant, a redhead named Cammie. They stopped at his desk where he was going to pick up a tablet to show them a three-dimensional presentation, but then a familiar face came into the center.

“Hello again, Mrs. Andrews and Miss Hearten!” Katie’s happy voice could be heard from the entrance of the center. She walked over as quickly as the ballet heels on her feet allowed and handed the leash attached to her collar to Dr. Bedford.

“Ah,” he began, “great timing. I swear we didn’t stage this.”

Katie blushed. “I’m sorry Dr. Bedford, Sir, but I was held up after the counseling session this morning. A few clients wanted to speak to me in private and I was happy to listen to their concerns.”

This was actually code for “a few unchipped young women looked like they would be a problem, so I helped trick them into a side room where both of them are currently being reprogrammed into dutiful bimbos that will be immediately sold off at auction.”

Dr. Bedford nodded. “Good girl. You are a fine example for every client.”

Kimmie agreed. “Yes, Miss Adams, you are a model client. Your example will be shown to others in the future.”

Ellie smiled happily. She was so glad to see the young woman again. They would have to do an interview later! “Ka—...um, Miss Adams, are you okay? Why did you come to the nursing center?” A look of concern replaced the vapid pleasantness mirrored in her eyes.

Katie looked over at Dr. Bedford, who nodded his approval for her to speak freely. “Well, um, I scheduled an appointment to get my tattoo removed.” She shamefully put our her arm, which had a graphic which could only be described as the combination between a skull and an angel. A boyfriend had told her to get it, which she immediately regretted but was stuck with until now.

Kimmie was the first to comment. “Oh, it’s okay Miss Adams. I had to have one removed too. Mr. Andrews insisted on it before the wedding.”

Ellie blushed and looked away. She had a few tattoos. Peer pressure in college had led to her getting them. Should they be removed too?

Dr. Bedford put a protective hand on Katie’s arm. “Well, sweetie, you should follow Cammie to surgical room 7 and that can be taken care of today. You’ll be under an anesthetic for a bit and then there will be some down time for a few days to recover.” This was not really needed, but would be used as time for Katie to be further reprogrammed for a future owner. None of the three very suggestible, and gullible, young women around him questioned any of this. Ellie, still considered a “reporter” nodded along at the smart man’s remarks. He obviously knew best!

Katie gave them a manicured wave and walked with Cammie to her assigned room so that pesky tattoo could be removed. Dr. Bedford watched her firm backside swayed away and then turned back to his lovely companions. “Kimmie, you were one of the first women to take advantage of the nursing center.”

“Yes, Dr. Bedford, Sir,” she affirmed while turning to Ellie, “I had my breast augmentation surgery here and a few other cosmetic issues corrected.” She mouthed “I’ll tell you later,” which got another joyful giggle out of Ellie.

Ellie stared at her beautiful friend’s enormous chest. Her own E cups were pretty big, but could they be bigger? She breathed slowly and leaned towards Dr. Bedford, who did not really notice. After all, when you were surrounded all day by women like Katie, Kimmie, and Cammie, big breasts really are not a big deal anymore.

“...continue on your tour, Miss Hearten?” Ellie blinked a few times and gasped at Dr. Bedford’s tug on her leash. She looked at him in horror as pangs of anxiety filled her body at the idea of displeasing the handsome man.

“Ellie,” Kimmie said quietly as she ran a manicured hand up and down the reporter’s arm, “when a man is speaking, you need to be focused and ready to obey.”

Ellie blinked a few times. “When a man speaks, I am focused and ready to obey.” Seemed so obvious once Kimmie said it out loud! She faced Dr. Bedford and looked for guidance.

“Good girl.” He gave her leash another playful tug. He loved doing that. I love writing that. I love imagining it being done to me.

Anyway.

“As I was saying, Since Cammie is in with Miss Adams, I need to begin a client intake for another young woman. She realized yesterday that her breasts are too small! A lot of that going around here lately,” he ended with a shrug and wink at the ladies.

“Come on,” Kimmie said, taking Ellie’s hand, “I have a lot more to show you.” They left the nursing center while conspiratorially laughing and whispering to each other about how charming Dr. Bedford was. Again, he shrugged and walked over to exam room 2, where a pretty young lady, who the foundation had rescued from the streets, immediately began telling him about the key to solving all of her problems was having larger breasts. “As big as possible,” she declared. He smiled, sat down in the chair across from her, and began to explain the process plus a few other ideas for surgical changes the silly young women would immediately take on as truths.

* * *

Kimmie and Ellie next made their way to the salon they had previously visited. The same beautiful, tanned, women were giving facials, manicures, and hair cuts, but this time Ellie was interested in them herself. Her own pink tipped nails were fine for today, but maybe she could visit again another time?

Kimmie took her hand and walked the soon to be former reporter over to a young woman who was currently having her hair dyed. The future platinum blonde was staring straight ahead while two salon workers, in matching mini dresses, fussed over her. The woman’s collar read Jaymie with the same silly heart over the ‘i” that Kimmie’s collar had as well. Ellie thought it was remarkable that the woman was so focused while bettering her appearance. The gullible woman’s simplified mind did not understand that she had been brainwashed. However, something even more important needed to be discussed.

“This woman here,” Kimmie said with significant pride in her voice, “is Jaymie.” She is here because it turned out that all her good grades in college were due to cheating. When she was found out, unfortunately Miss Collingswood had a bit of a mental breakdown.” Ellie’s frown made Kimmie sad, but there was good news! “There is good news though. Miss Collingswood is a friend of my husband! They dated many years ago.”

Kimmie took a few steps away so a salon worker could continue their work. “Upon finding about her plight, my husband very graciously offered to take her in here and figure out if we could help. Jaymie immediately confessed to her crimes and accepted that she needed help. Her career in business is over, of course, her degrees have been voided, but she can be reformed.” Kimmie stared at the pretty woman for a moment. Master had such good taste! “I am not sure what will be next for her.”

Ellie nodded along. “Your foundation does such amazing work. In the past, a college cheater like her, especially a woman, would be disgraced forever. Now at least she has some kind of chance to have a future.”

Well, in what should come as no surprise, this was only sort of true. Marcus had dated Jaymie when they were younger, but she had dumped him with a declaration that she was going to make something of herself and that he was...not. Seems like she was wrong! While Kimmie was being processed Marcus had been busy trying to track down former girlfriends.

If they were living a happy, fulfilling, life, he decided to leave them alone. However, Jaymie was one of those business people that put on a front that she cared about the community, but it was all just for tax breaks and a means of gaining influence with the higher echelons of society, which were mostly men and a bit pigheaded about the women they allowed in their company. She screwed over people left and right and even, get this, thought of it as empowering as a woman!

Well, Jaymie would not be doing anymore thinking. Creating a fake scandal was a fairly straight forward process it turned out. She had cheated on a few essays, so having one of his drones discover that and then turn it into a bigger scandal was easy. Her fall got a lot of clicks for apps, so they did not really do a fact check.

This brought her to Kimmie. Marcus fed his bimbo wife a story about how Jaymie was a constant cheater and that she needed significant rehabilitation. The problem, he had mused to her, was that she was always thinking too much. Too much independent thought, or any at all, was bad for women, surely, and she needed to have her little feminine brained slowed down to a complete crawl.

Kimmie and the fine workers at the foundation took it from there. In private, she received a neuro-chip that essentially wiped her independence thinking ability out and made the former businesswoman a mindless automaton that existed only to obey Marcus, her Master.

Her salon treatment was to continue her transformation into a bimbo lovedoll. The blonde hair was his idea, as was the long pink nails, and hairless body below the shoulders. She was also an experiment in trying to limit the need for food or other kinds of nourishment. She could be, if done properly, a living statue that only moved with his command. That was the idea anyway.

A bunch of very happy women were getting makeovers as well, including the unruly woman from this morning. She wished the best for Miss Collingswood and they left to return to Kimmie’s office, where Ellie’s fate would be finalized.

Kimmie’s office door was slightly ajar. She entered it with Ellie following a few seconds later. Inside the office they found Marcus, who was sitting in his wife’s chair with a confident grin on his face. Behind him, to Ellie’s surprise, was her friend Jennifer, but the woman had changed a lot.

Jennifer, now “Jenni,” stood at attention wearing a very skimpy latex maid uniform. Pink stockings and white high heels adorned her legs and feet. A blank expression mirrored the emptiness of her mind. Marcus’ chip had vacuumed out the silly woman’s thoughts and replaced them with mindless devotion to him and his will. She had no views, thoughts, or needs outside of service to him.

“Jen?” Ellie said as she stared at her friend. “Why are you here?”

Kimmie put her manicured hand on The former reporter’s hand. “Sweetie, she needed help just like you and I did. Just like Jaymie and Katie did. She got that help, thanks to my wonderful Master.”

Marcus stood up. “Don’t move.” Ellie did not, since her chip recognized Marcus as the male authority in her life. “You see, this foundation is only kind of about helping out unruly young women. It’s also about reprogramming them for service to me and other men. Like Kimmie here,” he waved a hand towards his wife. “She was a fucking bitch who was self centered and only dated me because she thought I was going to be successful. Now look at her.”

Kimmie smiled proudly at her Master. Kimberly had been such a bad girl, but Kimmie was a good girl now.

Marcus shrugged. “Whatever. I am bored.” He announced an activation code. As always, I am not going tell you their activation codes, naughty readers!

Ellie gasped. “New programming…downloading...installing...installed.” She snapped to attention and came around the desk to stand next to her best friend.

He stared at the enslaved report. “Ellie, what is your purpose?”

Ellie sighed happily. “Master, Ellie exists to give you the best promotional article ever. Afterwards, you will decide her fate.” For the record, he already had decided it.

Marcus had planned this out to perfection. He had his wife, a foundation full of women to program into devoted servants of himself and others, and the enthralled reporter who was going to give it a glowing review. His ex girlfriend was currently being remade according to his whims to begin a new collection of women in his home. The women who had wronged him in life.

A moment later, there was a soft knock at Kimmie’s office door. She exchanged a look with her Master, who motioned for her to open it. On the other side of the door at Katie!

The formerly defiant woman was now quite the docile and tamed lady. The bimbo looked absolutely delightful in a plaid skirt, dark stockings, sky high heels, and a torn baseball tee. Her hair, makeup, and nails were done to perfection and really expressed the sort of bimboified submission the foundation would be churning out to its residents, whether they liked it or not.

Katie jumped into a hug with her friend Kimmie. They had gotten off to such a bad start, but vapid slave now saw the error of her ways. Kimmie was her role model, a hero, and mentor to emulate. Soon enough she would be auctioned off to a man that would make her his obedient slave. But for now, her programming dictated that she serve the man man as the beautiful Korean woman whom ran the foundation that changed her life forever.

The two reprogrammed slaves turned and faced their Master. “Come around and kneel before me, my pets,” Marcus commanded to them, which they happily obeyed. Each knelt before him and smiled happily up at their Master.

“Both of you have done very well,” Marcus began. “Kimmie, you do a wonderful job of running this foundation. You’ve given me a group of lovely ladies to do my bidding with more coming every day.” He pointed up at Ellie and Jenni. “This includes these two very silly women of course. Neither will give us any trouble anymore.”

He leaned down and petted Katie’s head, which got a happy coo from her. “Then there is you, young lady. I am very proud of the progress you made. You know, my wife came home one day very upset about you. She didn’t think you would change. You were too stubborn and defiant.” He smiled with pride, like a parent watching their child graduate college. “You showed me another side of you though. Now, you see what was wrong and know your place.”

Katie did not respond to her Master right away, but instead turned to Kimmie. “I didn’t know! I’m so sorry! I promise I am a good girl now!” She began crying and Kimmie held the young lady again.

Marcus was fascinated by her reaction. Katie, and most women really, had a natural inclination towards empathy and making others happy. It was why they should submit to men in all things, really. She cared so much about pleasing in general, but likely used to defiant behaviors as a means of lashing out against it. Now, the chip turned it all on and made her deeply nurturing. An idea crossed his mind.

* * *

Weeks later, Marcus stood in the back of the auction room in the basement of the foundation. A group of buyers were watching Katie go through a series of commands via the remote control in his wife’s hand on the stage. Both women wore watching pink maid uniforms, with white stockings and sky high pumps.

At the moment, Katie, now an obedient bimbo dove, was fellating a chipped male who had been brought into during a gang sweep and turned into a mindless drone used to demonstrate the sexual skills. The blonde haired slave’s head bobbed up and down on the drone’s cock and her soft, feminine hands, stroked his balls with long white tipped nails. Eventually, Kimmie tapped her own long nail against a button on the remote, which cause the mindless male to cum, which Katie enthusiastically swallowed down.

Katie, cum dripping down her face and neck, waited a moment while the drone’s cock got harder again after another button push by her friend and mentor Kimmie. She cooed with delight as it got stiffer and longer right before her eyes.

Marcus idly watched the buyers from the back. Her soft feminine hands stroked the drone, occasionally kissing the cock tip, with an obvious end game approaching. Some buyers were on the edge of their seats. Others were a bit more dispassionate, obviously disinterested in the formerly unruly young woman for whatever reason. One kept petting the hair of the former gang member, turned doll titted bimbo, collared and leashed at his feet he had purchased earlier in the evening.

Soon enough, Katie’s face and hair were flooded with cum, which she took with feminine delight. After Kimmie helped her clean up, and the male drone was escorted off the stage by a security officer, but not before the one woman in the buyer audience gestured back to Marcus that she wanted to put a bid in for the walking hard on, bidding began for Katie. He gave woman seeking to purchase the male drone a thumbs up and made a mental note to check in at the end of the night.

Bidding began fast and furiously as three men tried to outbid each other for the lovely young lady. Finally, a lull came over the audience as the winning bid was confirmed by Kimmie. The life went out of Katie’s eyes as she roboticly stepped off the stage and swayed over to her new owner.

“Master,” she said in a spellbound, dreamy, voice, “Katie is your property. Please program her for your needs.” She snapped to attention. He said some pleasantries and then motioned to Marcus that his needs were already submitted. Katie was going to be Daddy’s naughty housewife slut fantasy for the rest of the aging business CEO’s life. The man’s current wife would be dumped off at the foundation, reprogrammed to be agreeable to a divorce, and then sold off at an auction just like this one.

At the end of the night, after many conversations with those whose bids did not win, Marcus was able to convince them that another auction would happen in two weeks with a fresh batch of obedient women eager for their command. Security was alerted to monitor one of the men, who was a bit too excited for his own good.

Marcus and Kimmie had their driver take them home. Kimmie hung onto her Master tightly. She was so happy to have another batch of graduates from the academy be purchased by buyers. She would miss Katie, but new friends could be made.

Back at home, they found Kimmie’s friend completing her maid duties for the evening before powering down in the closet with the rest of the cleaning supplies. They came to stand in front of the newest acquisition, both in a psychical and human sense, to their home.

Jaymie stood at attention in a wall sized glass case. Her body had been transformed into the feminine ideal of doll tits, pouty cock sucking mouth, and hairless torso. She wore a maid uniform complete with duster in hand. Her eyes were empty and blank, as Marcus’ former girlfriend would remain until he activated her, which he had not yet done. At some point, it would become amusing to do so. Occasionally, his thoughts drifted towards putting Jenni or Kimmie up there as well. A lot of women were better off as displayed property than as humans. It was all just one neuro-chip away.

* * *

A few months later Katie hummed away happily at the new Mrs. Anderson. Her husband and Master was working so hard at his job, so she made sure the house was spotless and her body was ready and eager for his use each evening when he returned home. This had worked fine, but now his daughter Samantha had come home with all these ideas from college about having a career and not just being married off as a happy trophy wife like her step mother. It made Katie really sad.

Samantha came back from the gym. She was a cute brunette who could be a lovely piece of arm candy, but she hid her naturally athletic body behind sweatshirt and other silliness. The unruly woman dropped her gym bag and pulled earbuds out of her ears. Her frown at seeing Katie, dressed in a tight dress and high heels, was pronounced.

“Samantha! I am so glad I saw you today!” Katie’s neuro-chip had actually been tracking her step daughter via an app on the college student’s phone. “Mr. Jennings’ son is upset you did not return his phone call. He wants to take you to a charity event on Thursday evening. He is very handsome.” She smiled brightly. “He would make a great husband.”

Samantha rolled her eyes. “Whatever, I don’t want to end up some bimbo popping out babies every year so my husband looks like he has ‘family values’ or whatever. I’m actually going to college so I can have a career and not rely on a man.”

Katie looked at her with concern. “Finding a good man will be helpful though. He can help with your career and then you can settle down once you have kids.”

Another eye roll. “I don’t want kids. I might want to get married, but not now. I’m not going out with one of dad’s creepy friends kid.”

Now Katie frowned. “Mr. Jennings’ child is a fine young man. He will inherit the company one day. You’d be set for life. College is giving you really negative ideas.”

“I love my classes,” Samantha began with a scowl. “You’re not even my real mom. You’re literally younger than me.”

Katie stared at the young woman. She furrowed her brow and walked over as quickly as her sky high heels allowed to punch Samantha in the face. As her step daughter yelled WHAT THE FUCK, her bimbo step mom grabbed a chip out of a small box on the counter and jammed it on her neck after another punch.

Samantha, blood coming out of her nose, a welt forming on her face, froze in place as new programming began to take over her body and mind. She would be sent to the foundation after realizing college was exhausting her. The cure, of course, was full bimbofication and a happy life as a vapid baby machine for her future Master. Katie went back to humming happily as her neuro-chip sent a message to Master that all had gone according to plan.

The End

* * *

COMMISSION: This story is dedicated to the wonderful person who commissioned the story! You can find out about commissioning a story by viewing this page. You can also support my writing, see my website for more information, and receive rewards for doing so!

* * *

If you enjoyed this story please consider reading my author’s note for it, which can be found here. You can view my website.

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