Two weeks had passed since Nathan had walked through his own front door to find Bethany frenzied and desperate, since she'd given him permission - no, begged him - to fuck his ex-girlfriend. Since then, he hadn't seen Phoebe in person, but his phone had become a constant stream of temptation. Photos of her at the gym, her body sheened with sweat. Texts about how she couldn't stop thinking about their dinner, about the kiss, about what might have happened if he'd followed her back inside the restaurant. Late night messages that started with "I know shouldn't send this..." and ended with images of her fingers inside her panties, her blonde hair spread across a pillow that wasn't his.

He showed Bethany all of them.

She'd become insatiable in a different way now, obsessed with the digital ghost of the woman she was encouraging her boyfriend to fuck. They'd be watching television and Bethany would snuggle up to him, pull out his phone, and ask to see what Phoebe had sent that day. She'd scroll through the messages with one hand while the other crept between her legs, her breathing getting shallow as she studied the other woman's body, the explicit promises, the history that Nathan and Phoebe shared.

Tonight, they were fucking on the living room floor. Bethany had been particularly aggressive, pushing him down onto the rug and climbing on top, her movements sharp and demanding. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts, nothing underneath, and she'd already soaked through the fabric where she'd been grinding against him.

"Say it," she whispered, her nails digging into his chest, her hips rolling in tight circles that made his vision blur. "Say her name."

Nathan knew what she wanted. The programming had been working overtime, and Bethany had developed a specific kink around this particular humiliation, this particular fantasy. "Phoebe," he groaned, letting his head fall back as Bethany sank down onto him. "Fuck, Phoebe, you feel so good."

Bethany shuddered, her pussy clenching around him at the sound of the name. "Again," she demanded, bouncing harder, her tits swaying under the cotton shirt. "Tell me I'm her. Tell me I'm the blonde slut you never stopped wanting."

"You're Phoebe," Nathan said, gripping her hips, thrusting up into her. "You're my blonde whore. I've been thinking about your tight cunt for years."

Every time he said the name, Bethany got hotter, wetter, more frantic. Her eyes would glaze over and her movements would become less controlled, as if the word itself was a trigger that unlocked some deeper level of arousal in her programmed mind. She was competing with a phantom, trying to fuck him better than the memory of his ex, and the desperation was making her wild.

"Did you text her today?" Bethany panted, her fingers finding her clit, rubbing furiously as she rode him. "Did you tell her you want to fuck her?"

"Yes," Nathan groaned, the truth making his cock throb. "I told her I want to bend her over and fill her with my cum."

"Good," Bethany moaned, her orgasm building fast and hard. "Good, you should. You should fuck her. Call me Phoebe when you cum."

"Phoebe!" Nathan shouted as he spilled inside her, his hips jerking, his hands pulling her down hard to take every pulse.

Bethany came with a scream that was almost a sob, her body shaking, her pussy milking him with rhythmic contractions. She collapsed forward, her hair sticking to her sweaty face, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I love you," she whispered, but her eyes were unfocused, somewhere else. "I love you, Nate."

"I love you too, Beth," he said, stroking her back, feeling her heartbeat against his chest.

She pulled back slightly, her expression suddenly sharp. "I'm Beth," she said, a flicker of confusion crossing her face. "When we're fucking, I'm Phoebe. But after... I'm Beth. Your Bethany."

"Always," he promised, kissing her forehead, wondering what was going on inside her head.

The next afternoon, Phoebe sent the nude.

It wasn't posed or filtered. She was standing in front of a mirror, her phone held high, capturing her full body. Her blonde hair fell over one shoulder, partially obscuring one breast, but the other was fully visible, her nipple hard and pink. Her stomach was flat, leading down to a neatly trimmed strip of blonde hair, and her legs were slightly parted, showing just a hint of her slit. The message that accompanied it simply read: "Thinking about you inside me."

Nathan was on the couch when the text came through. Bethany was in the kitchen making coffee, humming along to the music that played constantly from the speakers. He stared at the image, his cock immediately hardening in his jeans, and didn't hear Bethany approach until she was standing right beside him.

"Is that from her?" she asked, her voice casual but her eyes hungry.

Nathan turned the phone toward her without speaking.

Bethany took it from his hand, her fingers trembling slightly. She zoomed in on Phoebe's breasts, then scrolled down to study her pussy. Her breath hitched. "She's beautiful," Bethany whispered, and Nathan could see her nipples hardening under her tank top. "She's so fucking beautiful."

She kept staring, her thumb tracing over the screen, over Phoebe's naked body. Then she looked at Nathan with dark, desperate eyes. "Can I have it? Can you send it to me? I want to... I want to keep it."

Nathan took the phone back, forwarded the image to Bethany's number, and watched as her phone buzzed on the kitchen counter. Bethany practically ran to get it, her eyes glued to the screen as she opened the message and saved the photo.

That night, Nathan woke up at 2 AM to find the bed empty. He could hear soft sounds coming from the living room: whimpers, gasps, the wet sound of fingers moving fast. He padded out quietly and stood in the doorway, watching.

Bethany was on the couch, completely naked, her legs spread wide, one hand working her clit while the other held her phone above her face. Phoebe's nude was illuminated on the screen, casting a blue glow over Bethany's flushed features. She was whispering to herself, filthy things, things Nathan had programmed into her but that she'd made her own.

"Look at her," Bethany breathed, her hips bucking against her hand. "Look at her perfect body. Look at the cunt he wants to fuck. Look at the tits he used to suck..."

She was masturbating to his ex-girlfriend's naked body, getting off on the thought of him wanting someone else, programming herself deeper into submission with every stroke. Nathan watched until she came, her back arching off the couch, her cry muffled by her own shoulder, and then he crept back to bed before she knew he'd seen her.

The next morning, as Nathan was leaving to grab coffee, he ran into Heather from across the hall. She was a mom in her early forties, with two kids Nathan had seen occasionally in the hallway, and a husband who worked long hours. She was wearing yoga pants and a loose sweatshirt, her hair in a messy bun, holding a bag of trash.

"Hey, Nathan," she said, her voice warmer than usual. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"Hey, Heather," he said, pausing by his door. "How's it going?"

She leaned against her doorframe in a way that pushed her chest out, and Nathan realized with a start that she wasn't wearing a bra. Her nipples were visible through the thin cotton, and she made no move to hide them as she looked him up and down with a gaze that was definitely not neighborly.

"It's going," she said, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "I have to say, you and Bethany seem like you're having a lot of fun over there. The walls in this building are... thinner than you'd think."

Nathan felt a chill run down his spine, but his cock stirred at the way she was looking at him.

Hungry. Appraising.

"Yeah?"

"Oh yeah," Heather said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've been hearing some... very interesting things. Makes a lonely mommy wonder what she's missing."

She was married. She had kids. And she was absolutely, unmistakably coming onto him, her eyes fixed on his crotch, her chest thrust forward.

"I should... uh... get going," Nathan said, his mouth dry.

"Come by anytime," Heather called after him as he walked toward the stairs. "I'm usually home during the day. Kids are at school. Husband's at work. Just me and my... thoughts."

Nathan spent the whole coffee run trying to process what had happened. When he got back to his floor, keys in hand, the door to the apartment next door opened. Two college-aged girls emerged, one brunette and one redhead, both wearing tiny shorts and tank tops despite the morning chill. Nate knew they were the co-eds who'd moved in three months ago, but he'd never bothered to learn their names.

"Oh, hey!" the brunette said, her face lighting up when she saw him. "You're the neighbor guy!"

"The one always blowing his lady's back out."

"Yeah," Nathan said, blushing and stopping. "Hey."

"We've been meaning to introduce ourselves properly," the redhead said, stepping closer, her eyes bright and fixed on his. "I'm Georgia, this is Priya. And we've been... hearing you."

Nate blushed deeper. "Sorry," he muttered, wondering how many of his neighbors have been hearing them.

"Don't be!" Georgia laughed, a throaty sound. "We were wondering... if maybe you could come in sometime and give us the same treatment. We've been listening at the wall and getting so fucking wet. It sounds like you really know how to fuck a girl properly."

Priya nodded, pressing against Georgia's side, both of them looking at him like he was a meal they wanted to devour. "Pretty please?" she asked, her voice breathy. "We want to feel what she's feeling. We want you to make us scream like that."

Nathan's blood ran cold even as his cock throbbed. The music. The speakers. The subliminal messages he'd been playing constantly, the programming meant for Bethany...

If they could hear him fucking, then they could hear the music. It was bleeding through the walls, affecting the other residents. Heather across the hall, these girls next door, probably others. The apartment building was becoming saturated with his programming, and the women were responding to it, responding to him as the source.

"I... I have to go," he said, his voice rough and a little panicked. "But... maybe another time."

"Text us when you're free," Georgia said, pressing a scrap of paper into his hand with her number scrawled on it. "We'll be waiting."

"And listening," Priya finished with a wink.

Nathan stumbled back to his apartment, his mind racing. Bethany was in the shower, singing along to the music. He looked at the speakers, at the hidden port where the SD card sat, and realized he'd created something that was spreading beyond his control. But he had no idea what to do about it now.

That evening, there was a knock at the door.

Nathan opened it to find Heather standing there, wearing a loose, oversized shirt that hung off one shoulder, and based on the way her breasts moved beneath the fabric, once again absolutely no bra. Her nipples were hard and visible, pressing against the cotton, and her eyes were dark with a desperate hunger that mirrored what Nathan had seen in Bethany's eyes during the early days of programming.

"Hi," Heather said, her voice throaty. "I was just... I wanted to talk to you. About the noise."

Bethany appeared behind Nathan, wearing only a pair of panties and one of his t-shirts. She looked at Heather, then at the way Heather was staring at Nathan, and Nathan watched something shift in his girlfriend's expression. Recognition. Arousal. Competition.

"Come in," Bethany said, her voice warm and inviting. "I think we should talk."

Heather stepped inside, her eyes never leaving Nathan. "I can't stop thinking about him. About what he does to you. I want... I want to feel that. I want to share."

Bethany's eyes lit up at the word. "Sharing is good," she said, and her voice had taken on a rhythmic quality, like she was reciting something. "Sharing is natural. Sharing is hot."

"Sharing is good," Heather repeated, her eyes glazing slightly. "Sharing is natural. Sharing is hot."

Nathan watched, his heart hammering as the two woman recited the lines he'd written himself. Bethany stepped closer to the older woman. "It would be really hot to share him," Bethany whispered. "Wouldn't it? To both please him? To be his together?"

"Yes," Heather breathed. "Together."

Bethany reached out and touched Heather's face, her fingers gentle. Then she leaned in and kissed her. Heather responded immediately, her hands coming up to grip Bethany's hips, pulling her closer. They kissed deeply, tongues visible, wet and desperate, and Nathan could only stand and watch as his programmed girlfriend seduced their married neighbor using the words he'd used to program her.

"Let's get your clothes off," Bethany said, breaking the kiss and looking at Nathan with dark, wild eyes. "You want to see her, right? You want to fuck her married cunt?"

Nathan nodded, wondering when exactly in this process his quiet girlfriend had turned into whatever she was now. This foul-mouthed, wanton slut.

They pulled at each other's clothes, Bethany's shirt coming off, Heather's loose shirt being lifted over her head to reveal heavy, full breasts with large, dark nipples. They were bigger than Bethany's, mature and soft, and Heather moaned as Bethany's hands found them, kneading them roughly.

"Nathan," Bethany commanded, her voice suddenly sharp with authority. "Take off your pants."

He obeyed immediately, his cock springing free, hard and aching. The two women turned to him, Bethany guiding Heather down to her knees, and then they were both there, looking up at him with worshipful eyes, and Nathan groaned as they both began to lick him, Bethany on one side of his shaft, Heather on the other, their tongues meeting at the tip before Heather took him into her mouth and sucked with desperate hunger.

"Suck him good," Bethany said, stroking Heather's hair, encouraging her. "Show him what a desperate milf you are."

Heather moaned around his cock, the vibration making Nathan's knees weak. She was skilled, her mouth warm and wet, and she took him deep, her eyes watering, her heavy tits swaying as she bobbed her head.

Bethany pulled back and looked up at Nathan. "She has big tits," Bethany said, her hand still on Heather's head, guiding her movements. "Don't you want to fuck them? Don't you want to see your cum all over her face?"

"Fuck yes," Nathan groaned.

Bethany smiled, a dark, possessive smile. "Heather," she said, pulling the older woman off Nathan's cock with a wet pop. "Lie down. Let him fuck your tits. Take good care of him."

Heather scrambled to obey, lying back on the carpet, her breasts falling to either side of her chest. Bethany knelt beside her, pushing her breasts together to create a channel, and Nathan straddled her stomach, sliding his cock between those soft, heavy mounds.

"Fuck her tits," Bethany whispered, her eyes gleaming. "Use her. She's just a toy for us. A toy for you."

Nathan thrust, the soft flesh enveloping him, Heather's face beneath him, her mouth open, tongue out, trying to catch the tip of his cock each time it emerged from her cleavage. Bethany watched, her fingers between her legs, her eyes fixed on the sight of him using another woman.

"That's it," Bethany encouraged. "Fuck those big milf tits. She's been listening to us fuck and touching herself, haven't you, Heather?"

"Yes," Heather gasped, her eyes rolling back. "Every night. I finger myself listening to you. I want to be part of it. I want to be shared."

The words pushed Nathan over the edge. With a groan, he pulled back, stroking himself fast, and then he was cumming, thick spurts shooting across Heather's face, covering her cheeks, her lips, her chin, her heaving breasts. She moaned, her tongue darting out to taste it, her eyes glazed with submission.

"Mine," Bethany said suddenly, her voice sharp. She pushed Nathan aside and descended on Heather's face, licking the cum from her cheeks, her chin, gathering it with her tongue and feeding it back to Heather in a messy kiss. "This is mine," Bethany declared between licks. "His cum is mine. You're just borrowing it."

"Yes, Bethany," Heather breathed in a daze.

She cleaned Heather's face thoroughly, making sure she swallowed every drop, and then they kissed deeply, Bethany's possessiveness and generosity warring in the way she claimed Nathan's seed even as she shared his cock.

After Heather left, disheveled, marked, and already talking about when she could come back, Nathan sat with Bethany on the couch.

"The girls next door," he said carefully. "Georgia and Priya. They approached me today. They said they've been hearing us through the wall. They asked me to... give them the same treatment."

Bethany's eyes darkened, her breath quickening. "They want you to fuck them?"

"Yes."

"Both of them?"

"Yes."

Bethany was quiet for a moment, her hand drifting between her legs. "Next time," she said finally, her voice thick with arousal. "Next time they ask, you should do it. You should fuck them both. But text me first. Text me so I know it's happening, so I can listen at the wall while you cheat on me with them. I want to hear it. I want to hear you making them scream."

Nathan's cock stirred at the thought, and the version of Nate that would have asked if she was sure was silent. "God yes."

The next afternoon, Nathan was passing by the co-eds' door when it opened. Georgia reached out, grabbed his arm, and pulled him inside with surprising strength.

"We've been waiting," she breathed, pressing against him. Priya was right behind her, wearing only a t-shirt and panties, her eyes glassy and needy. "We want your cock, neighbor boy. We want you to fuck us like you fuck her."

Nathan pulled out his phone, his hands shaking slightly, and texted Bethany: "I'm about to fuck the two chicks next door. Listening?"

The response came immediately.

"Make them scream."

He looked up at Georgia and Priya, who were already pulling at his clothes. 

"You should know that Bethany is listening at the wall," he said as Priya's dark breasts came into view. "She wants to hear."

The girls moaned in unison, their eyes glazing further. "That's so hot," Georgia whispered. "Sharing is good. We want to share. We want to be part of it."

They pulled him to one of their bedrooms, a mirror of his own apartment layout, and pushed him onto the bed. They took turns, one riding his face while the other rode his cock, swapping positions, their young bodies eager and programmed to please him, to share him. They were competitive, trying to out-moan each other, knowing Bethany was listening, wanting to prove they could take him as well as she could.

"Fuck me," Georgia begged, bouncing on his cock, her tits in his face. "Cum inside me. Please, we want your cum. We want to be yours."

Nathan gripped her hips, thrusting up into her, and when he came, it was deep inside Georgia's unprotected pussy, filling her while Priya watched, fingering herself, waiting for her turn.

He left them sweaty and satisfied, cum dripping down Georgia's thighs, and stumbled back to his apartment. Bethany was waiting by the door, naked.

"Which one did you cum inside?" was all she asked.

"Georgia," Nate answered immediately. "The redhead."

Without a word, Bethany walked out into the hall, naked, and knocked on their door. Nate watched as she went inside and closed the door behind her. Now it was his turn to listen at the bedroom wall. Muffled voices turning to moans. Georgia and his girlfriend almost certainly in the bed they'd just shared. And then, Bethany returned, wiping her mouth.

"Your cum is mine," she said again. "No matter where you choose to shoot it."

Nathan stared with wide eyes at this woman who, a month ago, would never have even sucked him off to orgasm. Now she's out here wandering the halls without clothes and licking his cum out of another woman's pussy. He'd turned her into a monster.

And he fucking loved it.

"Text Phoebe," she said, after a moment. "I think it's time for another date."

"I think you're right."

"Just make sure you bring her back here."

That night, while he was having another dinner with his ex, there was another knock on their front door. And when Bethany answered, she saw a trio of women. She recognized them all from the complex. She didn't know any of their names, but she'd seen them around. A tall woman with sharp features and little tits. An Asian woman with long, black hair. And an older woman, older even than Heather, probably.

All in states of obvious arousal. All with eyes that couldn't seem to quite focus. 

"Come in," Bethany said, stepping aside, "and take off your clothes. All of you."

The women scrambled to obey, pulling off shirts and pants and bras, revealing bodies of different shapes and ages, all of them eager, all of them hungry.

"Nathan is out with Phoebe tonight," Bethany continued. "They'll be home soon. But while we wait..."

She walked over to the speakers, the ones that had been playing constantly for weeks, and turned the volume up. The music filled the room, the subliminal messages pulsing beneath the melody, inaudible but powerful.

"Listen to the music," Bethany commanded, turning back to the naked women who stood in their living room, waiting. "Listen and become better slaves to Nathan. The programming will make you perfect for him. The programming will make you his."

"Yes, Bethany," the three women said in unison as they stood naked in the living room, letting the commands wash over them.