"I don't know what's wrong with me."

The words hung in the air between them, naked and trembling like Bethany herself, kneeling there in the entryway with Nathan's cum still drying on her chin and her tears wetting his neck. She felt like a woman who had been taken apart and reassembled with desires that didn't fit inside her skin properly. She had just begged her boyfriend to fuck his ex-girlfriend, had masturbated for hours imagining him inside another woman, and had cried with disappointment when he came home faithful.

What the fuck was happening to her?

Nathan held her, stroking her back, and she clung to him like a drowning woman. But even as she sobbed, even as she felt the relief of his arms around her, something dark and hungry stirred between her legs. She wanted him again. She always wanted him now. It was exhausting and exhilarating and terrifying.

Later that night, she'd woken up on the couch. Disheveled and satisfied, but still craving him and wondering if she could wake him. But before she could summon the strength to get up, she saw him come out of the bedroom, twirling something between his fingers. He glanced over at her, but the shadows on her face stopped him from noticing her eyes weren't entirely closed. Then he lifted up the stereo on the end table, and fiddled with something underneath. She saw two quick flashes of green, then he went back to bed.

She waited some time, until she could hear him snoring, then she went over and examined the thing herself. And she was shocked to find a tiny card hidden in the bottom. Opening her own laptop and minimizing the article she was writing, she slid the card into her computer and watched a simple text file appear on screen.

She clicked it open and read the lines Nathan had written, each one a violation and a wonderfully arousing revelation.

"I love a clean space. Tidying makes me feel calm and happy."

"I prefer to be comfortable at home. Wearing less clothing helps me relax."

"I want sex. My libido is high. I crave physical intimacy."

"I love the taste of cum. I want Nathan to cum in my mouth."

"Sharing is natural. Sharing is good. When other women appreciate Nathan, it makes me feel proud."

Hundreds of lines were there by now, written over a collection of revisions and additions.

Bethany read every line, her pussy throbbing with each word. He had written her like a program, coded her desires, compiled her submission. She should have been furious. She should have woken him up screaming, thrown the speakers out the window, called the police.

Instead, she began to type, sliding her lines into random places in his list, so that when he opened it next, he wouldn't see them.

She started small, testing the waters, her fingers flying over the keys. "Nathan wants Bethany to be happy. He listens to her desires. He accepts her needs without judgment."

Then she went deeper. "Nathan trusts Bethany's judgment. When Bethany suggests something, he feels agreeable. He wants to say yes to her. He wants to make her proud. Bethany knows what's best."

She wrote more, her arousal building with each line. "Nathan feels submissive toward Bethany. Her authority arouses him. Obeying her makes him hard. He wants to do as he's told. He wants to be her good boy."

Bethany saved the file and slipped the SD card back into the hidden port. She climbed into bed, pretending she'd just woken up on the couch when he muttered a hello. A part of her wanted to climb on top of him right there, but she knew that was an artificial part of her now. She understood what he'd done. 

And given the chance to try to undo his commands, she'd left every single one of them in place.

The changes in Nathan were subtle at first. He'd started asking her opinion on everything, deferring to her preferences for dinner, for movies, for what they did in bed. He justified it in his own mind by the logic that if he was getting everything he wanted from changing her, he should at least let her pick the small stuff. When she suggested positions, he obeyed instantly, positioning himself exactly as she commanded. He was just happy to have a girlfriend that was so eager to fuck.

But she wanted more. She wanted everyone to feel this way. She wanted a world that bent to her will. His wish for her to share him had metastasized into her own growing need for power. She needed to make him happy. She needed to share him. And if he was going to drag his feet with that blonde slut, then she'd just have to present him with more opportunities.

Bethany retrieved the SD card again and opened the file while he was at work. This time, she didn't limit the commands to Nathan. She rewrote them to apply to anyone who heard the messages, anyone within range of the speakers.

"Bethany is authority. Bethany knows best. When Bethany speaks, you want to obey. Her voice is compelling. Her desires are your desires. Pleasing Bethany feels good. Submitting to Bethany feels right. You want to say yes to Bethany. You want to make Bethany proud."

She added more, specific commands about sharing, about openness, about sexual availability. She wrote about how good it felt to be commanded by her, how natural it was to submit to her will. She created a web of suggestions that would turn anyone who heard them into her willing servant.

Then she turned up the volume.

The music played louder now, filling the apartment, bleeding through the walls. Bethany made sure of it, selecting playlists that would carry the subliminal messages into every corner of the building. She played it while she worked from home, while she showered, while she fucked Nathan into exhaustion on the living room floor. The speakers hummed with their joined will; merged and harmonized, and pushing his desires further than he would have dared alone.

The effects started within days.

Heather from across the hall knocked on the door on a Tuesday morning. Bethany opened it to find the older woman flushed and disheveled, her eyes unfocused, her nipples hard against her thin shirt.

"I wanted to talk to you about the music," she had said, her voice breathy. "I want to share."

Bethany smiled and invited her in, looked her in the eyes, and spoke one of the sentences that she knew he'd beamed into her skull.

"Sharing is good. Sharing is natural. Sharing is hot."

Heather repeated it was a glassy smile, and within minutes, Heather was on her knees, her mouth wrapped around Nathan's cock while Bethany watched, directing the action with sharp commands.

"Lie down. Let him fuck your tits," Bethany ordered, and Heather obeyed, her eyes widening as she did as she was told. Nate was so lost in a haze of his own lust that he didn't notice the way Bethany dominated the scene at all.

When Nathan came across Heather's face, Bethany felt a surge of possessive dominance. She pushed Nathan aside and descended on Heather's cum-covered features, licking her boyfriend's seed from the other woman's cheeks and chin.

"This is mine," Bethany declared, her voice ringing with authority. "You're just borrowing it."

"Yes, Bethany," Heather breathed, the words automatic, programmed, absolute. Heather was hers now. The stereo had made sure of it.

The girls next door came next. Georgia and Priya, the college co-eds with their young, eager bodies and their desperate eyes. Bethany had seen them staring at Nate when they passed each other in the hall the other day. She knew they wouldn't wait long to pounce. And so after he titfucked the milf and confessed that the two girl next door had come onto him, too, she wasn't surprised.

"You should do it," she'd told him. "But text me first."

She wanted to hear it. She wanted to hear her Nate fucking those little sluts. She wanted to know that she was sharing him right. She wanted to know she was obeying her programming, just like Nate, and just like them.

And she didn't have to wait long. The text came less than 12 hours later.

Bethany ran to the bedroom. She texted him to make them scream then sat on the floor with her back against the wall and her fingers in her sopping cunt.

"Make her know who she belongs to," she moaned as she heard the bed start to knock against the other side of the wall. "Make her your property. Make her your toy."

She's never spoken like this, but as one finger became two became three, pumping in and out of her as she listened to Nate cheat on her three feet away, she knew that she would never be the Bethany that she'd been before ever again.

This Bethany felt far too good to give up.

And when Nathan stumbled back into the room, she simply asked which one of the girls he'd finished inside so that she could go and claim his cum for herself again.

Priya opened the door, tits out and eyes dreamy. And when Bethany asked for Georgia, Priya just pointed toward the bedroom. 

"Legs open, whore," Bethany said and Georgia instantly obeyed. Nathan had left her quite a mess. But Bethany loved cleaning now. The stereo had made sure of it. And so she crawled onto the bed and thrust her face into Georgia's neatly trimmed ginger cunt, lapping away at her, driving her more and more into euphoria. Georgia moaned and whimpered and Bethany knew Nate could hear. She heard Priya moaning from behind her and turned to look.

The darker-skinned woman was standing there groping at her chest and staring at Bethany's exposed pussy lips. Bethany simply pointed and said, "Don't just stand there."

"Yes, Bethany!" Priya chirped and buried her own face in Bethany's slit.

Georgia and Bethany both orgasmed with a shared sound that they knew was for Nathan. They were good at sharing now.

"Your cum in mine," Bethany said when she came back into the apartment. "No matter where you choose to shoot it."

And before he could react further she kissed him, the last of Georgia still on her lips. She knew his mind must be swimming in lust and love and desperate devotion. And so instead of making him stew, she decided it was time to push things further.

"Text Phoebe."

He smiled widely.

"I think it's time for another date."

After he left that night, Bethany prepared carefully. She dressed in black lingerie that made her feel like a queen.

The three women arrived first, her newest acquisitions, already under her control. Bethany had them strip the moment they entered, watching with satisfaction as they revealed their bodies without hesitation, their minds empty of everything but obedience.

She let the music wash over them as she inspected her gifts to her lover. And when Nathan texted that he and Phoebe were on there way, she ushered them into the bedroom. Hidden away as all presents should be until its time to open them.

Bethany waited in the living room, throwing on a t-shirt and shorts so as not to scare the poor girl walking into a trap, the stereo playing softly, her programming already saturating the space. When she heard footsteps in the hallway, her pussy clenched with anticipation.

"Welcome!" Bethany said, rising from the couch with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'm so glad you could come."

Phoebe smiled back. "Thanks for having me. Nate said we should all spend some time together so that there wouldn't be any... weirdness?"

"Oh, very much," Bethany purred, stepping closer. She could see the moment Phoebe caught the scent of the room. No matter how many air fresheners were running, it was impossible to mask the sex that hung in the air. Everything Nate had done to Heather and Bethany. Everything Bethany had done to those three women huddled in the room just behind them. The pheromones in the room must have been quite strong, as the blonde's eyes dilated slightly, her breath hitching.

"Why don't you sit down?" Bethany suggested, her voice dropping to a compelling register. "Let's talk."

Phoebe sat on the couch, her posture stiff, her eyes darting around the room. Nathan stood awkwardly by the door until Bethany turned to him.

"Nathan, why don't you go to the bedroom and wait for us," she commanded.

He blinked, confused. "But... I thought we were all..."

"Go to the bedroom," Bethany repeated, her voice sharp with authority. "It's girl time."

"Yes, Bethany," he said immediately, turning and walking down the hall without another word.

Phoebe watched this exchange with wide eyes. "Oh wow," she said. "He never listened to me like that."

"He's well trained," Bethany said with a wicked smile. "He just wants me to be happy."

"I'm glad he found that. I know things were probably rough after we split."

"They were, from what he's told me."

Phoebe frowned slightly.

"But don't worry. He's rebounded nicely. He's doing very well for himself."

"So he's said," she replied, smile returned somewhat. "And what about you? He said you write music?"

Bethany laughed. "I'm not so talented as that. I write about music. I'm a reviewer for a magazine."

"Is this one of the bands you're reviewing?" Phoebe asked, gesturing to the empty room filled with that soft music.

"It is," Bethany answered. Then she leaned closer, her hand pressing on Phoebe's hand. "I've had it on all day. What do you think?"

The blonde blushed but didn't pull away or back up.

"It's pretty," she said, closing her eyes from a moment and letting the music in. And letting all those wonderful commands in with it.

"It gets inside you," Bethany whispered, her hand finding Phoebe's knee now, stroking gently. "It tells you things. Important things. There are always messages to be found if you know how to listen."

A low knocking sound started to come from the bedroom. Nate enjoying one of his gift, no doubt.

"What's that?" Phoebe asked, eyes already slightly unfocused.

"Just the bass from the song. Listen to that rhythm."

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Yeah," she said, voice uncertain but calm.

Then a moan sounded from behind the door.

"And that surround sound," Bethany said quickly as Phoebe's head turned to look at where the sound had come from. "It's is amazing."

"I'm not...," Phoebe mumbled. "I don't think that's the song."

Beth gripped Phoebe's chin lightly with her finger and thumb, guiding the woman's eyes back to her own.

"Which one of us is the music expert?"

"You," she breathed, almost silently.

"Which one of us has been listening to this song all day?"

"You."

"So if I tell you that the knocking and the moaning are a part of this song, what should you think?"

"Bethany knows best," she sighed, finally letting the messages in the music take root in her mind.

"Yes I do."

Phoebe tried to stand, but Bethany's hand on her knee tightened, holding her in place. The blonde's eyes were glassy now, her resistance crumbling under the combined assault of the subliminal messages and Bethany's commanding presence.

"I don't know what's happening," Phoebe whispered, her voice trembling.

"Bethany knows best," Bethany said firmly, watching the words take root in Phoebe's mind. "Say it again."

"I... Bethany knows best," Phoebe repeated, her lips moving automatically.

"Good girl," Bethany praised, her hand sliding higher up Phoebe's thigh. "You're going to sit here and listen to the music with me. You're going to learn so many new things. And you're not going to move as I touch you."

"Yes, Bethany."

Over the next hour, Bethany worked on Phoebe with patient, methodical precision. She kept the music playing, kept her voice low and compelling, kept her hands moving over Phoebe's body in ways that made the blonde gasp and shiver. She talked about sharing, about obedience, about the joy of serving Nathan by her.

Phoebe's resistance melted like snow. She stopped trying to leave, stopped asking questions, stopped doing anything but listening and responding "Yes, Bethany" or "I understand, Bethany." Her eyes grew heavy-lidded, her body relaxed against Bethany's side, her head eventually finding Bethany's shoulder like a child seeking comfort.

"You're so pretty," Bethany murmured, tracing Phoebe's lips with her finger. "I bet Nathan misses fucking you."

"Yes, Bethany," Phoebe whispered, her voice distant, programmed.

"Oh, did he admit as much?"

"Yes, Bethany."

"Do you want to fuck him again?" Bethany asked, her fingers dipping lower, finding Phoebe's wetness through her dress.

"Yes, Bethany," Phoebe moaned, her hips bucking involuntarily.

"But you know why he can't really be yours?" Bethany pressed, her fingers circling Phoebe's clit through the fabric.

"You," Phoebe gasped. "He belongs to you."

"That's right," Bethany purred. "Lucky for you, I've come to really enjoy sharing recently. Now you're going to go into that bedroom and fuck Nathan senseless. He should be extremely ready for you by now. You're going to ride his cock until he can't think straight. You're going to make him cum inside you while I watch. Because Bethany knows best, and Bethany wants to see her good boy get everything he wants."

Phoebe's eyes were completely glazed now, her body trembling with arousal and submission. She turned to look at Bethany with absolute devotion, her mind emptied of everything but obedience.

"Yes, Bethany," she whispered, the words final, absolute, irrevocable. "I do as you wish."

Bethany smiled and stood, taking Phoebe's hand and leading her toward the bedroom. 

The door swung open and Nate was there with the three surprises. One was riding his cock. One was riding his face. One of grinding her desperate pussy against his leg while she fondled the one getting fucked.

"Nathan," Bethany said sharply and all four people snapped to look at her. "The appetizer course is over now. It's time for your meal."

She stripped Phoebe of her dress as the others climbed off him. 

"You three," she pointed to the women. "But you clothes on and go back to your lives. I'm sure we'll be coming to visit you each soon."

"Yes, Bethany," they said in unison. Something seemed to register inside Nate as he watched everyone obeying his girlfriend. She met his eyes and smiled in a way that confirmed his sudden suspicion.

"Beth-," he started to say, but she didn't want to have a discussion about SD cards and stereos and who last edited their minds. She wanted porn. Living, breathing, porn.

"Fuck her," Bethany commanded, settling into the armchair to watch and revealing her covered up lingerie. "Fuck her like you used to. Phoebe, don't disappoint him. He's been quite excited about this."

"Yes, Bethany," they said in unison, their voices harmonious and their bodies eager to obey.

Bethany watched as Phoebe climbed onto the bed, as Nathan positioned himself between her legs, as they began to move together in the rhythm the apparently had never forgotten. Everyone began to moan, even as the pleasure built toward inevitable climax.

Bethany touched herself while she watched, her fingers working her clit in slow, deliberate circles. This was power. This was control. This was the future she had written for herself, line by line, command by command, until the world bent to her will and called her name in worshipful tones.

"Take her," she whispered to herself. "Breed her. Claim her. Bethany knows what's best."

And as Phoebe began to scream her orgasm to the ceiling, as Nathan groaned and emptied himself into his ex-girlfriend's willing body, Bethany came with a shuddering cry of her own. Next door, Georgia and Priya were eating each other out listening to Nathan get what he deserved. Heather was bouncing on her husband across the hall, trying desperately not to call out Nate's name instead of his. And all through the apartment complex, people were masturbating and muttering Bethany or Nathan's names, despite never being introduced to them.

Nate exploded inside his ex. 

Phoebe collapsed onto his chest, feeling his still-hard cock throbbing inside her. His arms wrapped around her in practiced fashion, a glimpse through time back to when this was their life. And they could almost pretend that they'd somehow gone back four years. But there was still someone else in the room.

"Are you happy, Nathan?" Bethany asked.

"Yes, Bethany," he answered with perfect devotion. "Thank you."

"I think I'll let her keep your cum this time. After all, sharing is important, isn't it."

"Yes, Bethany," the pair sighed, Nathan still holding her tight.

Bethany slipped out of the room, leaving the two to enjoy their reconnection. For the first time in twelve hours, the music in the apartment clicked off. She opened her laptop and slid the SD card inside. And she deleted all the lines of programming that the two had written since this unholy device had arrived.

Then, staring at the blank text file, she wrote:

"This is a good life. Nothing should change. I don't want to change anything any further."

The card slid into the bottom, the led blinked twice, and Bethany went to sleep on the couch to the sound of pacifying white noise and more fucking coming from her bedroom.