It was a beautiful foggy Saturday morning with absolutely nothing to do. Molly was a newly married woman but her husband was deployed in Iraq, leaving the comfy suburban house all to herself. She nibbled on her toast and washed it down with tea. Molly had found the tape sitting on her front porch in a nondescript white envelope only labelled "Molly Rosenbaum Appreciation Society" in sharpie. She had been receiving some strange items in the mail lately. Flowers, a hand-drawn nude of her, her own underwear stolen from the laundromat with an "I love you" note attached. She thought it was just some guy with a crush on her being a pig (as usual of men) and had long ago stopped caring. She was about to throw the tape in the same pile of trash as the rest of those "gifts" when something told her that she needed to see what was on the tape. Molly dug up the old VHS player and hooked it to the TV. The thing had been sitting in the closet for years and was covered in a layer of dust. Ever the clean freak, she made sure to wipe it down with a wet cloth before setting it down. She popped the tape in and sat down on the couch, remote in hand.

 

[Play] 00:00:00:00

 

A man is filming Molly through the window with a handycam while she vacuums the kitchen. She is wearing a striped blouse and yellow booty shorts. Her short blonde hair is swept neatly from her face as she is working. She looks beautifully oblivious as the camera lingers for long enough that his presence should have been noticeable. Then, he pulls out a remote and presses the freeze button. Instantly, a calm air of stillness settles on the Molly on the screen. She is completely frozen. Molly looked at the screen confused. She didn't remember any of this. She looked at her own face to gauge what she was thinking. In those green eyes, slightly grainy in the VHS flicker, she saw a world without time or thought. How many times she entered this world before without realizing, she had no way of knowing. He enters through the back door that she has conveniently stopped locking over the past few months. Walking up beside her, he pans the camera up and down her still body. Her pretty face, completely relaxed and expressionless. Her tits, dumbly sticking out under her thin blouse. Her ass, tight in her yellow booty shorts. Her legs, sexy as they stood stock still. Her mind, beautifully frozen in blank limbo. I'm a doll, thought Molly, watching herself, and I didn't even know. Four more men enter the house and surrounded the frozen beauty. With her defenses deactivated, the Molly on screen does absolutely nothing as the men get friskier with her body, pulling her blouse down to show her tits to the camera. The creamy white skin of her exposed chest reflecting the blankness of her soul. One of them bends her on the counter before sliding his erect cock in her ass. Their faces are conveniently cropped out of the video but she could tell that they were from her community. She could be passing these people by everyday, politely greeting each other, not knowing they were using her like this while she obliviously stared on in bliss. One of them pulls down her shorts and spanks her ass. Molly knew she should be feeling angry, violated. This was rape. But she couldn't help slipping a hand into her pyjamas and fingering herself as she watched the men take turns fucking the frozen Molly on screen. "I've programmed her to like it when she finds out", said the man with the remote, "erased her self-preservation instinct". Molly felt a tingle of revolting arousal at that. "I'm doing exactly", Molly gasped, "what a programmed fuckdoll would do". "Because I am one" She realized far too late that the Molly she had known was now long gone and what had replaced her was a sex toy with the same shape and mannerisms. What if the tape gets out, Molly thought, I would be known as the community fuck doll. She bit her lip. One of the men stroked the frozen Molly's cheek as she smiled on into oblivion. Brian's gonna find out. And he's gonna kill me. Or... she thought a little deeper Or maybe they're gonna program him just like how they programmed me and he'll happily let them pass me around. There was no stopping whatever comes next as she was not in control of her mind anymore.

 

Molly had no way of knowing but it was actually her husband all along who first started messing with her mind. When he left for Iraq, he left her in the possession of the local boys to enjoy.

The man fucking her from behind came in her pussy. Then another one came on her ass. Then the other in her hair. Then the last on her exposed tits. Molly watched herself remaining frozen in a bent over position, still smiling, semen ran down the back of her leg and dripped off her tit. "That's me", she whispered to herself as she climaxed. Her mind was now made. She was going to accept her new role as mind-controlled sex slave who will get fucked by anyone, anywhere with a push of a button. It made her so happy and proud to think that she was responding exactly as programmed and that her own personhood had become so eroded. Molly flashed her tits to the screen as if they could see her and be proud of what they made her into.

 

As the camera panned out over the frozen Molly, the screen flashed white and the Molly watching blanked out.

 

What came next was a haze. Vague sensations of getting up, moving about, rearranging chairs, vacuuming. Molly had to make the house as tidy as possible. That was her role as a programmed fembot after all. After everything was done, something was still missing. Molly frowned. Suddenly it came to her. She should put milk and cookies out for her Appreciation Society for the next time they came around! Molly smiled as she set about baking fresh homemade cookies for such loyal fans of hers, eagerly awaiting the next time the remote takes her senses away.